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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Woof woof yall.

No content warnings

You’re out in the woods one day, taking photos and going for a little hike. Stupid mental health walk or something; whatever, it’s a nice day and you’ve gotten some good shots. You’re just about to turn back when a huge brown and black wolf lopes out from a nearby thicket.

There aren’t any wolves in England though! Hunted to extinction - it’s why you feel safe bebopping around the forest alone in the daylight. So you see this big fuck-off sized “dog” and coo at the pretty puppy.

“Hello handsome boy, aren’t you just gorgeous! Will you come say hi?”

You do all the right things that you’re supposed to do with an unfamiliar dog but he just barges right through. Trots up to you, nose shoved into your crotch. You startle, bark a laugh, shove at his big stupid head.

“A little forward,” you tease, scratching under his chin, “but it’s better than biting.”

You feel all around his neck for a collar, but no luck. He must be someone’s though, huge blue eyes too intelligent and focused on your words. And his coat is so well maintained, glossy and shedded.

“Do you know how to… sit?”

An adorable head tilt, and the big dog settles onto his hind quarters.

“What a good boy!” you croon. “So smart!”

He licks at your palm and wrist as you scratch at him, huge tail thumping. A canine grin, tongue lolling out as he waits for your next command.

You hum.

“Well, guess we can check if you’re microchipped, huh? Or at least I can get you some water. See if someone recognizes you…”

You make a kissy noise at him. “Let’s go, big boy. Come.”

And to your delight, he falls into step with you. He weaves along the path ahead and behind, but always loops back to you, brushing against your thigh as if to reassure you he’s still there.

You hum as you walk, giggling when you see his ears twitch and swivel towards you. Tease that he should do better if he doesn’t like your version of Jolene.

You only cross paths with two other people on the walk, a pair of guys clearly out for a more serious hike. The dog plants himself between you and them, ears pinning back and a low growl erupting from his chest. You startle a bit, carefully burying your fingers around his scruff in case you need to grab him quickly.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t belong to either of you, then?” you ask.

One of the guys shakes his head. The other gives you an odd look. “He’s not yours?”

The dog barks, loud and rough. You shush him, explain the situation to the hikers. But the dog never stops rumbling and they quickly go on their way, keeping a wide berth.

You huff. “Don’t like men, huh?”

Poor thing. Maybe he was abandoned by a mean owner?

“S’alright, bud, I’ll be good to you.”

He follows you all the way back to your home. And when you open the door, shoulders right past you.

“Ah, shit,” you groan. “You weren’t supposed to come in!”

He gives you an almost betrayed look. You try not to huff in amusement.

“So help me, if you bring nasty things in this house I will shave you. Shave you. You’ll look so silly. Like an overgrown raw turkey.”

The dog turns, trots back to you. You didn’t realize just how big he is until he’s got his big paws on your shoulders. You blink, have to take a step back to brace against the weight of him. In his hind legs he’s taller than you. Really could pass for a pure bred wolf.

A big, rough tongue licks from your jaw to your forehead. You scrunch up your face but end up laying a kiss on his muzzle in return.

“Alright, you big nasty. Down you get.”

You shut and lock the door behind you, brushing leaves and dirt off.

“Okay, shower first,” you say aloud, already tugging off your clothes. “Then we’ll run into town, see if we can track down your family.”

You don’t mind the dog staring, unblinking, as you strip down right there, balling things up to avoid tracking a mess through the house. Nor do you mind him following you to the bathroom, though you do push at his snout when he licks the back of your knee. Just normal dog things, really. They don’t get people stuff like clothes or boundaries.

“Stay out of trouble, bud. I’ll be right out.”

As you wash up, you consider the merits of adopting. Only if you can’t find the dog’s actual family, that is. It’s lonely in your little house sometimes - and a bit spooky at night. A big, protective dog might be just the thing.

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic

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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months

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I was wondering if we could get mafia max or Lance

A/N: Mafia Max with his twin boys, in the mood to write cute Mafia Dad Max.

"Boys, you better be dressed by the time I get in there," Max tucks in his white dress shirt, his legs draped in black dress pants that has you looking at him very sinfully. "Max, they're 6." You whisper, lying in bed as your husband stops and stares at you.

"You know, I love our boys, but sometimes I hate that they make me leave, you," He leans over the bed ghosting your lips, "In bed," He closes the gap, and you can't help but moan feeling the way his hands grab at your hips.

"Daddyyyyy!" Max groans and pulls away and you giggle, patting his chest. "You did promise to take them with you today," Max nods his head and turns, "I'm coming Casper, just give Daddy a minute." Max yells and turns, giving you one more deep kiss. "Daddyyyyy, Casper is making a mess."

You pull back laughing and Max huffs as he spares you one last look. "Better go, Fabian will make a bigger mess." Max nods and walks out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the boys room. "Casper, stop. Fabian, help your brother clean." Max is stern, but kind as he gives his boys a kiss each on top of their heads. Max watches as they start to clean up all their toys but stands knees clicking as he starts to help them.

"Daddy, do we get to see Uncle Danny today?" Fabian asks, eyes, his eyes staring right back at him wide and pleading. "Yes, I'm taking you two into work today." Casper squeals and Max's knees give at his weight tugging it down. "Yes, yes I know. Now, go give your mother a kiss goodbye while I pack your lunches." Casper and Fabian run off and your laughs blend together.

Making his way downstairs he shoos off his maid and grabs everything he needs to make the twins lunch. Backing two turkey sandwiches with the respected cheese they both liked and right amount of mustard and other things. He grabs their favorite cookies, one Oreos the other Chips Ahoy.

Casper runs down and holds his hands up smiling. "What do we say, Casper?" Max asks, knowing he was going to do it anyway, but Casper still needed to have his manners. "Hug, please Daddy?" Max nods and bends down lifting Casper with ease and continues making their lunch. Finishing it off slices of apple for Fabian and grapes for Casper.

"Daddy? Are you doing bad things today?" Casper asks, his blonde hair tickling Max's chin. "No, not today buddy. Just meetings." Max never hide what he did from his family, but he only told the boys he did bad things, never going into details, only telling them he did bad things. "That's good, I don't like the bad things." Casper was always Max's sweetheart. The soft one, the one who cries when stepping on an ant.

Fabian was the one who had no problem doing the hard things in life, hell he even kicked his grandfather Jos once, when he almost got violent with you when Max was away. Two side of the same coin, Max liked to call them. "I know you don't baby, but it keeps you, Fabby, and Mommy safe." Max kisses his cheek and Casper giggles.

"Fabby! It's time to leave," Fabian little yell of bye echos through the house as he comes running, Max scooping him up in his arms. "Now, let's get going my little soldiers."

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

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Happy trails, John.

A/N: I've been meaning to write the captain my captain but he's my holy grail—look but not touch even though I'd beg him to let me make him lonches at 4 am. Also, I watch Die Hard every Christmas because it IS a Christmas movie, argue with your demons. In response to @glitterypirateduck's prompt thing which inspired to me to write something cute and civilized.

“Just once, I’d like a regular, normal Christmas. Eggnog, a fucking Christmas tree, a little turkey. But no. It’s always ‘Die Hard’.”

“John, love. You’re being overdramatic. It’s just the holidays with my parents.”

You rolled your eyes as you stuffed your clothes into the luggage bag, preparing for the trip.

“I know, love, but I wanted to spend a quiet Christmas with my wife— but no, the in-laws have to call with their ‘Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs…’ ", he said with a mocking lilt in his voice.

You snicker and say, “I promise we’ll leave as soon as it’s polite.”

“Sure, sure, I go out and keep the world safe just so when I can get a little reprieve, it’s to not spend it alone with my wife. I’m feeling a little fuckin’ underappreciated.”

You closed the zipper on your bag and went over to the bathroom where John was grumbling his displeasure. Looping your arms around his waist, cheek to his shoulder blade you say, “It’s just Christmas, hun. We’ll have New Year's all to ourselves and we can even have the boys over to celebrate. I’ll even tell you what I got you for Christmas.”

That seems to distract him a bit, as he turns his head a tad with a curious tilt.

“I bought you a Lagavulin 16-year aged single malt scotch.”

His eyes warm with appreciation and he lets out a resigned sigh.

“Right, then. Let’s get this over with.”

Stepping out of the bathroom, you turn to look at the time.

“Jesus Christ, John! We’re gonna need a miracle to get to the airport on time!”

You’re hastily grabbing your bags, yanking them off the bed and you see John on the phone.

“John! Get your bag—”

Suddenly, there are tires screeching outside on the driveway. John walks past you with his bag and picks up yours as well, before jerking his head at you towards the front door.

“You wanted a miracle. I give you— The TaskForce 141”, John says, tossing the bags in the trunk of a truck that has Ghost, Johnny, and Gaz in it.

You don’t even care to question why they’re here— you just hop in the back seat immediately and buckle up.

John’s foot is barely inside the truck when it’s speeding off, tires screeching on the pavement. The entire drive has you almost nauseous with the jerky turns and harsh brakes. At a particularly abrasive step of the gas that has your neck jerking back towards the headrest of the seat, you turn towards John with a white-knuckle grip on the driver and passenger seat— you ask “Who’s driving this car? Stevie Wonder?!”

Johnny, sweet Johnny turns with a confused furrow on his brow and says, “Whad’ya mean, lass? It’s just L.T.”

You’re at the airport in no time with the no-question illegal speed Ghost drove at, and you’re stumbling out of the vehicle with shaky legs. At least you made it.

Gaz grabs the bags from the trunk and places them on the floor but you’ve already run off to check in before it’s too late. John thanks Ghost for the help and after Johnny is rolling his window down— “I heard you’re going to America. To California, specifically.”

John grunts in annoyance at remembering the trip, and he sees Johnny grin cheekily at him before he says, “Yippy-ki-yay, motherfucker!”

#CODHOLIDAY2023 #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price fanfic #price x reader #price x you #john price x you #cod mwii #cod mw2

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attapullman · 6 months

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Someone Will Hear | Robert "Bob" Floyd 18+

Summary: When everyone else retires to bed after Friendsgiving, Bob has other plans for you.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x f!reader, 18+ ONLY as always, smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m and f receiving), creampie, praise kink, cum play if you squint, sex in a house full of people, mostly porn without plot. It’s cozy season. It’s Friendsgiving season. It’s Bob Floyd Fucks season. Season greetings to all who celebrate.

“Guess we’re the sole survivors.” Bob’s breath is hot on your neck. Those warm, strong hands skim down your sides. If you turn your head slightly you can catch the remaining scent of mulled wine on his breath.

To be fair, everyone had agreed to a second movie. An afternoon crowded around mismatched card tables stuffing your faces with overcooked turkey (Javy) and undercooked sweet potatoes (Mickey) quickly turned Friendsgiving into movie night while your stomachs settled. And everyone had still felt rowdy and wine drunk enough to start the sequel. Or so it seemed. Not even ten minutes in Bradley was shuffling himself to Natasha’s guest room with a soft yawn. You hadn’t even noticed the rest of the squad excusing themselves, your head cushioned between overstuffed cushions and Bob’s welcoming chest. Your head swivels around to confirm that you two are the only ones left in his front seater’s living room.

But one press of Bob’s lips on your neck has every thought leaving your brain. He’s been impatient for the past hour. Your thigh pressed between his legs, your nails scratching down his back, the tiny kiss pressed to his wrist when he removed a pesky hair from your brow. It’s taken every ounce of will to not fuck you right on the loveseat where everyone could see. Docile, sweet, cozy you is his favourite to defile.

Hands slip under your sweater. One admiring the smooth texture of your skin, while the other quickly finds purchase over your bra, fingering the delicate material. Instinctually you keen into his hand, desperate to feel those skilled fingers tease. A not-so-subtle nudge against your thigh reminds you of the thick appendage he indulges you in daily. Twice if you ask nicely. There is truly no greater pleasure than sex with Robert Floyd.

It’s too much. Your body surges forward, fingers curling in softly gelled hair as hot mouths collide. Tongues twist and curl, desperate to devour. How does he taste so good? He barely drinks and yet you’re drunk off his kiss. Your needy fingers bring him closer - feeding your addiction to his touch - before sense returns and you tug his head back.

“We can’t do this.” The kisses he presses to your jaw say otherwise. “This is Natasha’s couch. Her house. Everyone’s here. Someone will hear.”

He isn’t the least bit concerned. Intertwining your fingers and brushing them against the unmistakable bulge that has made you walk funny on more than one occasion. “Don’t worry, everyone’s asleep.” A light kiss to your jaw. “Look at what you’ve caused.” Another addictively delicate kiss to your neck. “You have to fix it.”

Your brain holds fast to the belief this is a bad idea, but the tidal wave of arousal that floods through you wins out. Your fingers stroke along his covered length, straining against his zipper. Everyone is fast asleep, you can be quiet. Bob watches the fight leave your eyes, the swell of your chest under his hand as your nipples tighten. He knows he has you right where he wants you.

His hand leaves your waist and strokes your jaw. An adept finger runs along your bottom lip. “Say it, baby. Tell me you want me to fuck you on the couch while all our friends are asleep.”

The depraved moan that leaves your mouth is too loud in the quiet house. His heavy hand clamps over your lips. “Say it quietly like a good girl.”

Your whimper out, “Please fuck me on the couch while all our friends are asleep.”

The grunt he lets out is low but carnal. Arousal stilling the air as you anticipate how he’ll play with your body. That strong, lean-muscled torso leaving yours as he settles between your thighs, opening them up like a present before guiding your pants down each leg; soft, spongy kisses replacing the denim. Once discarded, there’s a slight burn in the muscles as your thighs swing as wide as possible to accommodate his broad shoulders. He already has his mouth latched over your panties, the soaked lace his appetizer before the main course.

“Mmm, always taste so good, baby.” The words are muffled he’s so deep in your core. You can feel his finger slip through your soaked folds, pulling the lace back from where he eagerly devoured. Instantly replaced by a deliciously warm, wet tongue that wastes no time in re-acquainting itself with your pussy. It’s his second time enjoying you today, but every time is just as devoted as the first.

Words catch in your throat as he licks along your inner walls like a starving man. His nose presses against your clit harder and rougher as he searches for the spot that makes you see stars. He’s only reached it once with that short tongue, so quickly relinquishes the search to his long fingers. His right hand offering you one finger for pleasure, but filling you with two once it’s confirmed you’re stretched enough. Eyes roll back in your head when his left hand trails along your sternum before slipping three thick fingers in your mouth, effectively muffling the obscene moans you’re emitting. He pulls back for a breath. “That’s it sweetheart, show me what a good girl you are.”

His pupils are blown, sapphire turned obsidian. Eyelids drooping, a red tint to his cheeks…Bob looks every inch of fucked out pussy drunk as he breaks eye contact to worship your clit. Mouth swiping over the bud, suckling it as his fingers thrust harder. The white hot edges of an orgasm fuzz your brain, excitedly awaiting when he hits that spongey spot. You pant around his fingers in anticipation. So drooly for him, his little pet.

But one spit-slicked thumb press to your clit changes plans. Your body suddenly cannot comprehend the ecstasy he’s showering you in and the edge of the cliff is suddenly there. And then you’re careening off it, brain spiraling in orgasmic nothingness, one hand wrapped in his hair while your mouth drools around his fingers. Bob’s tongue unrelenting, dedicated to licking you through your pleasure as his thumb guides each spasm. Hips rubbing against the couch as he chases his own relief. Not stopping until you’re whispering “S’senstive” around his digits and squirming for relief.

Your eyes are heavy as your highly trained aviator raises himself to his knees, taking in the vision of your half naked body. The house is still quiet, and you bask in your glow under his watchful eye. Not the end to Friendsgiving you expected, but a nice treat before Bob drives you home. You reach down to fix your panties when strong fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Let’s take those off for this next part.”

Bob is not an ostentatious guy. Never draws attention to himself or makes a fuss. But his cock? It strides in heavy and thick and demanding every ounce of your attention. You can’t look away from him. Breaths still heavy as he recovers from feasting on your dripping pussy. Sapphire eyes hold your gaze as he unbuckles his belt and teases the button of his corduroys. The anticipation heavy between you. He knows you would do ungodly things for his cock, based solely on the filthily descriptive letters you’ve sent him while on deployment. The man believes in old-fashioned letter writing and eats pussy like a king. Of course you worship his cock.

Unable to handle the wait, your fingers fly to his crotch. Unhooking the button and pulling down the zipper with zero finesse. Now that he’s promised the gorgeous stretch of fucking you, you want nothing more. As he unbuttons the respectful tartan button up he’d chosen for dinner, slipping the fabric from his shoulders, that all-consuming fuzz clouds your brain again. Growing only stronger as he slips the pants from his hips before removing a monster of a cock from tight cotton. Your mouth waters as he slips one veiny hand around the head and stokes down firmly.

Your mouth opens instinctually.

A large hand wraps around the back of your neck, guiding you hungrily to his lap. His thumb rubs along your pulse as he traces your lips with the tip. Bob loves how your lips are always a shade darker than his cock. When you’re ready, you tilt your head and swallow him down.

“So good baby, feels so good.” You can tell he’s already on the edge of wanting to swear. “Your mouth was made for me.” Bob’s too far gone to indulge in your velvet mouth, wanting nothing more than to feel your tight walls squeeze him. Currently unsure whether you both can stay quiet, but he’s willing to die trying.

He slips a few more inches past your lips and enjoys the way you swallow along his cock, breathing through your nose as your hands wrap around his creamy thighs. Shudders rise up his spine as delicate fingers trace along his cum-filled balls. Too much of that and he’ll paint the back of your throat with salty cream. He’s already so close.

Before you can lose yourself in the rhythm, his hand is pulling you back gently by your neck, helping you out of your sweater. The material hugs you and he’s been thinking about your tits all night. Bob regularly has dreams about suffocating between them, enjoying his last breaths with one nipple in each hand. He can’t properly appreciate them in Natasha’s living room with a ticking clock, but this will satisfy for now. Gentle hands guide you onto your back, on display for him upon the cushions. His lips descend down your chest - hot, wet kisses to your flesh, nose tracing the cups of your bra. A rumbled grunt warming the valley between when you stroke his spit-covered cock and bring it to your dripping cunt.

“Bobby…please…” Your voice is low, still afraid of waking one of the house’s occupants. But as his tip catches on your entrance need overtakes sense, a moan slips past your swollen lips. “Need you now.”

A swift flick of his hips and he’s inside you, giving you a moment to adjust. Years later you’re still experiencing the continued stretch, one his colleagues would raise eyebrows if they knew what heat he was packing. His fingers soothe over your upper arm, lips still praising your chest. Loving ocean-blue eyes trained on you, anticipating your needs.

Hands slip over his shoulders, soothing over the broad muscle to distract yourself. Nails biting into the flesh as he accidentally twitches before you’re ready. You’re faintly aware that the movie ends, the soft glow of the credits bathing you two in low light as you determine if you’re ready for Bob’s engorged cock. He presses a kiss to your jaw before whispering in your ear. “I love you. You’re such a good girl for me. I love you so much.”

His words have worked and your hips slip forward, begging him to fill you up. Feeling impossibly full as he gently thrusts between your folds. Peppering your chest in affection-filled kisses. Your mouth clamped shut to keep pathetically desperate moans from filling the quiet house. He sinks deeper and deeper, words of affirmation falling from his tongue, until the neatly trimmed hair around his cock is drenched in your essence.

He shifts down to his forearms, surrounding you in his scent, his touch, his aura. Chests touching, nowhere else to look but those cerulean pools of blue that had you falling on day one. From this angle your leg can hitch around his waist, opening up your pelvis to hit a spot that has you seeing stars. His balls slapping against your cunt as he continues his deep, forceful thrusts. Your mouths slot together in a desperate bid to stay quiet, both of you working quickly toward the edge with the fear of anyone in the house discovering you.

Your fingers trail from his shoulders to hair, pushing a wayward strand from his forehead. You pull away from his lips to whisper in his ear how good he feels, how he’s made for you. He looks debauched, his tongue slipped between thin lips as he concentrates on thrusting his way to the spongey spot of your cervix. This is the kind of pinpoint accuracy he doesn’t win accommodation medals for, but he always finds his target with you.

“Keep quiet, baby.”

Hands clamp to your mouth as Bob delivers a hard thrust to your cervix, blanking your brain as white spots fill your vision. His lips quirk as you move your hips, chasing the feeling. Sweat-slicked chests pressed together as he rams himself inside of you again and again, your muffled moans the sound of victory. This is exactly what he wanted when he settled himself behind you on the sofa. Such a perfect girl for him.

You’re so close to the edge, his hot breath on your neck, the stretch of his cock driving you home. If you close your eyes you can feel your orgasm within reach. Bob adjusts his weight, still pressed against you though as he can’t bear any space, and brings his fingers to where you two connect. Your aching clit happily accepting the controlled circles as hips slap together, too loud in the house to be mistaken for anything else. He whispers one last praise against your lips before you crumble before him.

Your walls squeeze around his shaft, forcing Bob to slow his hips and enjoy the tight sheath of your pussy. Back arching into firm chest as one low pornographic moan escapes right into his mouth. Small spasms wracking your body as he continues to drag himself in and out of your warmth. Chasing his own orgasm as you spin back to earth. Your droopy eyes and sleepy smile spurring him on, his happy cockdrunk girl. Slamming hips against yours one last time before bottoming out - garbled grunts of warning filling the space between your mouths - before pushing every creamy drop of his seed deep inside his babygirl. The creamy ring around his cock forgotten as his cum fills every available space.

Panting, unable to open your eyes, you regain your bearings in the dark room. Everything is still silent, the promise that you’ve kept your dalliances private. The warmth of Bob’s skin grounding you to the moment. You love him so much.

After too much time has passed and your skin itches with dry sweat, Bob finally pulls out. A wicked grin upon his lips as he pushes his cum back inside you; partly for his own pleasure but also for the safety of Natasha’s couch. Wrapped in a throw blanket, he whisks you to the bathroom to clean up (sweet kisses and praise included) before redressing and tucking you both in for the night on the cramped couch. His legs are too long and you both want to stretch out, but it works out with your knee between his thighs and your head between a cushion and his chest.

While hours have passed, when you open your eyes it feels like you’ve only just drifted off. The living room is still dark, but the rest of the house is bustling. Reuben and Mickey are making coffee while Jake loudly brags about the perfect shot he pulled on his new espresso machine. The sweet smell of pancakes fills your nostrils. Bradley’s specialty, and you can slightly hear the tail end of whatever he’s humming as he works the stove. You snuggle in closer to Bob, who has also woken up to the chaos of his squadron making breakfast.

The two of you fight off reality for a moment longer before joining in the kitchen. All assembled look disheveled, having slept in their Friendsgiving formals and most spending the night on the guest room floor because Rooster won’t share a bed. Joking accusations fly around as Jake complains of neck pain.

You’re tucking into the offered pancakes when the rest of your group joins the kitchen. Javy looking well-rested because he slept on ten inches of memory foam in the primary bedroom. Natasha, however, doesn’t seem as pleased after a night of comfortable sleep with a partner. And when you see what’s hanging off her finger it makes sense. With a pinched face, she slowly holds up the pair of charcoal grey briefs.

“Floyd, why were these under the couch?"

#robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fic #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fan fiction #robert bob floyd smut #bob floyd smut #top gun maverick smut #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader

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moondrop-writes · 1 year

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Hiiiii! I hope you’re doing well! If possible could I get an Apollo x wife!reader scenario where like he always promised he’d never cheat and stuff cause he only ever had eyes for her but then she finds out about Will and is really upset until she meets him and thinks he’s super cute (in like a motherly way off. Bonus points if she used to be with Ares before he started dating Aphrodite and so that’s why she was so upset cause she felt like it was Ares all over again even if they’re still good friends)

Sorry if this is too specific or confusing or something 😅

i love TOA Apollo, and while i've never been really sure how to write the POV of a god, i think this is pretty fair considering his in-universe persona written by Rick. thank you for the request and no worries about specifics! also, my apologies if this is super long lmao

You wiped your wet hands onto the rag by the kitchen sink as the dishes you had just washed dripped. Normally, you'd dry them as well, but you were running low on time, and you didn't want to miss a crucial part of the night in order to fix little details like that. Smiling to yourself, you folded the rag and hung it up by the sink again.

The oven timer beeped just in time for you to get your apron on, and you grabbed your mits in order to safely pull the tray out of the oven. You placed it on top of the stove, the scent of the warm turkey filling your nose. Usually, you'd preserve such a thing for a holiday, but today might as well be one.

Tonight, was the night Apollo visited you once more, after several months in his human form trailing after some young girl, he seemed to take a liking to. Now he was immortal again and could see you after all that time apart.

You'd seen him within the first month at some point. You couldn't do anything though, because that wasn't him. It could very well be, but it wasn't. Lester was average, but it wasn't Apollo. You didn't want to sound shallow thinking that, but there was nothing connecting the god of the Sun to some fake New York teen.

And it'd been too long since then. He said it was for your safety, but you knew it was just because he couldn't stand for you to see him like this. You could tell by the way he walked that he was just as uncomfortable with his new body as you were. He looked like a baby deer, stumbling on tiny legs as it struggled to learn how to walk.

That was not your Apollo, your Apollo was graceful with a flashing smile that sent gusts of warmth up your arms. But his looks weren't all that appealed to you so many years ago. He might've been vain, but he was lovely too. He cared for mortals as the great Titan Prometheus had, and everywhere he walked seemed to cheer someone up.

He was rather dependent on his looks, but around you all that seemed to shy away. It was just you, mortal flesh and human blood, and him, golden blonde hair and a blinding smile.

In your head, you tended to akin Apollo to a star. Despite being one of the oldest Olympians, he seemed so much younger. His sister, Artemis seemed so much more serious and mature, and Dionysus had also seemed to understand his duty more seriously. Being the god of the Sun was more habit than it was a job to Apollo.

While the gods floated and stayed still in their palaces, Apollo roamed around. Each day when he rose and ran the sun, he saw places he might've otherwise missed. Everything wondered him, whether it be a small cave in Taiwan or a forgotten shore in Australia.

Stars were small, surrounded by dozens of other stars and radiating their heat and charm. You thought that summarized Apollo pretty well.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your thoughts.

Startling, you jumped up, rushing to untie your apron and hang it up in the hallway. In nothing but a pair of over washed jeans and a loose beige t-shirt, you pulled the door open, and finally felt like you could breathe again for the first time in months.

There Apollo stood, bronze skin and gleaming hair, a suspiciously bright red Camaro sitting in your driveway.

"Y/N," he breathed, voice as soft as a deer's mewl.

"Apollo," you answered, and leaped forward. He caught you easily, as he had always done, and pulled you close. Your fingers clasped behind his neck, grasping onto blonde curls.

His own hands found your hips, fingers slipping into the belt loops of your jeans to tug you forward. His nose was buried in your hair, and he pressed repeated kisses to the crown of your head.

He was dressed in his godly attire, bands of gold, an airy white tunic, and gold sandals. He looked like a supermodel next to you, but he held you as if you were true treasure.

You pulled back for a moment, only to pull his head down so his lips could meet yours, pressed together in a locking kiss.

It could've gone on forever, but mortals needed air, and you pulled away to breathe. With your chest heaving, he smiled at you as if you'd hung the stars. One hand lifted to cup your cheek and cradled your face.

"I love you," he said, voice soft and almost weak sounding.

"I love you too," you said, pressing your cheek to his chest. You felt something break in you when you heard the slow beat of his immortal heart. It was like a dam that finally crashed.

Your eyes filled with months' worth of tears and you hiccupped wetly against his skin. "I-I missed you so-so much..." you sniffed, trying to calm down your rapid breathing, "don't ever do that again!"

He gave a small rueful laugh and wiped at your tears. "I'll try," he said, and that was enough.

The two of you went inside, and he familiarized himself with everything again. You ate dinner, with soft talk of what'd you'd been up to the past few months. He was unusually quiet and kept glancing out the window to the sky as if it were going to disappear.

He followed you back to your bedroom and changed into some clothes that had been sitting in your dresser for months, awaiting him. You were in the bathroom attached to your room, combing your hair as he sits on the bed watching you.

You placed down the comb with a small clattering sound and turned to him. Your palms were flat on the countertop.

"What's up with you? You're...quiet," you ask, biting your lip. He blinks and runs a hand through his hair before standing and striding over to you.

He wraps his arms around you and hides his face in your neck. "Sorry, I... I've got a lot on my mind..." It was weird seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. Even before, when he would melt in your hands like putty and show his true self as a soft sweet husband, he was never uncertain. Not around you, at least.

You take his hands in yours and press a kiss to the inside of his palm. "Then confide in me. I'm here, and I don't plan on leaving."

He looks away and you recognize the expression easily.

Shame.

"Apollo," you say, a bit uneasily.

"Yes?"

"Tell me," You urge. He hides his face in the flesh of your neck again and presses a kiss to your nape.

"I made a promise, a while ago, and I broke it," he admitted, and you scoured your mind for a time where he'd done such a thing.

You held his hand, the new ring gleaming on your finger. Under Apollo's sunlight, it shone like a star in the night sky, but not even it could compare to the light of his smile.

He kissed your forehead, and said, "No demigod kids, I promise. Not even yours."

You laughed and swatted at his arms. "Be serious," you huffed, "and thank you."

"Mhm," he hummed, smiling against your temple.

Instinctively, you pushed him back, second-guessing your strength and gasping when he banged into the doorframe. He winced and held a hand to his shoulder blade.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head. "How old? No--how many? How--how could I have been so stupid?"

"Y/N..." he tried, voice breaking halfway through your name. It didn't matter, you were louder.

"No, answer the question!"

He closed his eyes, face twisted with distain as he cowered. The god, Apollo, cowering to the wrath of mere mortal.

He breathed in to steady himself.

"Five."

Your face contorted into one of anguish, then horror, then anger.

You cared not for the pained expression on his face when you pulled off your wedding band and flung it at him. He caught it and held it to his chest. "For fifteen years I thought you were loyal! But no. Did those years mean nothing to you? Could you have not waited another century for me to pass? God!"

You ran a shaking hand through your hair, and felt disgust rise within you.

"Please," he begged, but you were having none of it.

"Out!" you shrieked, "get out!"

He obliged, leaving you to fall to the floor, sobs falling from your lips.

It went like that for a while. A few weeks, you think. He tried, multiple times, but you didn't want to listen. How could you have thought he loved you? All those years of lies.

You didn't want to think about him. So, you didn't. You blocked all thoughts of Apollo out. That was until you were sorting through your mail and found one from a sender you weren't familiar with.

From, Will Solace, sent by Hermes Shipping & CO. to Y/N L/N

Curiosity taking over, you opened the letter, and began to read.

Dear, Y/N!

Hello, I'm sure my father has given you quite the issue, and I must say your anger is justified. I have not come to defend Apollo's actions but assist yours. I'm Will Solace, a half-blood son of your husband, my dad. He's been whining a lot at camp, but It's easy to tell how much he misses you. The whole time he was mortal he wouldn't stop talking about you. He claims that he's tried to talk to you, but you keep shutting him out, so I decided to take things into my own hands. You have all the right to ignore this, but I have a feeling you won't. As you're well aware, my father has had multiple demigod children since his marriage with you, which is wrong no doubt, all of my siblings agree. But I don't think he's talked to my mother once since my birth, and Austin said he hadn't seen him before camp since he was four, so, I think it's safe to assume he hadn't cared much for our mothers. But he did care for you. I know my dad, and I know how he used to be all those years ago, which kind of concerns me for you, but I'll stay quiet about that. If he stayed with you this long, then he plans to stick it out. I truly believe he cares for you, and if so, I'd like to meet you. If possible, please come to XXX cafe at 1:30 next Friday.

With care, Will Solace.

You didn't realize you were crying till teardrops were dripping off your cheeks.

With a racing heart, you walked over to the calendar. The letter had been later than probably intended, which meant next Friday, was actually tomorrow.

So, it came to the question of whether or not you would go.

You missed Apollo so much. He was right there, and you could hold him and have him as much as you wanted, but you pushed him away. You let your anger blind you, however justified it may be, and ran from the man that loved you most.

Then it was decided. You'd go. You'd meet Will, and you'd force Apollo to apologize.

Now that you were there, waiting outside the cafe anxiously, the plan didn't seem so fool proof. You flattened down the fabric of your summer dress and ran your hands along the strap of your purse, eyes searching for anybody that may resemble Apollo.

Will isn't hard to find, and like his father, the world seems to center itself around him when he's near.

His hair is blonde and curly, just like Apollo's, and falls over his ears and hangs just above his eyes. Piercing blue find yours, and sun-kissed skin shifts to show a blinding smile. You'd expected them to look similar, but not near identical.

He runs over, wearing a pair of shorts and a nice t-shirt, hand raised in a wave. He stops a few feet from you and holds out a hand.

"Will Solace, it's so nice to meet you. Apollo talks a lot about you," he says, eyes bright and cheery. You were sure you would've thought he was annoying if he was anybody else but knowing that this was Apollo's kid (your stepson? No, that was a weird thought) made it sort of endearing.

You found yourself smiling back as you took his hand.

"You mentioned," you say, clasping hands, "I'm Y/N."

"Let's go inside, shall we?"

Turns out, Will is very likeable. Every word is filled with genuine joy, and he listens intently. You can see the resemblance in looks, but he must get this side of himself from his mother. His nose twitches when confused, and his ears go pink when he's embarrassed.

You think it's cute, the way he opens himself up so easily to you. He finds hidden motherly qualities in yourself, that you weren't even sure you had.

That's how you find yourself inviting him to your house, where you fixed him some lemonade and grabbed some cookies from the pantry for the two of you to snack on as you sat on the porch.

Will finished his previous sentence, placing down a half-empty glass of lemonade. His brows are furrowed, and his usual smile is set in a deep frown. You wanted to rid him of it, and ease away any worries, as a mother should.

"Y'know, growing up without Apollo was hard, but I managed. It was my mother that was difficult. She was distant, hardly there. To be fair, she's famous, but it was still hard. She never made cookies--or made me lemonade. I... you're everything I wished for her to be."

When you stayed quiet, staring down at your lap, he stuttered to correct himself. "I'm sorry if that's weird---I, well, --" you tugged him close, cautious of the food.

He was pressed up against your side, and as soon as his skin met yours he melted, and let you hug him close and warm.

"It's not weird."

"Are you sure?" he said, voice quiet, unsure. It was the same tone Apollo had used.

"Certain."

He pressed a bit closer. "I feel like a baby," he laughed, "fifteen-years-old and I'm being held like a toddler."

"It's always good to be held sometimes," you say, rubbing your hand up his arm. He sniffed, and you didn't have to look down to know that he was holding back tears. How had the tone shifted so quickly?

"I'm sorry," he says, voice thick with emotion. He moves to get up, ears tinged pink, "I shouldn't be doing this. You're not even my mother--"

"Stop it. Calm down and relax."

He does, only after you have to forcibly tug him back down. He settles down next to you, and takes deep breaths to push away the tears in his eyes.

You don't know how long the two of you sit there, but your legs are beginning to cramp from being in the same position and Will is letting out soft snores against your collarbone. The sun is sinking into the horizon, and you try not to jump when he speaks.

"You're good with him," Apollo says, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

You frown, "you say that like he's a dog."

He looks away and shrugs, "I'm not good with kids, you know that."

"Neither am I," you huff, and your arms tighten around Will.

"I think Will has a different opinion."

"We all do," you say, and look down as Apollo gets closer. He settles beside you and whispers his next words.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I can do to please you anymore."

You close your eyes and sigh. "Just--stay, okay?"

He nods, "okay."

And he does. Apollo sits there until the sun is gone, his chin on your head, and arms holding both you and Will firmly. You're asleep before you know it, and he's hoisting you both up to bring you inside.

He places Will on the couch with a light blanket, before bringing you to your bedroom. He lays you down, and presses a feather-light kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he whispers, hand holding yours.

Unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his, and he beams.

#apollo #greek mythology #apollo x reader #Apollo x reader pjo #x reader #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #moondrop writes #pjo hoo toa #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #fluff #will solace #motherhood

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bunnyhoney111 · 10 months

Text

new song.

eddie munson x fem!best friend!reader

desc.: you guys are always a bit too honest when you’re high, and you whine about being horny, my casual sexuality kink

warnings: uhh lots of soup making on your end, eddie being a little too laid back, KINDA and i mean BARELY dub-con just for the very end; he doesn't do anything to her he just does something(?), kinda-ish friends with benefits situation.

request: no ma'am, no ham, no turkey- exTREMELY self-indulgent.

w/c: 968

a/n: i've been writing this for over the course of two-ish years now, just finished it as i want to get back to tumblr now 😭😭😔. i hope it's good enough to reinstate some of my audience. it's also a leetle short sorry folks

“eddie, ‘m horny,” you whined- drawling out his name, squirming in your place next to him on the bed. he was writing lyrics in his notebook to a song he’d been working on. he reached over pressed a hand into your stomach to stop you.

“i’m sorry sweetheart, but i’m not sure what you want me to do about that,” he didn’t spare you a glance, his hand returning to the notebook.

“it hurts,” you sighed, crossing your arms under your chest. you could feel the swelling of your clit as blood rushed to the area, you’d always felt this way when you got high.

“go to the bathroom, make soup,” he said, still running his eyes over the words and occasionally erasing to correct a line or a verse.

“ew.”

“im sorry, rub one out, flick the bean, choke your chicken-“ he continued throwing slang at you with a giggle as he finally looked over at your glistening face. your pupils were dilated almost to the point of hiding all the color in your irises, and your mouth opened to cut him off.

“it’s not that easy for girls, its not just one and done, and i certainly couldn’t cum in your dingy bathroom, freak.” you’d called him that out of endearment, it didn’t sting like usual when it came from you.

“well, do it there then,” he stated casually, flipping between pages. you whipped your head towards him, when he doesn’t look back towards you, you let out a scoff at his suggestion.

“what? i don’t mind, i’m not even paying attention.” he glanced at you as he spoke, before returning to his scrawled handwriting.

you still couldn’t tell if he was joking, but you couldn’t seem to care as your thighs started to rub together, trying to resist the urge to reach into your underwear and satisfy the ache.

eddie notices your hesitance, and your shifting thighs, and places his notebook down momentarily before moving to his knees in front of you. without a word, or so much as a glance he brings his hands to grasp at the waist of your shorts. he nodded to you slightly, his eyes still trained downwards, prompting you to lift your hips.

he slides them down with ease, pulling your underwear down with them. he pushes your thight apart, using two fingers to spread you out, you simply waiting for his next move; too high to question his motives. too needy. he splays his palm towards you, waiting for your hand.

you gave him your hand, but he grasped your wrist, and he guided your fingertips to rest against your throbbing clit, pressing them with his into your bud and assisting the slow circular motion. you gasp at the pressure, and soon enough eddies climbing away from you, removing his hand from yours.

you continue the movements he’d been guiding you with, as he nestles back into his spot and continues writing in his notebook, short glances strewn your way every time you whimpered.

“shit,” you cursed, your forefinger dipping down into your yet untouched hole. the squelching from between your legs was filthy, and it caught eddies attention- along with the borderline pornographic moan.

his eyes stray from the notebook, down to your soaked core. his lip is pulled between his teeth and he lets out a hiss at the sight- his dick hardening at an astounding pace in his pants.

with your eyes closed you don't seem to notice as he begins rubbing his hard-on through his pajama pants- one hand still holding the notebook open. he listens carefully to your blissful moans and whimpers of his name as if he were the one touching you.

it was only fate that the song he'd been writing was about some fucked up version of a one night stand with a friend- he glances back at the words and without hesitation he pushes himself off of the bed and walks to his dresser.

"mmm, what're ya doin' ed?" your eyes crack open to see him grabbing something. he walks back to you with one hand behind his back, his other clutching the now closed notebook at his side.

he tossed the book to his side of the bed, still watching your hands ministrations to your cunt.

"shhh, don't talk- just let me hear you."

you don't hesitate to let out another guttural moan, fingers deep inside yourself, staring directly at him.

his eyes go wild and his smiles so wide you can't imagine his cheeks aren't sore. "say my name, pretty please." you hear a soft click and before you can question it you're squirming and pulsing around your own fingers.

you revel in your release, letting out that same pornographic moan that had caught his attention before and let out a breathy scream of his name. "eddie, please!"

sweat beaded your forehead, you gasp to catch your breath as you slowly remove your fingers- a sick squelch coming from your pussy before you hear that click again.

eddie pulls his hand from behind his back, a tape-recorder cemented in his palm. he plays it back to you, and you shrivel with embarrassment as the moan of his name and the sounds of your own body play back to you.

"ugh, you ass!" you quickly lurch forward and grab it from his hand and flip him off threatening to erase the recorded sound.

"hey! don't you dare, i need that." he snatches it back from your grasp. you give him a questioning glance, your left eyebrow perched higher than the other and an almost-frown as you tilt your head slightly.

there go those wild eyes of his, once more, followed by a short- sharp smack to your ass, "for your feature on my soon-to-be latest, and greatest, banger."

#stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season four #eddie munson smut #stranger things 4 #best friend!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #casual fantasy??#idk what else to put...enjoy

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viovicugna · 1 year

Text

Headcanons about the Obey Me brothers (Mammon, Leviathan, Lucifer, Belphagor and Beelzebub)

Mammon

• Mammon does a little dance when he gets excited, mostly after winning something. He calls it 'the Mammon Groove' everyone else calls it cute stupid.

• He talks very loudly and can't always control it, due to ADHD.

• He heckles like ~ kekekeke ~ when he plans a new get-rich-quick scheme. And lets out a bird like scream when he gets scared. That's why no one enjoys watching horror movies with Mammon. It sounds like they're strangling a turkey.

• He picks on his food. Eats little bites from everything in no order. Lucifer tried making him quit because he's very messy while doing it. But it didn't work, has since given up.

• He's really good at mimicking voices, only Lucifer can tell when it's Mammon.

• Mammon will hoard anything shiny under his bed and forget about it. So there's like forks from the year 1469 that he once stole from the Queen or smt.

Leviathan

• Levi doesn't have to blink in his Demon and True Form. His eyes are covered with thin, see through scales, his eyes have a shiny, iridescent look to them because of it.

• He forgets to blink in his Human Form, so his eyes are often irritated and dry. They're constantly reddened and teary due to it. Asmo hates it and forces him to take eye drops. Like literally forces, he holds him down-

• He picks at his skin a lot. MC freaked out when he pealed off a chunck of his arm skin. But no worries, his skin is thick and he has more layers than humans.

• Has a slight lisp because snake.

• Hisses when he's being dramatic. "Levi get up-" "HIZZZZZZZ NO THE SUN! I'M BURNING-"

• Cuddling with him is like doing yoga. He finds a way that his left leg will end up on your shoulder, his right leg wrapped around your left, his left arm around your waist, his right arm around your neck, and his head under your arm-

• His tongue just bleeps often. It just hangs out his mouth while playing games, or when he's sewing. Anytime he's focused.

• Has a split tongue and can do tricks with it (not like that you pervert-). Thought about getting it pierced, but got stuck on where he could even get it pierced and freaked out at the thought of someone having to look in his mouth. What if his breath smells bad, what if he drools, what if his teeth are-

• His fangs in his Demon Form are venomous, but they only work on Demons. Angels get something like blood poisoning from it. And for Humans it's like taking LSD.

Belphagor

• Everything about Belphie is soft, except his tongue. That bitch feels like sand paper. And he uses that as an advantage when MC messes with him. Sadistic fuck (endearment) only laughs at their misery.

• Has the most beautiful lashes you will ever see. Asmo is shaking in his chanel boots (I wanted to put gucci first but Mammons a gucci guy, Asmo so isn't-). Literally so pretty. Has double lashes (two rows).

• On the theme of eyes, his eyes are gorgeous. Uses that to his advantage also. One pity look and you wanna give him your social security number. They're big and always a little droopy with sleepyness. The only one who can deny him is Beel surprisingly.

• Loves laying on grass. It's the perfect sleeping spot for him.

• Have you seen shampooed cows? His hair is always that fluffy. Once went a month without washing it so it just hung flat, straight down. Then the brothers forced him to take a bath.

• Beel and Belphie, flies and cows ya get it-

• When scared he does that thing that goats do where he runs then falls and acts dead. Just that he's a little gremlin who's waiting for the person to get close enough to attack- It doesn't work on his siblings unfortunately. Be warned, if MC goes anywhere near him then they will be dragged down and cuddled to death. Belphie just lays on them so they can't escape.

• Huffs when frustrated, Beel got that from him.

Lucifer

• Lucifer spends a surprising amount of time grooming himself for how busy he is. Barely anyone notices, but he constantly readjusts his cuffs, gloves, hair, etc. Always takes a quick look in the mirror when there is one. Either smirks, because 'of course, everything is perfect' or furrows his brows and tucks an out of place hair back.

• Walks elegantly with long strides. Never seeming to be in a hurry unless it's an emergency.

• Holds his head high. Very intimidating to lower class Demons.

• Lucifer despises to admit that he also makes sounds close to a Peacocks ~ gobble gobble ~. He only does so when someone scares him, you can guess how many times that happens. Once MC startled him because he forgot they were still in his office. After he made that sound he didn't dare look MC in the eyes for the next week.

• He rattles his feathers to impress or intimidate. When MC is near him whilst he's in his Demon or True form you can observe him constantly flexing his wings and spreading them out to catch their attention.

• Affectionately fixes his brothers and MCs appearances when something's out of place. That's why Satan wears his jacket so fucked. Lucifer helped him put it on once, he took the sleeve off again so they had a fight about his sleeve. Had to stick with it from then on, it's a pride (or wrath ig) thing.

• If someone would pick him up never gonna happen his wings go ~ flop flop ~ because his brain is like 'oh okay, we're flying now'. If your MC is super strong please live mt dream and princess cary Luci around.

• He ties MCs shoes and zips up their jackets for them. He used to do that with the brothers, but they always complain that they're not children anymore. Let the dad be a dad goddamit-

Beelzebub

• Give Beel sugar water. Just water with sugar, he will nip on it for the next hour. It's like a drug, but more weed than cocaine. It calms him down and he just goes blank.

• He rubs his hands together as a habit like flies do.

• His standard position is one hand holding the other. He often rubs his thumb over the back of his other hand to calm down. Tries calming MC if they're worried by grasping their hands in his.

• Beel has trouble registering purely white objects. So when MC held a paper infront of his face he just went 😟

• Sometimes his eyes 'glitch' and he sees double. Has a lazy eye prob.

• In his demon form his wings go ~ buzz buzz ~ randomly.

• Insect phobia triggered

• He huffs when angry, a habit he got from Belphie.

• Beel feels naturally drawn to light, so he subconsciously sits closest to the next light source always. That's why he likes standing so close to MC, cuz to them humans glow (personal hc).

• Similar to Levi Beel sometimes forgets to blink. In his demon and true form he has a very thin, irredecant layer of skin covering his eyes. In his demon and true form it kinda looks like his eyes have multiple sections due to it. Kinda like how a fly's eyes look.

• Beel loves the smell of sweat-

• MC just done running from an angry Lucifer or smt idk, just sweaty and Beel's like "You smell good MC 😊"

• He's like a fly fr. You leave your food out for a second turn around, turn back and he's there on your plate-

#obey me #obey me headcanons #om! swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor #om! beel #om! belphie #om! luci #om! mammon #om! levi

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angelofacidx · 4 months

Text

Mascara

Toxic ex bf! Ghost x reader.

Cw: Verbal abuse, physical abuse, dub con

“Stumblin’ in at the ass crack of dawn dressed like a slag. Typical.” Simon grunts out, his hulking form sprawled lazily on your arm chair.

You freeze in your tracks, mouth going dry, heart beat creeping into your throat, and the hairs on your arm standing at attention. You’d expected something like this to happen soon. Since the break up you’d blocked him cold turkey on everything and tried your best to put the situation as far out of your mind as possible. It was impossible not to notice the signs of his impending debut back into your life though. The burner accounts that always viewed your social media stories first, the unknown number calls, and the middle aged man across the hall who’d warned you about a potential thief casing your place. It reeked of Simon, all of it.

“You need to get out of my house.” You say as firmly as you can, lips pulled tight and arms crossed against your chest, shielding your cleavage in the admittedly skimpy dress.

He lets out a dry chuckle with no humor behind it, somewhere deep in his chest before rising to his feet and taking a step towards you, causing you to reflexively flinch. A few more strides and you find yourself pressed to the door, barely enough room to breathe without your stomach pressing into his. His face connects to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His scent trail follows all the way down, dropping to his knees and lifting your dress to prod at your cunt with his nose while you’re paralyzed in disbelief and fear. He lets out a low hum and taps the outside of your thigh twice before standing, seeming satisfied with his fucked up field report.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, your voice cracking and hushed as you try to not give him the satisfaction of tears.

“Had to make sure no one else used my pussy. I know she was beggin’ for something all night with the way you’re dressed. You must be starved huh, love?” He muses, his hand snaking down to cup your cunt in his hand, rubbing at your clit with his palm and not bothering to pull your underwear to the side first.

You want to call the police. You want to tell him that you hate him and to get the hell out of your place. You want to scream at him until your vocal cords tear. However, there’s a difference between a want and a need. He’d taught you that well. Right now with the alcohol still in your system and the neglect of your sex drive for months, you need him. You need to feel the way that only he can make you feel, and you can’t tell if you hate him or yourself more in this moment.

Your resistance fades away the more he palms at your pussy and is lost all together when he rips your panties off, spitting on his hand and rubbing two calloused fingers over your puffy clit. The sparks of pleasure run up your spine and down your legs, causing them to shake and become unsteady. In an act of mercy you’re slung over his shoulder and walked to your room. He drops you onto the bed unceremoniously, pawing at your dress before finally ripping it off over your head, letting it fall to the floor.

“There she is.” He hums, running his hands down the soft skin of your belly and stopping right before where you needed him most.

“Please. Simon please just—I need—.” You attempt to say before a sharp slap to your pussy cuts you off, a strangled squeal leaving your throat.

“I know what you need. I know you better than anyone.” He says lowly, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats and underwear, pulling them down in a fluid motion.

His cock is rock hard, red at the tip and weepy. From the looks of it, he hadn’t gotten laid lately either. He leans forward and slaps the fat tip against your clit, a content smirk on his lips. You scold yourself mentally from almost sentimentalizing it. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be under him again. You should—.

Your thoughts completely clear as you feel the agonizing stretch of very little prep. A deep burn and sting in your core that promises to dissapear and replace itself with blissful fullness. He wastes no time, his hips rocking into you; fat cock dipping in and out of you as his balls slap against your ass. One of his hands finds it’s home on your throat and the other rests on your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow.

“You know where home is. Don’t cha’ baby? Waited nice an’ good for me to come back and take care of my pretty pussy.” He growls, the tempo of his thrusts picking up and causing your hips to ache from the constant slamming.

“Fuck you Simon.” You manage to choke out with all of the malice that you can, and in a moment of boldness spitting right in his face.

His thrusts grind to a halt and he lifts his hand to his face, using the back of his palm to wipe the spit off of his chin and onto your sheets. His eyes lock with yours, brows knitted together and pupils blown out like a jaguar about to disembowel a poor tapir. Immediately you want to take it back, to apologize and kneel at his feet and beg to him like a god for a shred of mercy. But his mind seems to be already made up.

The back of his palm connects with your cheek just once, leaving it red and stinging and angry. The tears that finally flow from your eyes drag muddy grey lines down your face, mascara and eyeliner. Simon seems to be spurred on by your disheveled look, his thrusts picking up again and hand returning to your face.

“I fuckin’ own you. Dumb little bitch. You need to be led and told what to do. Can’t be trusted alone. Gonna get yourself killed or knocked up by some deadbeat.” He grunts into your ear, his pace becoming erratic indicating that he’s nearing his end.

Your cunt clenches hard around him involuntarily, your thighs locking around him as you reach your orgasm, involuntarily milking Simon in the process. You’d be screaming if it wasn’t for the massive hand clamping your airway shut, which your neighbors are probably grateful for. With a loud moan Simon spills, his hips stilling as hot cum floods your insides. He doesn’t bother to pull out before laying next to you, half hard cock nestled comfortably in your pussy.

“Sweet thing. It’s a big world out there, you’d be lost without me wouldn’t you little stray?” He hums, licking his thumb and rubbing it against your cheek to try and wipe off the makeup mess.

“…Yes, Si.” You agree, full of shame and guilt.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

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chelseachilly · 3 months

Text

my captain

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: literally just fluff celebrating ben leading the team out again and chels winning the semi final 😌 warnings: none word count: 1.7k

author's note: hope you enjoy, literally wrote this in like 30 mins so forgive any typos hahah

In all the years you’ve known and loved Ben Chilwell, it’s never gotten any easier seeing him struggle with injuries.

It still hurts every time you watch him limp off the pitch, seeing both the physical and emotional pain behind his eyes. But it fills you with unimaginable pride the way he always works relentlessly to return to playing for his club. He never gives up, even when a lot of people would - he hardly even complains, though you’re always there when he needs to vent.

Truthfully, you’re glad to listen to him and drive him to physio appointments and do everything in your power to make him feel better, because there isn’t really much else you can do. It’s an unfortunate reality of football that there are always going to be injuries, and some players suffer more than others.

These trials and tribulations only make it that much sweeter when you finally get to see your man back to doing what he loves.

They also make you feel exceptionally proud when your boyfriend comes home from training and tells you that he’s back in the starting lineup for the semi-final against Middlesborough tomorrow, back to captaining the team.

After you celebrate - which consists of lots of sweet kisses and watching one of Ben’s favourite films, since you can’t properly celebrate the night before a match - you spend the night cuddling and wake up wrapped in Ben’s arms with him pressing kisses to the back of your neck.

“Good morning, baby,” you murmur, reaching back to comb your fingers through his hair. You kind of love how long he’s let it grow out since he’s been in recovery, especially in the morning when it’s all messy and fluffy. “Happy game day.”

“Morning, love,” Ben says, gently guiding you to roll

over and face him.

You love seeing that familiar twinkle back in his eyes, knowing that he gets to play the game he loves today.

“You ready for tonight?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles with a kiss to your lips. “I have a good feeling about it.”

“So do I,” you whisper between kisses, shifting closer to him and smiling as his hand slides down your hip and pulls your leg over his. “You’re gonna kill it.”

Ben grins and pulls you even closer, gently nudging your nose with his before diving in for another kiss, then another; then another. You sink into the blissful wake-up he’s giving you, soft moans leaving your lips as his hands roam your body.

Unfortunately, it can’t go much further - both because of his game later, and because you’ve already had a bit of a lie in and you know it’s time to get ready for the day.

“What time do you have to be at the Bridge?” you ask him as you reluctantly part and rest your chin on his bare chest.

You’ve gotten used to going to his games together while he’s been out, but now that he’s back to playing and needing to be there early for warmups, you’re going with Alex, Tom, and some of your other friends.

“Not til five, but I have a haircut scheduled in a couple hours,” he tells you, making you frown slightly.

“I like your longer hair,” you pout, continuing to run your hand through it. “It’s cute.”

“Sorry, babe, gotta look fresh for my first game back in the starting lineup,” Ben apologizes with another kiss to your pouted lips. “I won’t go too much shorter, promise. Just a trim.”

“You better not,” you murmur against his lips before pulling away, much to his chagrin. “Let’s go make some breakfast, you need fuel for later.”

After you’ve made some smoothies, as well as eggs and turkey bacon for Ben, you enjoy a nice, leisurely breakfast together before facing the day.

You know you probably won’t have time to see Ben before the game by the time you arrive at the stadium, so you kiss him for luck before he goes. Once he’s got his shoes and jacket on, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.

“Good luck tonight, Benji,” you say softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Can’t wait to watch you remind everyone how good you are.”

Ben’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and though you know how eager he was to be back, you also know he’s nervous about letting the team and the fans down when they have a chance at a trophy.

“You’re amazing, Ben,” you remind him. “And if you need a reminder of how incredible you are, just look up at your box and you’ll see your biggest fan cheering her arse off for you.”

His grin widens at that, and he squeezes your waist gently.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

You nod with a smile. “I love you too.”

Ben pecks your lips one more time and takes one last good look at you, still wearing only his t-shirt and your underwear, before he heads out the door.

You spend the rest of your day doing some chores around the house until it’s time for you to get ready, doing your hair and makeup before changing into Ben’s jersey and some jeans. You’ve always adored wearing his name on your back, but never more than on nights like tonight.

Alex comes over a bit before you have to leave, and the two of hang out for a while before catching an Uber to the stadium.

Stamford Bridge is full of life tonight in a way you haven’t really seen in over a year now, and you hope that it’s a good thing - a sign that things are finally starting to turn around for Chelsea. You meet Tom, Harvey, and a few other friends in the hospitality box and catch up over some drinks.

You all take your seats before the game starts, and your heart swells with pride as you watch Ben lead the team out onto the pitch for the first time in months.

“Come on, babe,” you whisper under your breath as the whistle blows and play begins.

To your massive delight, what follows is Ben having one of the best games you’ve seen in his career. His passing accuracy is nearly perfect, he nearly scores in the first 15 minutes and sets up the first goal of the match only a few minutes later. You can tell how delighted he is to be back out there as Chelsea scores goal after goal, his pure joy obvious as he celebrates with his teammates.

In addition to his skill and experience, you can see the impact his leadership is making on this young squad. Nothing makes you prouder than how much time and effort he puts into supporting and encouraging the younger players, and you know how much he loves doing it.

When he’s subbed off in the 65th minute, you’re relieved that he isn’t pushing his limits too soon after coming back, and even more relieved that he’s walking off with a smile on his face instead of pain behind his eyes.

As he’s clapping the fans on his way to the bench, he blows a kiss up at where he knows you’re sitting. Even though you know he probably can’t see you, you blow one right back.

The rest of the game passes and Chelsea emerge victorious with six goals to show for it, a very welcome turnaround from the first leg of the semi final. You’re buzzing with excitement to see him, so you and the rest of the group head down to the players lounge shortly after the whistle blows to wait for him.

It takes a bit longer than you’d like for him to do interviews and get changed, but when you finally see him emerge, freshly showered and wearing in his Chelsea joggers and matching hoodie, you run straight toward him.

Ben smiles as soon as he sees you and opens his arms to catch you as you throw yours around his neck and bury your face in his neck.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he murmurs into your hair. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Of course I did, you were bloody brilliant,” you tell him in no uncertain terms. “And on your first start back? You’re amazing, Ben Chilwell.”

Ben pulls back, beaming at you with slightly flushed cheeks.

“It’s all cause of you, you know,” he says quietly, thumbs stroking your waist. “I wouldn’t have the strength to keep going every time without you. Every game, every time I wear the armband, every time I score a goal, it’s all for you.”

You don’t necessarily agree with him, since you think he’s one of the strongest people you know and you wouldn’t dare take credit for any of his success, but his words are so sweet that you can’t possibly dispute them.

“I’m so happy you’re back, baby,” you tell him softly, running your fingers through his hair that you’re grateful he didn’t get cut much shorter. “Oh, and that absolutely should’ve been a penalty in the first half. And giving Misha a yellow for complaining? I don’t know what that ref was thinking.”

Ben chuckles, obviously not overly fussed about it since they won comfortably in the end, but loving your passion for the game as always.

“I love you so damn much,” he grins, not giving you the chance to reply before grabbing your face and kissing you lovingly.

You kiss him back with just as much affection, sinking into his warmth.

“Love you too, captain,” you smile after pulling away, squeezing his bicep where the armband rested earlier. “Now, let’s go home. I bet you need a rest after that.”

Ben nods gratefully, obviously exhausted from the most minutes he’s played since September, and wraps his arm around your shoulders so you can make your way over to bid your friends goodbye. His hand lightly grazes his last name on your back as you speak with them, never getting tired of seeing you wear it.

It’s nearly midnight by the time you get home and get ready for bed, curling up under your comfy duvet and reaching out for Ben immediately.

As your arms and legs tangle and your head finds its place on his chest, you murmur how proud you are of him one more time before drifting off into a blissful sleep.

a/n: please let me know what you thought, your feedback makes my day!! 😊

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x y/n #chelsea fc imagine

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l0n3ly-gh0st205 · 1 year

Text

Child!reader meeting/ joining the white beard pirates

A/n: Is this a little bit all over the place? Yes. Do I care? No❤️ I got so much love for my previous writing, so I added some more! Giving specific love to the white beard crew ❤️❤️

-ft. Portagas D. Ace, Marco the Phoenix, thatch death

-TW: spoilers for ace’s introduction to the white beard pirates and thatches death, hints of abandonment, yelling, and not much but a little bit of angst in Ace’s section.

[■□□□□□□□□□] 10%

☆꧁༒Ĺoading. . .༒꧂☆

[■■■■■■□□□□] 60%

☆꧁༒Ĺoading. . .༒꧂☆

[■■■■■■■■■■] 100%

☆꧁༒Complete༒꧂☆

꧁ head cannons ꧂

You were probably found when you were still an infant, so you have no memory of your life before the crew

They probably say something like you magically appeared in a barrel or one of thatch’s botched recipes spurred you into existence if you ever go around asking questions about it

They want to keep you happy so you don’t doubt your familial bonds

But of course, watching one of your brothers kill your other brother over a weird-looking fruit probably put a damper on that :)

Marco remembers the freezing wind of that faithful day, the ocean breeze picking up shards of ice as a seemingly normal ration run with his friend turned into meeting the youngest member of their crew.

A loud bang shook Marco out of the memory as his head swirled to the door. The familiar childish screams and laughs at least hinted that the noise wasn’t causing pain; he couldn’t help but smile.

It’s been five years since that winter storm, and although the phoenix hated the cold more than anything, he couldn’t help but be glad for that storm.

Thatch stumbled on a hidden branch covered in snow. Marco grabbed his arm before glaring at the other man

“We had to come during the middle of winter-yoi?” He snarked for the umpteenth time since the two got caught in the storm. Thatch huffed and rolled his eyes “bug off bird brains; they’ve got the best beef in the west blue!” He snapped. The two came upon a rushing river, and thatch groaned, nodding towards the rubble of a bridge that once stood

“Seems the ice and rapids took out the bridge, be a dear big bird and Carry me over?” Thatch slid a sly smile to Marco, who rolled his eyes “you always boast about your ability to swim yoi-“ the rattle of wood cut off Marco's comment, and the two commanders glanced over at the bridge, noting a small box that was caught on some rubble, the two watched as the box shook against the tide leering to the side causing the freezing water to slip into the box. The cold caused the young occupant in the box to let out a blood-curdling scream causing both of the men to tense.

“It's open,” Marco responded to the gentle taps on his door. It opened with a protesting squeak, and the young child peeped their head around the corner

“Big brother! Ace is being mean to me-” the child pouted, causing the old doctor to chuckle “(Y/N), what did you do now yoi?”

“Did nothin'! Promise!” they huffed, sending a glare toward the doctor “it's all Teaches fault! He told me lunch was ready and to go wake up ace!” Marco hummed, resting his chin on his hand, “and, let me guess, you decided to wake him up by tickling him, yoi ?” he couldn't help but smile at the way they puff out their cheeks while muttering a small ‘maybe.’

Marco got up from his seat and gently ruffled the youngster's hair “come on, let's go see if thatch can whip up some food to help soothe ace yoi,” he said with a smile, gently pushing the younger out the door

“Okay!” they called out and started running down the hall, leaving the old man behind to wallow in his sentimental ways with a smile.

After first getting brought onto the ship you know damn well these men didn't know how to care for a baby-

I can just imagine them trying to feed you by offering you a giant turkey leg 💀

Since Marco stayed on the ship most of the time, he was your number-one babysitter. It would have been pops, but he was so nervous that he’d hurt you cause you're so small :(

If Marco couldn't, then thatch would be the second-best person; he’d keep you in the kitchen so you didn't get into too much trouble

Thatch and Marco were there for most of your significant milestones, and we’re always quick to share it with the rest of the crew

Thatch stared down at the carnage that graced his kitchen. Plates were broken and strewn on the floor; his delicate fresh vegetables smushed and drooled on. He turned to the rather cute culprit. Who was asleep on the tile floor, red hands from smoothing the tomatoes, holding an eggplant as a pillow.

Thatch pinched the bridge of his nose, suppressing a scream. He looked back at the sleeping toddler and gently picked them up, stirring them from their slumber “so- what do you have to say for yourself?” He grumbled.

The baby in his arms just smiled and lazily babbled at him, mouth full of baby teeth and eyes sparkling with more stars than the night sky; really, how could he stay mad at this adorable creature? The cook smiled at the child’s nonsense, and the baby reached up for him, dirty hands smearing tomato juice all over his white collar, and he rolled his eyes

“Alright, alright, you little demon, let’s get you cleaned up before you make even more of a mess- of course, you start crawling when I’m not looking-“ the chief mumbled and headed for the bathroom. He ran the warm water and gently placed the toddler down in the water, making sure he cleaned off any remaining mess from their skin.

Ace was a different story.

Im not saying fuck canon time line… but-

The ex-captain of the spade pirates infamously wanted nothing to do with the white-beard crew.

Despite his multiple murder attempts- the youngest member of white beards crew always seemed to follow him around like a little duckling

Did it remind him of his little brothers? Yes. Was he going to admit that you were adorable and could do no wrong in his eyes? …maybe-

Look all I’m saying is-

Ace: *sees a small child* big brother mode A C T I V A T E D.

Ace sat against the railing of the Moby-Dick, twiddling his knife in his hands as he thought of his latest ploy against White-beard. He could feel eyes burning into his side, which he pointedly ignored.

The boy let out a sigh; that brat sure was relentless- he hesitantly raised his eye, meeting the gazes of the crew's youngest member. They let out a soft squeak before ducking behind the corner they used for cover. Ace narrowed his eyes as he huffed out his nose, sliding his knife back into his carrier

“Leave me alone, brat,” he muttered, but the startled gasp was enough that he knew his message got across, the child hesitantly stepped out from behind the corner, and a pang of guilt stabbed through ace’s chest- the kid couldn't have been older than 10. He watched as they seemed to look for their words

“Um… big brother… Marco wanted me to make sure you were, um… you were okay…” they hesitated, looking over aces face and waiting for a reply.

Ace couldn’t help but scrunch his nose in irritation “im not your big brother.” he stated, pointedly rising from his sitting position and starting to walk away. The young pirate gasped and quickly followed after him “b-but gramps said you joined the family-” the child worried their lip between their teeth, recalling macros words

“Be patient,” Marco hummed as (y/n) excitedly swung their legs in their chair, “but I wanna meet my new brother!” they almost whined, pulling a chuckle from the doctor. “In time, Ace is... Let's say having a hard time adjusting to the family.” Marco turned and ruffled his younger siblings' hair. “Think of him like a cat; he isn't comfortable yet; he might bare some claws, yoi.”

(y/n) pushed their bottom lip into a pout, “but he’s my brother- brothers don't hurt each other!” Marco gave them a weary smile “all im saying is just be slow.”

Ace’s scoff of disdain pulled them from their memory, and they stopped, almost slamming right into his leg “im not a part of your stupid family!” he yelled, taking the younger pirate aback

In all the trouble (y/n) had gotten into, they had never heard anyone yell at them with such anger. They bit their lip roughly, holding back the welling emotions as their eyes pricked with tears. They looked down and Ace was taken aback, regretting his tone, not his words.

When (Y/n) looked back up, big fat tears were rolling down their cheeks as they suppressed a sob “y- you just aren’t comfortable yet-“ they wept, using their first to wipe away the futile tears and snot “t-that’s why your claws are out.” They quickly turned away from ace and ran before he could even mutter an apology. Ace tsked and promptly turned away. Guilt was eating him up from the inside.

#marco x reader #child!reader #marco the phoenix #familial x reader #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard pirates x sibling!reader #thatch #thatch one piece #portagas d. ace #ace x reader #little ooc #one piece found family #one piece x reader #one piece #thatch x reader #Marco x child!reader #ace x child!reader #thatch x child!reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

Text

One Way or Another

Series Masterlist

Warnings: dark elements but nothing too graphic in this one.

Please leave me some feedback either in a reblog or an ask! Likes are always appreciated as well. You know I love yall and hell yeah, you love Professor Steve.

Your last exam is over and you feel a sense of freedom lurking ahead. You can't be certain until you get your grades but with all your effort, you can't imagine you'll fall short. Now you have the whole holiday to recover. Well, you only hope it's refreshing.

Your dorm feels eerily empty so you happily hop at Jensen’s text. He still has a few roommates hanging around so you suggest he comes over. You tidy frantically, trying to hide the remnants of your studious sloth.

When he gets there, you have Netflix mindlessly playing. There's a giddiness to meeting without the lurking stress of classes or exams. No worries, just each other.

You sit on your desk chair as he admires the amiibo collection on your shelf. He sucks his teeth and turns to you with a suspicious leer.

"You didn't tell me had the special edition Link with his mastersword…" he drawls accusatorily.

"Oh, did you ask?" You stick your tongue out.

He rolls his eyes and spins, sitting heavily on your coverlet, the pattern of blue flowers on white, adding an extra dainty effect to your room, a stark contrast to his nerd cave.

"So…" he wiggles his eyebrows as he rubs the bedspread beside him.

"So," you put on a sultry tone and grin, "I thought we could do something special," you stand as seductively as you know how. It feels more awkward than sexy. "A very, very special and intimate thing…"

His eyes round as you come close and put your hands on his shoulders. You feel him tense and flex as you climb onto his lap. You straddle him and run your thumbs along his sideburns. You pull him into a kiss, slipping a taste of your tongue before you part and flutter your lashes.

"Grocery shopping!" You chime and he croaks, stifling a whimper.

"Grocery shopping?" He gulps.

"Uh huh! We can go amd pick out everything we need for or little holiday dinner and then we can come back a play some Mariokart. You said you'd bring your switch right?"

"Mariokart…" he chokes out, shifting under you, hands tentative on your hips.

"And maybe some snuggles," you giggle and lean in, kissing him deeper.

His hand shoot up your back, latching onto your neck as he keeps you from escaping again. He falls back with you but cries out as his teeth sink into your lip. You rip away from him as he touches the back of his skull where he knocked it off the wall.

You dab your lip and laugh, it's painfully fun.

"Hope you don't mind closer quarters," you tease as he pushes himself up.

"With you… the better? Is the shower big?" He winks.

"Alright, alright," you pat his chest and climb off him as you blush, "one thing at a time, let's make a list…"

"Can't we do this tomorrow?"

"The longer we wait, the busier it'll be. And besides, once we're back, I don't wanna go anywhere," you turn back and send him a look, "just you and me Jen. I wanna enjoy every second."

He huffs and clears his throat, shimmying closer to the edge. He tugs at the top of his jeans and you snatch up your phone as he adjusts his perch on the bed. Maybe it is a bit cruel but you can't help but feel flattered by his squirming.

📚

Your cart isn’t full. You don’t have much of a budget to stretch and a very economical list. Boxed stuff and turkey legs instead of the full to-do, some veggies you can manage to cook in your measly collection of pots, some cranberry sauce all for you since Jensen doesn’t enjoy it, and some buns.

“Just need to find the perfect pie,” Jensen says as he leans on the handle of the cart, “cherry?”

“Uh, pumpkin, duh.”

“Pumpkin, really?” He scowls.

“Hey, are you gonna shoot down all my suggestions?”

“Who says we can’t compromise… apple?”

“Fine, apple– oh, I forgot some more tea. I’m out of bags. Why don’t you go get in line and I’ll run to get that.”

“I don’t mind, you know I’ll follow you wherever,” he smirks crookedly.

“As cute as you are, I don’t want the checkout to get any more hectic,” you glance over at the dozen lanes open and binging.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“You can survive without me,” you squeeze his arm, pausing to feel his thick bicep. Oh.

“Went up a weight set,” he gloats as he stands straight and bends his arm to emphasize his muscle, “I’ll let you have a closer look later.”

“Please, tone it down,” you shake your head.

“Says the one feeling me up in the pastry section,” he tuts, “I’ll go and brave the hordes.”

“Right,” you scoff and leave him.

As you turn, you nearly run into another shopper. The place is buzzing with the pre-holiday crowds. You dodge and sneak between two tables of discount sugar cookies.

You head along the dairy section, the refrigeration chilling you through your unzipped jacket, and you weave between carts and bodies. You dip down the coffee section and wait for a couple to move out of the way of the tea. You toe in and peruse the labels, looking for your exact brand and leaf.

You find the tag but the spot is empty. Of course! It’s always gone. You frown and search for an alternative. At the very top shelf, you see the reserves. You peak the purple label of your tea. You just need to reach it.

You stand on your toes and stretch out, leaning to grasp for air. Another hand swoops up and grabs the box with ease. You wince and put your feet flat, glancing over at the helpful stranger as he holds out the tea.

“Thanks, I–”

The box moves out of your reach as you come face to face with Professor Rogers. You take a step back, hitting someone else, only to inch back towards the last person you expected or wanted to see. You almost pout as he gives a thought look to the tea.

“Huh, English Breakfast, I would’ve guessed Earl Grey,” he remarks as his blue eyes flick up.

“Professor,” you utter.

“Got a big dinner planned?” He asks, his tone gristly as his glare bores into you.

“Not really,” you lie and turn back to the shelf, “uh, sorry, I thought… I was just grabbing this.”

You grab the yellow box of cheap orange pekoe but before you can flee, he grips your arm, holding you in place as he leans in. You shudder as his breath fans over you as he bends to nuzzle your hair.

“I know you’re with him. Playing fucking house. Enjoy the game while it lasts,” he growls, “cause I’m not playing any more.”

He lets you go as you tear away from him and you nearly topple over. You sputter and look around for some help. Everyone else is too entranced by their own lists and hunts for the next item.

“Get away,” you hiss.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he mutters under his breath as he drops the box in his basket, “you’re not worth that much trouble. But one day you’ll be alone. Or you’ll think are…”

He slowly pivots and puffs out his chest. He lets out a snicker and you see the flicker in his face, like a shadow passing over. It flies away and he reaches past an older woman to grab the bag of sugar she’s straining for.

“Allow me, miss,” he says to her adoring gaze.

You don’t stick around to see the performance. You know what Professor Rogers is and you know that now that he’s shown you, there’s nothing holding him back.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #au #professor!steve #college au #one #captain america #avengers #mcu #marvel

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bones4thecats · 5 months

Text

2023 Thanksgiving Special; Slashers

A/N: Finally done with the 2023 Thanksgiving Specials!! Phew, my hands were starting to cramp writing these! I hope you all enjoy the four-parter that is this Thanksgiving! Have a great Thanksgiving!!

Spending Thanksgiving With Them

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🕯️ Vincent was always nervous when it came to the holidays

🕯️ The Sinclair brothers never really spent a true holiday together ever since returning to Ambrose years ago

🕯️ They’ve tried, but their work has always got in the way

🕯️ Vincent was the one who had cooked most of it, but Bo and Lester would hunt it all, rarely did they ever have to buy a lot of stuff, since they prepared ahead of time

🕯️ With your help, he made dinner a lot faster, and with you distracting him from the darker side of everything, Vincent valued you being there more and more

🕯️ He sat next to you and barely took of his mask normally, but you convinced him to take it off fully

🕯️ After cleaning, you and Vincent laid in bed and rested together, and every year after that, he’d look forward to Thanksgiving, and every holiday before and after

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🧱 This wall boy never really knew a good Thanksgiving ever since he was basically seven years old

🧱 So, when he had smelled the turkey and foods you were making in the kitchen, he was hit with a wave of nostalgia

🧱 He came out of the walls and looked over your shoulder in curiosity

🧱 Brahms watched you smile and lay a hand on his, which was holding the edge of the countertop

🧱 You asked him what he needed, and it launched from him following you around to him fully helping you cook

🧱 He never really cooked growing up, as he normally just ate the stuff his past babysitters and parents left him, or rather, his doll-self

🧱 Brahms found his love for cooking with you at that moment

🧱 He loved the turkey you both made

🧱 And he fell asleep just a half-hour later, you trapped in his arms

🧱 You better make sure you didn’t leave anything running, because you’re not coming out of there unless its a real emergency

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💝 This poor little guy didn’t know what was going on

💝 He watched you start cooking and tried climbing your legs to sit on your shoulder

💝 You just picked him up and sat him there as he made grabby hands to the pot which you were cooking with

💝 Gizmo listened to your explanation as to what Thanksgiving was and the food you were making was

💝 He’s so clueless about it it’s adorable af

💝 You better make sure he doesn’t sneak any pumpkin pie after midnight, or else you’re screwed

💝 Gizmo is the sweetest and tries helping you cook every single year, no matter what

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🍭 He hated this so much

🍭 He wanted it to be Halloween again, he wanted to make sure people were behaving and honoring the traditions

🍭 Who was gonna do that here?!

🍭 Sam did not want to help you cook, he didn’t believe in this holiday, do he didn’t care about the foods of it

🍭 But, after a while, and a lot of sugar bribing, he finally helped you with certain things, like going to the store with you to buy a turkey

🍭 He also helped you butcher the turkey, even though you said carve, he prefers butcher

🍭 You butcher meat, you don’t carve it! Don’t dishonor the pumpkins!

🍭 Sam is one of the most stubborn when it comes to eating the food

“ Samhain, eat it. “

* shakes his head no *

“ Sam. “

🍭 Once he finally caves, he goes immediately to his room to ‘sleep’ (idk if he actually sleeps, just guessing there)

🍭 Overall, just a sourpuss (just about as bad as Michael)

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astermath · 11 months

Note

Would it be okay to request a Carmy x reader where reader isn't a smoker but consumes lollipop instead? While on a break Carmy storms out stressed, unable to find cigarettes, reader notices his anxiety and causally takes lollipop out of their mouth and put into Carmys. "I know this can't replace nicotine but maybe this time you need something sweet". Carmy is suprised and reader just goes inside to work only to figure out later what they did and frantically running out back to apologize to Carmy. 👉👈

absolutely my dear!! I switched it up a teeny tiny bit, hope that's okay! thank you so much for the lovely idea! ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ

word count: 0.8K

warnings: swearing, slight suggestive talk, not proofread lol

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content!

It had been over a year since you'd quit smoking, a habit you'd originally picked up because of the stress from your job and education combined. And you'd gladly taken the breaks that came along with it.

It had started as a New Year's resolution, quitting smoking, but you took it very seriously. But going cold turkey was hard, really hard, so you'd turned to something else to fill the void.

Lollipops.

Relatively harmless, delicious and allowed inside too.

And your boss, Carmen, had been so kind to let you take your "lollipop breaks" outside too, when the others were smoking. It gained you a few confused looks from your colleagues at first, but they got used to it pretty soon.

A week ago, you and Carmen were closing up, and you'd jokingly offered him a lollipop from your stash instead of a cigarette.

"Hahah, very funny. Those are gotta be laced with somethin' with how much you love them." He reached for his pack of cigarettes.

"Just the recipe for cavities." You started looking through your bag. "Come on, what's your favorite flavor, I got a ton of 'em."

He sighed, putting the small cardboard box back in his pocket. "Give me the apple one."

"Good choice," you handed him the plastic wrapped candy, and he quickly tugged off the wrapper and put it in his mouth.

"Mm," he hummed, hands clasped as his arms rested over his knees. Sitting on the curb was always more comfortable after doing a closing shift. "Haven't had one of these in ages."

He watched you from the corner of his eye. Plump lips wrapped around hard candy, the hard part of it creating a slightly bulge in your cheek, and when you'd take it out, your lips would always make that satisfying pop. Shit, he'd almost started getting some unholy thoughts about it.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, still coming down from a long day of work.

"You know, smoking is really bad for you." You looked up at the night sky, trying to figure out if you were seeing a shooting star or a plane.

"No shit," he huffed, "so is sugar, dumbass."

You chuckled. "Touché chef, touché."

Tonight had been a night just like the one the week before.

You were already sat out on the curb, lollipop in your mouth, humming a tune to yourself, when Carmen went outside to join you. The weather was nice, and it was welcome after you'd just had the most hellish shift in a long time.

He reached for his cigarettes in his back pocket, brows furrowing when the packet felt surprisingly light. He opened it, groaning upon discovering it was empty. "Christ... I gotta let Richie stop bumming cigarettes from me." He was clearly irritated, foot tapping on the concrete as he looked off to the distance.

"Lollipop?" You asked, already reaching into your bag.

"Please," he sighed out, legs straightening out to stretch them a bit.

You started rummaging around, and just like him before, was met with the clear absence of your favorite snack. Either there was a candy thief around, or you seriously needed to start cutting back on how many of those you had per day.

"Fuck, I'm out, uhm..." You noticed how agitated he seemed, and you weren't about to have him go home in a shit mood after he'd worked so hard. So you figured you might as well try and ask.

"Do you want mine?"

He turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising at what you'd just said. He trusted you, he wasn't a believer of cooties, but taking a lollipop straight from someone else's mouth was a bit more extreme than having a sip from the same cup. But it was you, he knew you, he liked you, so... Fuck it, why not?

"Yeah... Sure." He watched your lips closely as the hard candy dragged across them, spit painting them so beautifully. He almost didn't notice your hand reaching it out to him, and he took it carefully. He looked straight into your eyes when popping it in his mouth, and you felt like there was something strangely erotic about it all.

"Well," you put your hands on your knees and got up, "I gotta go, I have somewhere to be early tomorrow, so..." You smiled, a little awkwardly. "You owe me a lollipop though."

He smiled, and you did too. "For sure. Now go home, I can tell you're tired chef."

"Heard." You grinned, waving a quick goodbye before walking off to the nearest metro station.

Man, he'd really start enjoying lollipops more if they were all covered in the taste of you.

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar @spr3id @deadandstill @777iii @magicboytrash

#aster replies #aster writes the bear #carmenmath #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x gn!reader #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #carmen berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white fic #jeremy allen white imagine #anon ask

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theemptyspacehelmet · 2 years

Text

Attention-Seeker

Pairing: Fred Weasley x female reader

Warnings: Smut (minors dni), unprotected sex (cuz fiction), tit sucking, oral (female receiving), handjob, light dirty talk, Fred is kinda a brat

Summary: Fred Weasley is tired of his girlfriend not giving him enough attention.

A/n: No stealing. Like it? Reblog. Make any requests if you want, not sure if I can get to them any time in the near future though.

Finals were in two weeks and you couldn’t afford to waste a single moment. Every minute you had outside of class was being spent holed up in either the library or your dorm cramming and trying to figure out what the fuck was the difference between a fairy and a pixie.

All you could care about was studying; it didn’t matter if other aspects of your life had to be put on the backburner until then, even if it meant ignoring Fred Weasley as he snuggled his face into your stomach as he laid on the bed shirtless.

You weren’t even sure at what point he came in, or even how he managed to sneak up into the girls’ dormitories in the first place. Fred always somehow got past the enchantments that prevented boys from climbing up the stairs; you never questioned it since first off, he’s Fred Weasley, there were very little things he can’t pull off, and also you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer. He had found you sitting on your bed cross-legged, parchments scurried all around as you studied intensely. You were so focused that you hardly even regarded him as he walked over and made himself at home on your comforter.

Fred had tried to grab your attention by striking up conversation, only receiving mere grunts and “hm?” in response. Unfazed, he went on to mindlessly play with your hair as you continued to look over your notes. Running his fingers through your hair, the way he knew got you tingly each time you two got intimate, he casually pushed it to the side in order to place soft ticklish kisses along your shoulder and up your neck.

“Not now,” you muttered, shrugging him off just as he lightly bit your earlobe. “I need to finish this.”

He huffed, and, like the brat he was, adjusted himself in order to lay his head down on your crossed lap; he looked up at you expectedly, amber eyes glittering.

“I don’t have time for this,” you sighed, not setting down your papers but also not pushing him off. “Just go hang out with George or something.”

But go he did not. Fred was unbelievably horny. Ever since exam season arrived, you’ve hardly given your own boyfriend the time of day. Your bedtime activities have hit a sudden hiatus, and Fred wasn’t the type to go cold turkey. He wasn’t leaving this room until he at least got something out of you.

His head remained firmly in your lap and you just decided to leave him be. Time passed and you two remained in that position as Fred continued to try and focus your attention on himself.

He wrapped his arms around your torso, creeping his hands up your shirt in order to fiddle with your bra strap. There was no resistance from you as he unclasped it and pulled it out and began playing with your bare breasts, shirt still on. You bit your lip lightly as he continued to flick you nipples but determinedly focused on your homework. A task that became considerably harder when Fred decided to pull your shirt over his head in order to start sucking on your tits, tongue flicking playfully. You let out a small squeak, and gave him a light-hearted slap on the arm.

“Later!”

All you received in return was a frustrated grunt, but he complied and took his head out. Instead, Fred sat up and pulled his own shirt off, leaving his upper-body completely bare. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, knowing this was his way to try and distract you.

You had always loved looking at Fred’s body. Obviously he was very fit, being the Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team after all, but it wasn’t in an obnoxious muscular way. It was more subtle, in a way where you only realized how toned he was when your were tracing along his arms, admiring the blanket of freckles that decorated his shoulders. But now wasn’t the time for that.

Casually, he rested his head back on your lap, burying his face into your stomach, snuggling. This much intimacy was fine, you’d allow it. But of course it wasn’t enough for Fred.

It was long before he hands were already exploring your body once more, particularly at the end of your skirt, his fingers inching up your led and tracing your stocking. Eventually he pulled them off— placing a trail of light kisses on your inner thigh, making your breath hitch.

At last, you decided to indulge him just slightly. You though providing him with a little pleasure might let him back off on his advances and finally give yourself room to think. Not even looking up from your notes, you reached down to his trousers and began to palm his cock through the fabric. Fred let out a low groan, lifting himself off your thigh.

His body began to jerk, long limbs stretching across the mattress and hips rutting in the direction of your hand in order to increase the friction. Panting, he cried out your name.

“More...”

“Don’t be greedy,” you said, rustling through your notes. He let out a small whine and shifted, lifting up your leg so he could have a view of your clothed cunt.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he urged, leaning in to leave a firm kiss directly on your clit, still covered under your panties. You just barely held back your moan. “It’ll make for a good stress-reliever...”

He continued this action until he could feel your grip on his cock begin to weaken as you started to submit into the urge. Hearing the papers finally slip out your fingers and scatter to the floor, he silently celebrated and eagerly tugged off your panties.

“Oh, sweetie, how much have you been holding back until now?” he cooed as he admired the view. You were much better at hiding your pleasure than it appeared; your cunt was already dripping and pulsing for satisfaction. Not wanting to waste a single moment, Fred dived in.

You let out a gasp as he ate you out like a dog lapping out of its bowl, leaning back to place your back completely on the bed. His tongue circled your clit just before he began to suck to area, causing you to cry out his name in ecstasy.

“F-fred!” you whimpered, feeling unbelievably turned-on. “I-I–”

“Shh, just let this happen,” he said, head still in between your thighs. “You have no idea how long I’ve been holding back.”

So you simply let out another moan and gripped the sheets as he continued on his work. His tongue swirled inside you and you were just about to reach your peak, a knot in your stomach pulling tighter and tighter when suddenly he stopped.

Coming up for air, Fred lifted his heads and locked eyes with you. He started to unbuckle his pants.

“Take off your shirt. I want to see your tits bounce as I fuck you dumb. Let all that studying go to waste.”

You listened, swiftly unbuttoning your top as he pulled off his he rest of his clothes. His cock was already hard, and dripping with precum. He helped you out of your skirt before positioning himself to your entrance, hands firmly on your waist.

He pushed himself inside, arising a sharp intake of breath from the both of you. Soon enough, he was thrusting.

You two had been together long enough that it wasn’t wrong until you fell into the right rhythm. Fred’s hips snapped to yours forcefully and you moved your waist to his thrust in order to get his cock deeper inside of you. You couldn’t stop your whines and moans as his pace started to get rougher.

“Yeah? You like that? I can feel yourself getting tighter around m’cock,” Fred grunted, gripping your waist even tighter. He then used one of his hands in order to thumb your clit, increasing the volumes your pleasure to a new level. “Tell me how you feel.”

“Good. I f-feel good,” you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist. “S-so good, Freddy.”

“You better remember this the next time you try to ignore me then,” he growled, leaning over to bite your lightly on the shoulder. “Forget exams. I’m the one you should focus on. OWLs could never make you feel as good as I do.”

“No. Only you,” you breathe, grasping Fred by the neck as he began to leave a trail of marks along your collarbone. He was numbing the rest of your senses. At that moment, he was the only one who existed in the universe. “I only want you right now.”

You could feel him smirk against your skin. Stars were appearing in your eyes and you reached out to kiss him. You could taste yourself in his mouth as your tongues tangled together.

It wasn’t long until you could once again feel the familiar tug in your stomach. The burning pit in your belly. You were just about to be sent over the edge.

“Fred, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m about to cum, I—” you groan and he continued to thrust into you.

“Cum with me doll.”

In a couple more harsh snaps, you were both groaning, drowning in the pleasures of your orgasms and burning in your bliss.

Fred pulled himself out, causing you to sharply inhale, and he fell down at your side, breathing heavily. You leaned over and placed a kiss on his temple. Just as you were pulling away, he caught a quick kiss on the lips, which you happily leaned into.

“Happy now?” He nodded giddily, wrapping his arms around your waist. You smirk and sit up, releasing yourself from his grasp. “Then could you please let me study now?”

#fred weasly x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fic #harry potter oneshot #harry potter smut

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thatgayb1tchwhosimps4her · 5 months

Text

Harlow's X-mas Fic Extravaganza Day 2/3

Summary: Reader's first Christmas with Jackie away from New Jersey, and her asshole mother (Ms Taylor slander is welcome!!), with a surprise or two along the way ;)

@zhivaxo

*****

Santa Baby

💖Jackie Taylor x GN(kinda)/AFAB Sadecki!Reader💖

Word Count: 1797.

Oh and also, there's a little bit of this sprinkled in there too, so yeah, you're welcome.

*****

"Is this alright?" Jeff asked, one hand on the star at the top of the Christmas tree, the other on the top of the step ladder he'd brought to help you and Jackie out with holiday decorations.

"Mmmmm, a little to the left." Jackie replied, pushing herself off the kitchen island, before going over and sitting on the armchair behind you, while sipping from her mug of eggnog, and while you were wrapping presents on the floor in front of her.

"Now?" He questioned after moving it to the left.

"Perfect." You both stated, looking up at the pink tree in all its glory.

"Still don't understand why you guys didn't stick to the traditional green tree." Jeff said, climbing down from the ladder, leaning it and himself against the wall opposite the pair of you.

"Cause most traditions are boring." You started, going back to your wrapping.

"Plus green trees remind us of our shitty childhoods." Jackie finished, putting her mug down and resting her hand on your shoulder while readjusting in her chair, draping her legs over one of the armrests.

"Preach." You and Jeff agreed, doing your signature (cringey in most people's opinion) 'Sadecki Sibling Handshake', while admiring Jeff's handy work on the pink tree; Decorated with silver tinsel, fake snow, white turned-off fairy lights, rose gold baubles, and a gold star.

'The more minimalist, the better', Jackie had said, which of course counted as getting a pink tree.

"Alright, I'm out." Jeff said, lifting his arm up to check his watch, and pulling on his jacket, "I've still got Christmas presents to buy for mom and dad, and a turkey to buy."

"Love you both, platonically, lots, and will call you tomorrow. Merry Christmas to all, and to all- ah fuck it, adios bitches." He rambled, pulling the ladder over his shoulder, and exiting the apartment.

"Bye Jeff!" You both called out, not looking away from the tree as the door slammed shut.

"Why did we get a pink tree?" You inquired, tilting your head back to look up at her, after finishing wrapping Shauna's present.

"Didn't you say the other day I was always right?" Jackie smirked, running her nail over your jawline.

"Mmmmmm, true, yeah that's true, I did say that, cause you are." You stated, leaning up and kissing her plush, pink-glossed lips softly.

"Mmmm," She moaned softly against your lips before pulling away slightly. "Cmon, I've got a surprise for you." The blonde added.

"Oh?" You stated, watching her get up from her chair, putting her cup on the kitchen island, and walking past the tree to your bedroom, following behind her.

"Oh." You repeated, watching her pull out a perfectly wrapped box with a red bow on top, out from her closet, walking over to you.

"Merry Christmas, my love." Jackie stated, leaning up and pressing a kiss on the crook of your jaw, before handing you the package, and sitting down at the end of the bed.

"Merry Christmas, Jax." You returned, sitting criss-crossed next to her, setting the box between the two of you.

You slowly slipped the ribbon off the sides, putting it on the floor, then running your fingers under the gap were each side of the wrapping paper met, ripping it open, to reveal a cardboard box underneath.

Jackie watched you eagerly, as you threw the wrapping paper onto the floor, then grabbed a pair of tweezers off your side table, then running them along the dent of the parcel tape, before putting them back on the side and opening up the box, pulling the contents out of it.

"Oh baby." You stated, sultrily, pulling out each object. A Santa hat, red suspenders, puffy red silk Santa trousers with a black belt, and then you layed eyes on it.

Around 6 and a half inches, maybe 7, slightly bent, and cherry red.

"Did you really get me a strap and Santa get-up as an early present?" You questioned, glancing up at her, running your thumb over the subtle bumps of the silicone strap in your hands.

"Do you like it? I wasn't exactly sure how any of it worked, probably looked like a baby gay looking around the store at all of them, bu-"

"It's perfect," You said, cutting her off by pressing a kiss against her lips, still running your thumb along the dildo. "So I'm guessing you, what, want me to put this on, n'let Santa give you a special reward for being a good girl and staying on the nice list this year or something?"

"Mmmmm, yeah, something like that." She said, wrapping her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your chest, looking up at you with a slight smirk playing on her lips.

"Wha- what now?!" You exclaimed, raising your eyebrows and looking down at her with wide eyes, trying to process what she's hinting at.

"Mmmmmm, yeeeah, maybe. I mean we don't have to, but I thought it'd be a good idea. Then that way I'll actually be asleep before Santa comes." Jackie reasoned, assisting her reasoning with her hands.

"God you're insane, but fucking twist my arm, let's do it." You stated, as a wide grin pulled its way on Jackie's lips, while she assisted you in pulling the rest of the items out of the box, and unfolding the trousers, laying them all out on the end of the bed.

"Oh this'll be fun." You stated, pulling a red silver bullet vibe out of the box, looking over at Jackie who was know sitting up against the headboard, and gulped slightly, before you starting putting the Santa pants on.

"I kinda forgot I bought that." Jackie said sheepishly, while scratching the back of her neck, as you finished securing the suspenders to the belt, picking up the leather straps of the strap-on, starting to put them on around your thigh.

"Well I'm glad you forgot. That look on your face just now was priceless." You joked, as you finishing donning the straps around your hips, before attaching the dildo to the holster, and pulling the Santa hat on your head, and crawling up to her, pressing another kiss on her lips.

"Totally knew this was gonna look hot." The blonde proudly stated, running her thumb along your hips and over the leather of the straps and the belt.

"Yeah okay, I'll admit you have good taste in get ups." You said, trailing your hands down to her baby pink shorts, pulling them down her legs and off her ankles, throwing them onto the floor.

"You're so pretty, Jackie." You praised, running your thumbs along her inner thighs, while repeatedly pressing wet kisses down her neck.

"God, this is so much better then I thought it was gonna be." Jackie uttered out and moaned breathlessly, tilting her head back against the headboard, and gripping your sides slightly.

"Hmm." You hummed softly in response, using your thumb to fiddle with the thin lace of her pink panties, before also pulling them down her legs, discarding them onto the heap of both your clothes.

'God damn Jackie and her adorable love and obsession for the colour pink.'

"Oh baby, you look so perfect for me, darling." You marvelled, running your thumb over her clit, earning a whine from the blonde.

"Fuck you're so good at this." Jackie moaned out, moving her hands to grip the hair on the back of your head, trying to push it down to her pussy.

You dipped your head, guided by Jackie's hand, down to her throbbing core, licking a strip along it, eliciting a long, low whine from the girl; 'God she's so pretty when she makes noises like that'.

You shuffled down to wrap your hands around the backs of her thighs, holding on to, and tracing the tips of your nails over them, causing Jackie to shiver slightly, before you started trailing tight circles around her clit with your tongue, sucking on it occasionally, making the blonde move her hands to the back of your head, tugging on your hair tightly.

"God-! You're fucking mommy so good, baby." Jackie whimpering out slightly, tugging your hair slightly harder, as the praise goes straight to your head, causing you to flick your tongue over her clit faster.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God-" The blonde kept breathily repeating, moaning and whining out softly, gripping the roots of your hair tighter, before uttering out quietly with a whimper.

"Oh fuck, baby-! You're gonna make mommy cum, baby."

"Cum for me mommy." You mumbled against her clit, lapping your tongue against and biting on it, tugging it between your teeth, sucking on it, sending her over the edge, hurtling into an orgasm with a harsh scream.

You kept flicking your tongue over her clit, prolonging her orgasm, until her heavy pants subsided and she closed her thighs around your head with a whine, making you pull away from her bundle of nerves, and lean up to kiss her lips softly.

"You're so pretty, mommy." You muttered softly against her lips, laying yourself against her chest for a moment, as she giggled out softly at the taste of her cum on your mouth.

"Thank you, sweet thing. You wanna go again?" Jackie asked, running her nails over your scalp, causing a small grin to pull at your lips, and you to push yourself up from her chest and kneel between her legs.

You positioned the strap at her entrance, before leaning forward and pressing another kiss against Jackie's lips, pushing the silicone toy inside her, soaking it in her slick, eliciting a low whine from the girl.

"God you're so pretty, Jax." You moaned, placing your hands on either side of her body, hovering over her slightly, while building a steady pace of your thrusts inside her.

"So gorgeous for me, mommy." You breathed out, building up your pace, thrusting in and out of her faster, running your thumbs over her hips.

"Fucking hell-!" The blonde moaned out, gripping the roots of your hair tighter then ever, throwing her head further back against the mattress, whining out loudly.

"Fuck, mommy, you that close again already."

"I- hmm hmm, f-uck, baby- I'm gonna cum!" She whimpered out.

"Oh mommy, you're so pretty like this- fuck, cum for me mommy." You stuttered out, hammering your hips against hers, causing her to release all over your silicone cock with a loud, high-pitched moan.

"Fucking hell," The blonde uttered out after coming down from her high a few moments later. "I should get you to do more often."

"You're such a dork," You chuckled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "I love you." You added.

"I love you too." Jackie replied, breathily.

*****

Wow okay, so this was honestly kinda lowkey a birthday treat for me, but I hope it was up to your guys' expectations/standards anyway.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!

Love you guys and see you in the next one.

-Harlow

*****

P.S: Also bonus gif, CAUSE LOOK AT HOW CUTE SHE IS!!!

Poor baby, had no idea wtf was going on, BUT LOOK AT THE FACE!!

#and before anyone says anything #yes i do believe that Jackie still believes in Santa #and no i'm not gonna ruin that for her #cause she deserves happiness #fight me #Harlow (Lottie's Version)#harlow speaks 🦒#Harlow's X-mas Extravaganza 2023 #yellowjackets #original content #mine not yours #jackie taylor #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor smut

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