#daddy's here and he's had enough™

[andy-clutterbuck]

Savage Rick | requested by Anonymous

#Rick Grimes #* #rg #The Ones Who Live #cool me next #where do i sign up #who can help Pat solve the puzzle? #D _ D D Y #can i buy a a vowel? An A? #no pun intended but lol #get 'em #daddy's here and he's had enough™ #i'm so happy that the snarls remain #that they're such a part™ of rick in andy's head that they're still there #i say that like it's something that's really deep #and not me just being a trash goblin #rick still kickin' thangs

[nico-di-genova]

Prompt?? Request?? Idk what this is but it’s been stuck in my head and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!!

——

Frat boy au where lance is super straight passing and acts really frat bro-y. But it’s Outside POV from another person in the college who assumes he’s probably homophobic and doesn’t treat women well/ all that stereotypical frat boy stuff. They complain abt fratboys all the time to their friends too and it’s this whole known thing in their friend group. Then they see him get into this super fancy car with a hot older man (nando ofc) and is like what’s up with that. Person keeps trying to ironically figure out if lance is part of the mafia or some other mystery. Turns out he’s in a loving relationship with his sugar daddy nando (person sees them kissing at a gay bar one night, among other things 😏) and after that they’re like damn wtf and have a change in perception of lance and can’t shut up about it and tells everyone “did u know lance is gay?!!” Other shenanigans ensue.

Bonus if they become friends in the end and lance tells them all the different ways and places nando fucks him.

I need you to know that this has unlocked something that I have been talking with my irls about for literally a month now. I will write this whole thing for you, but right now please enjoy this snippet and some Lore ™.

Also this may be so uniquely specific that no one will enjoy it, but I need everyone to know this has been my secret passion project for weeks now.

Logan absolutely despises group projects. He especially despises them when he’s partnered with perhaps the worst possible group of people you could be partnered with on an assignment that is responsible for a quarter of their grade. Other than the girl sitting to his left, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, spreading out notes in multi-colored pen and highlighter, their table is the least inspiring of the lot. For one, there’s him, who had barely passed elementary calc. last year and was on his way to failing macroeconomics this semester. But it’s the two sitting across from him that instill a particular sort of dread.

“You going to Rusty’s tonight?” one of them asks, Esteban, tall and lanky and slumped so low in his chair that Logan can almost touch his feet even though he’s clear on the other side of the table.

The other one, Lance, broad and just as long as his friend, shrugs, “I don’t know, man. Getting kind of bored of it.”

Logan watches as Lance takes off his backwards cap long enough to ruffle at his hair before sliding the hat back down onto his head. There’s Greek lettering embroidered along back for some fraternity Logan doesn’t know the letters of, but is sure they’re assholes, nonetheless. He’s seen the way Lance strolls into class enough times, backpack slung over one shoulder, if he even bothers to bring it, his phone in the other. He wears his AirPods during class, which easily outs him as the elitist snob he is – the type of student who’s here partying on daddy’s dime, who wouldn’t know what the term ‘work study’ meant if it ran him over with the  bike Logan knows Lance keeps in the University Village parking lot. Logan couldn’t afford off-campus housing, but he knows Lance can, the bike is always parked in a resident spot.

The girl beside him shifts her notes closer, he turns his attention to her, so he doesn’t have to hear Lance recount his exploits at the local bar that is known for serving underage undergrads.

“You took all of these?” He asks the girl, mildly impressed. Her handwriting is neat, so neat it almost looks unnatural. She’s color coded them, bolded certain words and underlined others. Logan is suddenly ashamed of the chicken scratch in his notebook that’s tucked beneath his arm.

For those that don’t know, Florida Gulf Coast University is a school in Fort Myers (in south Florida, on the opposite coast of Miami). Their big draw is being “close” to the beach, realistically it’s like a 30 minute drive.

They typically attract local kids on scholarship, or rich northerners who are just looking for an easy education. But they do offer a unique golf management degree, and their claim to fame is that they’re sometimes decent in the basketball department (like 1 time in 2015 but they just will not let it go). They also somewhat have a reputation as a party school (tho I think Miami definitely more than them).

Being built predominantly around preserved land, FGCU also has a big “eco-friendly” outlook. So lots of walking paths, a course called colloquium that all students have to take, and the one everyone dreads because you have to walk through the swamp for part of it. Lucky for Lance, he would have attended during the COVID years, and thus could avoid the swamp walk because all courses were virtual.

He’d probably be a member of Alpha Epsilon Pi, the Jewish fraternity on campus. They’re lowkey, but also kind of throw the best parties, off-campus of course because FGCU doesn’t have official fraternity or sorority housing. In this world Lance has definitely drank jungle juice from a trash can with a nozzle cut into the base. He is aware of the existence of “Saturdays are for the boys” flags, frat boy Lance is something that can be both repulsive and endearing.

He has a car, but most the time he opts to take his bike places. Fernando first runs into him when he’s in his bike gear actually, which, you know, hard to resist that. Plus, picture Fernando being Lance’s backpack. Please envision it, it’s a very important image. It’s definitely happened in this universe.

Strollonso beach dates??? Yeah, 100% happened here too. One of the reasons Lance even ends up at FGCU is because of the beach, so you know his ass is there most weekends. He forgets sunscreen frequently, Fernando is used to applying aloe to his back after they’ve spent a long day on the boat. He probably has that sunburned warmth to him like 24/7. He never forgets his sunglasses though, so he also maybe has raccoon eyes.

Oh yeah, and Logan, being a South Florida boy, probably would have attended FGCU too. His tinder profile unfortunately probably does feature a photo of him holding a fish. Just Florida boy things.

Anyway, this maybe is nothing. But if you want to talk more about this au please feel free to message me/send an ask. And I will 100% be ready to ramble more about this ultra specific fic. A chapter coming after keep to the line this weekend maybe.

#I have so much to say about this #literally I have notes upon notes that I’ve been building with my friends #we are so sure in another universe he went to fgcu #we know it in our bones #strollonso #strollonso fic #strollonso college au #lance stroll

[creedslove]

DAVE YORK AND YOUR PREGNANCY - HEADCANONS

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: hi besties! I'm glad to see you all coming down to ask box to talk about Dave because honestly, I think the world needs to recognize more of murder daddy and our Dave York apologists™ community needs to grow! Also, I sort of kept this headcanon here in my mind and I've also had a bug craving of female rivalry with our favorite person to hate: Carol, hehehe enjoy 😉

• it's not a secret to anyone the whole reason why Dave married Carol was because she got pregnant in the first place; they didn't love each other that much, but their relationship wasn't all bad, so when she showed up knocked up it was only the logical step to jump into marriage

• and it was already in the early stages of the pregnancy, Dave noticed the task wasn't going to be as easy as he thought it would, or more like it, it would be as easy to be around Carol as he thought it would. Quite the opposite, she managed to show her true colors as soon as it finally sank in she was indeed pregnant

• their relationship wasn't the best thing that'd ever happened to either of them, but at least they had an active social life, had a decent sexual life and other stuff going on, things weren't always miserable, but whatever kind of bond that could exist between them was suddenly gone, as she did everything in her power to keep Dave away from her

• first of all, all she would complain was about being nauseous, which is common for pregnant women Dave knew, he wasn't a man cave after all, although it started to annoy the hell outta him the fact she claimed to feel sick at the smell of his perfume, his aftershave, his shampoo, his clothes and eventually himself

• and then, it started with the fact that whenever he put his hands on her, she couldn't even hide his grossed out she was; she simply didn't want to feel him, she didn't want him cooking her food and whenever she had an outburst for gaining weight or looking bigger, she would cry, scream, accuse and pick fights blaming it on him for making her body

• and as the pregnancy progressed, so did this situation, it was so stressful and annoying, the way she would just waste money on things, complaining about cute, heartfelt presents she got because she said her baby didn't need anything given to them, she also complained about whatever Dave bought, it was never correct: it was either too pink or not pink enough and so on

• by the time their daughter was born, Dave was already exhausted, and even if he loved her with all his heart, it wasn't what he expected from fatherhood, deep down he feared she would be just like her mom one day - sad news, she turned out exactly like Carol

• and Dave carried on his marriage without the same flame, he was disappointed in the person he married, and when his second girl came along, the experience wasn't any better, but there wasn't anything he couldn't do about it

• so when Dave got divorced and married you, things were so different, he enjoyed how light and gentle your marriage truly was; he loved the good dynamics you both had; how caring and affectionate you were towards each other, how fun days were without a heavy routine, just doing as you pleased and spending time with each other

• things were so good between the two of you, and as Dave finally learned how to sort of balance the distance from his daughters - you still found him in his office staring at pictures of them as toddlers during special holidays at the same time he sighed whenever he tried calling or texting them and was completely ignored it just replied with dry, annoyed texts, was when you found out you were pregnant

• Dave was a mix of feelings, he knew it was a possibility, after all you two weren't so careful with preventing it, but he couldn't help feeling his heart drop, just to imagine he would lose that close side of your relationship because of his experiences as a father and he was so scared about resenting his baby over it, as much as he tried reminding himself he wasn't like his mother at all

• so when you came to him and told about your suspicions, he was supportive, but you could tell he was holding himself back, and knowing about his marriage background and the real drama he often went on with Molly and Alice, you could have a good picture of how complicated things were

• so he drove you to the drugstore, he bought tests next to you and he waited by your side until you got the results - positive, of course - the next day, he drove you to the clinic and waited as you went through every single exam that could attest if you were indeed expecting

• and as much as he held you, kissed you and showed happiness, you still saw something was off, deep in down, Dave's biggest fear was that he was going to lose you to the baby, because Carol wasn't a great partner but whatever he had with her, was gone, and he couldn't face the same happening between the two of you

• you then, gave him some time and space, knowing he had a mission coming in the next few days, you really thought of asking him not to go, but you knew you couldn't actually do it, so you just wished him a nice and safe trip and reminded him how much you loved him

• and once Dave came back was when he realized that perhaps things weren't going to be lost between the two of you, because yeah, he called every single day to check up on you and the baby, and he knew you'd started your nausea/hunger/sleepy phase so he figured once he got home, you would star drifting apart from him

• but much to his surprise, you didn't, quite the opposite: you practically jumped on him, because you wanted to hug and hold Dave in your arms, you wanted to feel his warmth and weight, and god, his scent simply drove you insane with desire and satisfaction

• you complimented his cologne, his shampoo, the scent of his clothes, soap, you name it... you just loved everything and you loved burying your face into his neck and sniffing him

• his pancakes were also to die for: it didn't matter if he made them sweet or tried different salty recipes, if it was breakfast or just breakfast for dinner, you loved spending time with him and appreciating his food, and you also thanked him for adding fruits and many other healthy things into your diet

• your sex life also improved, with differences of course, mostly, Dave wouldn't be so rough, he was more romantic and soft towards you and there was no stress: you wanted him as much as he wanted you, the hormones, the passion, the romance was all in synch and even if you eventually got a little insecure about your body changes, there weren't cries, arguments, all it took the two of you was just some reassurance from Dave's side, the way he would sometimes hold you in front of a mirror and grab your lotion and spread all over your skin, or how he would nuzzled your neck and whisper into your ear how sexy you were becoming or even when he would bury himself between your thighs until you couldn't handle it anymore, was enough to settle things

• over the course of your pregnancy, Dave realized your bond was stronger than never, because you two were very much in love, you were expecting a child Dave already loved so much without the fear of this baby growing into an obnoxious child like it happened before

• the fact he was going to have a little boy after two girls was also pretty exciting for him, as he figured it would be somehow easier and he kind of had hopes to fix his own traumas by being a kind father to a boy, knowing what a boy needed as growing up

• he loved how happy and careful you were with everything you got as a gift for the baby: baby shoes, clothes, onesies, you were so thankful for people's kindness to gift your baby, never trash-talking anything you got and also thanking Dave for the gifts

• he realized you were both more united, not working against each other with a baby in the middle, but instead, working together in order to raise that precious little thing you two loved so much and it showed him a real meaning of family to him

• you two were meant to be, your baby was loved by the two of you with all your hearts and you couldn't want another life, things were good and the Yorks were finally happy the way they deserved to be ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x y/n #dave york fanfiction #dave york fanfic #dave york headcanon #dave york headcanons

[katewritesthings]

Learning to Deal

So, I've never written fic before, so please be kind. I've had to drink a bottle of wine to finish the smut and gain the courage to post. Please be funny when you tell me this sucks. :D (I also have ideas for a few more short blurbs in this universe)

•pairing: Joe Burrow x Original Female Character

•summary: Caroline Stevens had been known to the fans of the Bengals' as Sam Hubbard's best friend since he got drafted. Now she's dating his teammate Joe Burrow and must navigate the logistics that come with that

•word count: 4.3k

•warnings: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. Slight angst. Angry Sex. Dom/Sub dynamics. Slight Daddy Kink. Light choking. Ass smacking. Cursing. Drinking. Cannabis Use. Lots of other stuff. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Caroline Steven was sure she’d never get used to how overwhelming being a plus one to an NFL starter could be. Since her childhood best friend, Sam, had been drafted by their hometown football team, she’d attended her fair share of over-the-top events with budgets bigger than her teaching salary. (That is, when Sam happened to be single and his mother was not an appropriate option.) This routine would be coming to an end shortly, though.

Over the last year, Caroline had started seeing one of Sam’s teammates, Joe. Meaning that the next time they walked into a jungle-themed room, she would be on the arm of the man she wanted to walk in with, and Sam would not be hindered in attempting to fix his single status. (at least for the night).

Although he was one of the most private (read: shy) people Caroline had ever met, Joe somehow managed to become the face of the Bengals. Seriously, the guy was so closed off when she first met him that Caroline was convinced Joe hated her. It wasn’t that Caroline disliked the fact that her boyfriend was charismatic enough to become a franchise player; she just hated the legalities that came with it. 

It would only take the entire next Monday arguing with the agents and publicists that the NFL and Bengals put together to officially be Dating Joe Burrow™. Caroline was more than ready to be able to claim the beautiful man she grew to love as her boyfriend, but she knew that Joe was a little more hesitant about what compromises they were going to have to make as a couple to get this approved through the league. There were whispers about using their anniversary to make sponsored posts already.

Walking into the banquet hall the Bengals had rented at Moerlein Lager House, Caroline scanned the room for her boyfriend. While they had texted a few times throughout the day, their conversation before Joe dropped her off yesterday had been acting… off. Joe seemed a little put off about having to use his personal life for marketing, but Caroline hoped he saw her as worth it. The two made their way to a table to the left of the entrance, where champagne flutes were set out for guests to take. 

“Calm down, Stevie." Sam’s voice brought her back to reality, using her childhood nickname. “I really don’t think Danny Devito is here; there’s no need for such excitement.” “You’re such a goober!” Caroline chuckled, pushing a stray auburn curl out of her eyes. “I just wanted to see if I could see Joe. You act like it wasn’t you who set us up, don’t act like you’re annoyed with how we act together.” 

Before Sam could spit a comeback at Caroline, two arms wrapped around her middle and squeezed her tight. Joe’s deep voice boomed, “Hey, babe," before kissing her on the cheek and greeting Sam. Ja’Marr, Irv, and Tee. joined the three, drinks in hand. Greetings were exchanged before Ja’Marr nudged Caroline.

“Damn, girl. I didn’t know your Ms. Frizzle ass had dresses that didn’t have dinosaurs and shit on them.” With an eye-roll, Caroline pulled at the hem of her black dress, trying to make it come farther down than the upper thigh. She was far more comfortable in her themed dresses and cardigans, which helped engage her second-grade students. “I didn’t know you had that much skin; I almost thought your legs was made of cloth like some stuffed animal.”

Before Caroline could laugh at Ja’Marr’s roast, she heard Joe’s laugh, and his grip tightened on her hip. “Don’t be mad, Ja’Marr. You’ve just been salty that I’m the one she chose to know how much skin she has and how to stuff her.”

At that moment,t the various reactions rang through the group. Tee and Irv sent a chorus of “oooohs” to the circle of six. Caroline nearly choked on her drink and sent a look of confusion and panic to Sam, who responded with a chuckle and a “Well, this got weird. This is my signal to leave.”

Caroline turned out the remaining four men, making fun of Sam for running away when sexual topics came up while her mind raced with thoughts. Caroline shifted in her spot, tugging at her dress again. 

Joe seemed to notice Caroline zoning out because a whisper in her ear brought her back to reality. “I’m sorry, Caro. It came out before I could think. I had two drinks before you got here; I'm so sorry.” Tee, Irv, and Ja’Marr were still in conversation, now about the chances Sam would find enough alcohol and a girl to make him warm up to the sexual topics tonight.

Caroline let out a sigh and excused her and Joe from the group. She led them to a corner near a window overlooking Great American Ball Park and a partial view of the river. “You’re forgiven, Joe. You know, I just hate when you get vulgar.” “I completely understand. You’re not a piece of meat. I promise I’ll only brag about our fantastic sex life and your crazy body when you start the conversation.”

 Caroline leaned even farther on her tiptoes than her heels assisted, and kissed Joe on the chin. “That’s all I ask, baby.”

—

Ironically enough, Joe and Caroline had that conversation at the beginning of the night because, at present, the couple currently found themselves in a small group of Bengals and some of their plus ones from the party, playing a drinking game that required the player to answer the question on the card drawn or drink. The night had gone smoothly after the small speed bump that happened when Caroline arrived, so she found herself relaxing into Joe’s side, enjoying the early morning hours.

A small group of Joe and his teammates had decided that after a season of abstaining from partying as hard as they wanted, they’d continue the celebration in the suite Ja’Marr and Joe had previously booked in a nearby hotel. Something had told them they would be too incapacitated to drive and would want to celebrate as late as possible.

“Oooo! My turn! I pick... Joe!” Irv’s little sister Rachel, exclaimed to the circle. Her words were slurred from the mix of whiskey and weed she had been ingesting, but the entertainment was evident in her voice. It was obvious she was enjoying the usually serious men lose themselves in fits of giggles when another teammate admitted something embarrassing.

“What’s the most amount of people you’ve hooked up with in a night?”

“Three,” Joe mumbled, not picking up his drink. 

Caroline sucked in a breath. She knew this, while they didn’t quite know everything about each other yet, she and Joe had talked a lot in the time of their relationship. Early on, though, they found out that their sexual and romantic history was best left on an “ask-only” basis. Caroline knew herself better than to have Joe tell her everything at once. After his last long-term relationship ended, she watched from afar as he numbed himself in ways she didn’t even want to think about. She knew it was best for herself if she only found out what she needed to know and she believed that included whether or not she would be in the same room with one of Joe’s random hookups. Joe seemed to share the same mentality because he had only ever asked her vague questions. 

Next was Irv’s turn to pick a person to interrogate and a card. He scanned the group and chose Sam. His voice filled the air, reading from the card, “What was your most embarrassing sexual experience? Describe what you remember in detail.” “Fuck off, it does not say that!” Sam protested across the table from Caroline. “I’m afraid it does, Sammy boy,” Irv laughed back, waiting for Sam’s embarrassment. Caroline’s eyes shut as she laughed at her best friend’s discomfort. This situation was so much funnier to her than the one earlier in the night. Caroline wasn’t sure if it was because there was some light ribbing going on, the presence of women, and a game that was about bonding, gave her comfort in a way that was not present when it was just Caroline and 5 men.

 “Well, I guess when I was like 16… uh…. The girl I lost my virginity to…,” Sam stuttered. Caroline’s eyes instantly opened. She knew this story. She had figured in 10 years and a professional sports career later, he would have more embarrassing memories. “Well, uh… We had decided that maybe we would try mouth stuff, y’know. Well, uhh. St-she went down on me for the first time and uh.. .she vomited on me.” Sam stuttered through the whole beginning of the story while everyone else was gasping for air through their laughs. “You got puked on?!” T.B. said through howls. 

“Well, that’s not all.. We both made so much noise when my lap got covered. Ma-her brother came bursting through her bedroom door, and, uh.. he caught us.” Caroline shifted in her weight and faintly joined in the echoing laughter. Joe looked at her with a quizzical look and took another hit of the blunt being passed around. Joe wasn’t usually much of a partier, but the Bengals had put up a hell of a fight this season and it looked like her boyfriend was damn sure goign to celebrate it.. He had slowed down on his drinking after embarrassing himself earlier in the night, but Caroline had seen him with a honey-flavored backwood and at least two different rolled swishers throughout the night.

Before Joe could make anything of it, Sam’s name pulled him out of his thoughts to see Tee’s placing a card on the table. It was Caroline’s turn and she was answering telling the most legal trouble she had ever been in.

“So, basically, Sam had gone to practice and I woke up before he did. I went down to the kitchen in his house and two of his roommates were talking about me over breakfast. They were basically saying the most vile things you could think of and it only got more vulgar once they saw me. I threw a cast iron skillet at one of them and was banned from OSU’s campus.” She had shared this secret with Joe a few weeks into seeing each other. He had heard a vague version when Sam moved out of his house midseason. Caroline filled him in on the details after they were together to let him know why she was so sensitive about being in ceratin situations.

The card game continued for another ten minutes before some member of the group suggested they play ‘Never Have I Ever.’ This time, Caroline caught the look Joe sent her as she filled her glass to get ready to play. “You’re sure you’re okay with this? They’re going to get even more raunchy.”

Caroline licked her lips before forming them into a smile. “I’m fine, Joey. I’m having fun, I promise. And if I get uncomfortable, we can always say one of us is tired. Just squeeze my hip twice.”

Rachel explained the modified “late night, here to get fucked up” rules. They’d go around the circle and each person would say something they had never done. Every person has five fingers up and puts a finger down and takes a drink for every time they’ve done what someone else hasn’t. Once all five fingers are down, the person chugs their drink and is out.

The rules seemed easy enough and before long the game was on and laughs filled the air. Caroline wasn’t really paying attention to who had done what. Except Joe. She knew she shouldn’t, but this was a loophole in learning things about him, and without all the details. So far the score had gone as follows:

“Had sex in a football field” - Joe drank. Caroline drank. “Ever made out with someone of the same sex” Joe didn’t drink. Caroline drank. (Joe winked at her) “Cheated on someone” Joe drank. Caroline didn’t drink. “Been cheated on.” Both drank. “Broken a bone.” Both drank.

The group was in good humor, consistently whooping at Caroline when she had admitted she did something. Rachel had changed gears from trying to get everyone’s dirty secrets to just getting Caroline out, picking topics for her and Irv that they had known would get her out.

They were both down to their last finger and Caroline was starting to get drowsy. She had drunk quite a few times during this game and had been tipsy before. Maybe if she were more sober, she would have realized one of the two things happening within the next moment. Rachel gave Caroline a jokingly competitive stare before mouthing you’re going down.

“Never have I ever fucked someone in this room.”

Being the level of intoxicated she was, Caroline didn’t realize that an odd number of people in the room put their fingers down and took a swig of their drink. She also didn’t realize that, while Joe was intoxicated, he was mainly high which caused his mind to work in overdrive. This meant that Joe had noticed that there was an odd number of people who put their fingers down in the room.

Caroline had her cup tipped to the ceiling and was almost to the bottom of it when she felt two distinct squeezes on her hip and her boyfriend growling her name barely loud enough for her to hear. Her mind started racing at what Joe could.

“Actually guys, I’m feeling a little past my limit and am probably going to lay down. Caroline, care to join?” Joe’s strained voice came through his tightly clenched jaw. Caroline followed Joe as he stood up and made his way down the hallway of the suite toward their bedroom.

“Are you feeling okay, Joe?” The question hung between them while Joe fumbled with the keycard and the door handle. Caroline tried to not let her mind race too much as she replayed the last three minutes in her head. If anything, she should be the one a little upset in her opinion. Joe had admitted to cheating on someone in the past, and although she knew of the incidents, she couldn’t fathom why admitting she had sex with Joe would set him off so much.

A low grumble she couldn’t make out brought her out of her thoughts as Joe ushered her through the door.

“Please?” Caroline questioned, indicating to Joe to repeat what he said. “Why didn’t you tell me you fucked him?” Joe demanded again, this time loud enough for the redhead to hear. She was standing a the foot of the bed while Joe still had his hand on the deadbolt. “Uhm, what and who are we talking about again?” Caroline nervously laughed, attempting to put the pieces of the puzzle together in her head. It hit her the same time Joe’s steeled blue eyes met her brown ones and he repeated the question. “Why didn’t you tell me you fucked Sam?” the third time the question was presented to Caroline, frustration and anger overtook her drunken state. “What in the world are you talking about, Joe? When I told you I didn’t need to know details of your sex life you told me the same?” Caroline was confused. She never intentionally kept anything from her boyfriend. 

“I did ask. The first time we hooked up,” Joe’s voice came out strained. He had moved towards the middle of the large room. All Caroline wanted to do was crawl in the large bed directly in front of her and cuddle her boyfriend. This night definitely took multiple turns. “You did not! You asked me if you were the first professional athlete I had gone down on.” Caroline was exasperated now. She didn’t want Joe to think she was lying.

Caroline walked into the bathroom for a chance to break Joe’s gaze. When she reached the mirror she began taking the pins out of her curls. “And I very clearly heard the story of the first time you had that experience tonight, with our mutual best friend, Caro.” Joe loosened his tie as he emphasized the last few words of his sentence. He was angrier than Caroline had ever seen him off the field and she hated that it was because of her. 

The redhead turned her body to face the door where her boyfriend stood. Even when angry, the man was beautiful. Brown waves fell onto his face nose and cheeks red from a mixture of intoxication and anger. He had his button-up undone to his sternum and was working on taking off his belt.

“And I had told you that story when Matthew asked if you knew how to use a lock! I told you he walked in on me in high school and you cut me off. Plus, that happened well before Sam was drafted, therefore not a pro athlete. I thought you were asking if I was a groupie trying to add another to the list.” “I genuinely thought you knew babe,” she said from in front of the mirror, her eyes taking in Joe. He had leaned against the doorway and was watching her in a manner that made her unsure of what he was thinking. Usually, communication was easy between them. Disagreements never lasted long because even if they had conflicting feelings on a subject, they were both willing to hear it from the other’s perspective to attempt to understand.

Caroline unfastened the back of the earrings she was wearing and placed them down in the travel jewelry box she had placed on the counter earlier in the evening. “I told you about how I was a nerdy ginger in high school and had to make a mutual agreement to lose my virginity to my best friend. You didn’t want to know who”

Joe took a deep breath and rubbed his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “I guess, I didn’t think it was Sam. You guys went to different schools.”

“That’s cute that you thought high school Stevie could’ve gotten the attention of a boy besides Sam.” Caroline made the joke, hoping to lighten the mood. It didn't.

“He went to an all-boys school, and everyone in my school was repulsed by me, so we made a pact to keep up with the Joneses, so to speak. When everyone in middle school was talking about making out, we didn’t want to feel left out, and that sort of just progressed on to other things…”

“Do you have feelings for him?” Joe’s eyes flickered with a flash of emotion as he cut her off, clearly not wanting to hear the details. “Oh my God. Absolutely not in the way you’re asking.” Caroline’s brown eyes made sure to keep eye contact with Joe’s blue ones, she wasn’t going to be the first to look away. “It was really just experimenting, Joe.” “When was the last time? Did I know you?” Joe questioned, anger still seeping through his voice. Caroline felt a lump grow in her throat when she thought back to the last time she and Sam had hooked up, or at least attempted to. It was during her and Sam’s sophomore year in college and he had invited her up to visit him at Ohio State. “It was the day we met. At Ohio State.” Caroline uttered. Sam had insisted on taking her to Woody’s, the on-campus tavern, to meet with some of the second-string freshmen. Joe barely said hello to her, before returning his attention to the playbook in front of him. The room was silent for a minute before Joe broke their eye contact, standing up straight. Rubbing his fingers against his lip again, he turned his head to the side. “Fuck, Caro.  I just hate that he’s had what’s mine.” Before Caroline could get out the words, ‘What’s yours?’” Joe closed the few steps between the two. 

“Yes, Caroline. You’re mine.” His proximity to Caroline caused her back to turn flush against the counter. “And tonight I’m going to mark my territory.”

A warm feeling of realization washed over Caroline when she realized what Joe meant. Or maybe it was horniness. Because at that very moment, his hand wrapped around Caro’s throat and bucked his hips into hers.

A moan of agreement left Caroline’s plump maroon lips, causing Joe to growl. “That’s right, baby. I’m going to take what’s mine. But first, on your knees.”

Excitement sent of chill throughout Caroline’s body. She liked it when Joe was dominantt, but it rarely ever happened without her explicitly asking for it. What can she say, the man was all about her gratification by default. 

Before her knees even made contact with the cold tile, Joe’s cock was out and hitting her in the face. A smile spread across her face before she opened her mouth and gave a lick to the head. Caroline still had her tongue out and she worked her mouth down Joe’s shaft. When the head hit the back of her throat, she closed her lips and wiggled her tongue. 

“That’s right, baby,” Joe smirked, raking his hands through the auburn curls at his pelvis. Caroline brought a hand up to cup his balls, retracting her tongue and beginning to move her back and forth. “Fuck.” Joe bucked his hips into his girlfriend’s mouth, causing her to gag a bit. “Gag on Daddy’s cock, that’s right.” He demanded, causing Caroline to loosen her jaw and attempt to take the rough fucking her face was receiving. That was new.

After a few moments filled with slurps and moans, Joe finally spoke again. “Get up. Turn around.” Joe’s voice was still gruff with anger, but possesiveness and lust had also joined in. If Caroline hadn’t already been wet from the worship Joe had just demanded from her, she would’ve been after Joe gave her ass a smack and returned his left hand to her throat. They made eye contact in the mirror in front of them.

“After tonight, there’s going to be no doubt you’re mine last.” Joe leaned in and whispered into her ear. His right hand busied itself tugging down the thong she had under her dress. Caroline lifted her leg slightly to step out of the thin material, Joe took this as his opportunity to line up the head of his dick with the slick of her pussy.

The tip of his dick entered her warmth and he whispered, “My girlfriend,” as he slammed his entire length into her. White pleasure tore through Caroline’s pelvis when this happened. Joe was not small, and feeling him push his entire length into her gave her a sense of fullness that she craved.

Pulling out slowly, his eye contact never wavered from Caroline’s. “On MY arm for events.” He thrust into her again, then pulled out even slower causing a whimper to escape Caroline’s smudged lips. “Mine,” Joe repeated, burying himself to the hilt again. “Any objections?” Caroline shook her head, making sure to keep her brown eyes locked on Joe’s blue ones. She wanted to see his reaction.

“No, sir.”

And she was glad she did. Joe’s eyes somehow got even darker with lust as his right hand pushed her back down, so her chest was flat on the counter and his left found her throat again. The marble dug into her thighs, but at this point, the pain was mixing with the pleasure, Joe thrusting aggressively into her.

Caroline couldn’t make out the chain of expletives leaving Joe’s mouth as she began to feel the intense pleasure building inside her. “I’m so close, Daddy,” she whined, trying on the new title Joe had given himself earlier. “I wanna come on your cock so bad.” If Caroline thought Joe lost himself in lust earlier, she was wrong. He let out a guttural moan and stood Caroline back up again, without removing the hand from her throat. He moved his hand from her back to her clit. He used his long fingers to work circular motions on the sensitive nerves until Caroline lost herself to her pleasure and began twitching lightly. She wasn’t sure if she was actually moaning or just imagining it until Joe’s voice coached her through her orgasm. “I know, darling,” He planted a kiss on her head. “I know, you’re doing such a good job, just breathe.” He peppered more kisses over the top of her head before he moaned again. “I’m going to come, babe. Get on your knees and open your mouth.” Caroline did as she was told, quickly. She wasn’t going to give Joe a reason to question whether she liked this side of him or not. Joe pumped his fist around his dick twice before warm ropes came shooting towards Caroline, most of it making it in her mouth, a little on her lips and chin. She took Joe’s thumb and wiped the excess, before making eye contact and engulfing it in her mouth. After swirling her tongue around Joe’s thumb a few times, she swallowed. She set her lips in an ‘O’ to show off her newly empty mouth to Joe. “Fuck, Caro. You’re going to be the death of me,” Joe said laughing, his cheeks flushed. He patted his girlfriend's head before saying, “Now go clean up so we can go to sleep. I need you to get some rest before I wake you up.” “Oh, yeah?,” Caroline cocked an eyebrow, still on the ground. Her thighs were starting to ache from never taking off her heels. “Yeah, I’m going to fill you with cum and then we’re going to go eat brunch with the rest of the suite,” Joe said, sternness still in his voice.

Caroline stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was a rat’s nest, she thought about how this was the happiest she had ever been. Though, she was certain if she continued finding and loving new sides of Joe, it wasn’t the happiest she would ever be.

#joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joey b #joe shiesty #joe brr #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow smut #joe burrow angst #joe burrow established relationship #plz forgive me #i'm drunk

[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | vol iv | vol v ]

firstprince fic recs: hurt/comfort edition! :D

some of these have more angst than others before the comfort, so please be sure to check the tags! but I tried to choose some of my personal favorites that I always return to when I need something comforting to read <3

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

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talk me down | seafloor | G | 2k

It never gets easier, but with Alex, it’s less exhausting. [Henry gets triggered, and Alex is there for him.]

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Mr. Body Pillow | @inexplicablymine | T+ | 21k

Two boys cuddling on a couch right on top of each other because they are in fact very gay™. Inviting over a complete stranger for cuddles because you are touch starved might be the worst idea Henry has ever had, or the best.

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the clementine thing | @saintlynomenclature | T+ | 6k

And, really, it doesn’t matter whether or not Alex explains it to Liam and the rest of his friends. They’ve never really discussed it between themselves through the years. Slowly, Alex had gone from asking Would you please peel this for me? to Please? to silently extending the citrus without any comment at all, just a soft smile. It’s one of the things that make them Alex-and-Henry; the silent conversations and the contentment in each other’s company. Now, as Alex starts to flourish through his position on the lacrosse team, his slew of AP classes, and his role in student government, getting him to slow down at all is a feat. The only way that Henry can do it, guaranteed, is by one of those innocuous little fruits. There’s nothing Alex can’t do—surely, he could peel a fucking orange if he felt so inclined—but Henry delights in being able to do this for him. [Five times Henry shares a clementine with Alex, and one time Alex returns the favor]

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sea of endless hope | acastle | E | 85k

Henry watches Alex, the man he adores and loves so ardently, and the moment is palpable, delicate, and yet too large for even the sky to contain. He watches Alex, and in that moment, he wants to be his husband, the ache and urge of it almost unbearable. “Daddy!” Nena takes Henry’s hands, and he looks down at her, the angel who had saved him, and he smiles at her, quiet with emotion, letting her lead him into place. He would follow her, follow Alex, anywhere. (Henry, Alex, and their daughter, and the first years of coming home, forever.)

you can see it with the lights out | weathersriley | G | 3k

Alex thinks of the water. Of feeling like he might never reach the surface, might never reach Henry. But Henry is here; Alex remembers falling asleep in the glow of his presence, and beneath his shaking fingers, Henry’s chest is warm and his heart is beating steadily and Henry is here. Alex is afraid, but Henry is here.

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I ask you how you're doing (and I let you lie) | @matherines | M | 6k

The first time Henry sees it happen, he knows instantly that it is not the first time it has ever happened. They’re sitting in the living room of the brownstone, the two of them surrounded by their favorite people in the world, a night of board games long abandoned in favor of mocking the eighth season of Game of Thrones. “God, don’t you have an off switch?” June groans, laughing as she chucks a piece of popcorn in Alex’s direction while he rambles passionately about the international legal implications of the Red Wedding. Nora cackles. “Whatever you do to thank Henry for putting up with you, it’s not nearly enough. Jesus, I can’t believe he put a ring on your loud mouth.” [Or: Alex is fine. Really, he’s fine — he just wants Henry to stay, even if Alex is too much. Henry just wants his husband back.]

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Aftercare | @whimsymanaged | M | 2k

When Alex has an intense hookup without aftercare, he finds himself on his best friend Henry’s doorstep in desperate need of looking after.

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Dream a Little Dream of Me | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 9k

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” [Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)]

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Burnt Offering | justicefortheJ14magazine | G | 9k

Alex’s hair care routine is elaborate, he struggles to let Henry help him, and he learns some important things about receiving love through service. [A look at FirstPrince’s love through each love language: Acts of Service]

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I would stay forever (if you say don't go) | @coffeecatsme | T+ | 6k

The words echo in his head, unbidden. The words from another life, practically another universe, shoved inside the small walls of a gilded cage, hidden in a room in London with shuttered windows and locked doors. A boy’s voice Henry still remembers ten years later, when he doesn’t quite remember what he had for lunch the day before. A boy’s voice on a phone that understood him better than every member of his family, even an ocean, a continent, three thousand miles away. A boy’s voice that told him in no uncertain terms that it was okay if he wasn’t okay, that allowed him to pave a path until he was. To open a new shelter in New York City, Henry needs to interview a host of potential lawyers to hire. He doesn't expect one of them to be the boy that saved his life ten years ago.

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Don't Give Up Your Ghost | @nocoastposts | G | 1k

Healing is not linear.   When Henry first heard this phrase, he brushed it off as a cliche. An evergreen proverb for those who didn’t know what else to say. As his anger morphed into crippling sadness, he began to understand the sentiment. Henry never knows when the grief will become all-consuming. A perfectly fine day can shatter instantly, with no preamble or warning given. The most trivial things - a scent, a laugh, a song - can utterly and completely devour him. Learning to accept the ebb and flow was not easy. He knows that the dark days will never cease completely. He also knows that Alex will brave the storm with him, time and time again. Henry is eternally grateful for this. [Or, Henry reflects on some common platitudes of grief - then and now.]

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outta luck to spend | potentiallyunloveable | T+ | 9k

“Nora ignorin’ ya?” a voice says from beside him, and Henry startles, turns to his left, is suddenly frozen. The man who’s slid into the seat next to him, silently, without Henry noticing, is quite possibly the most beautiful man Henry’s ever seen in his life. He’s got the widest smile, sweet dimples, soft brown skin and impossibly long eyelashes. He’s wearing a fucking Stetson, and Henry feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. Or: Henry (lost, hopeless) meets Alex (bright, hopeful), in a bar in Texas.

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thunderstruck | @wordsofhoneydew | T+ | 2k

“Alex, slow down.” Henry pulls away softly from Alex’s taut grasp. “Are you feeling alright now?” “Y-yeah, I think I’m okay.” Alex smiles back meekly at Henry’s heedful gaze. Alex feels like he has gotten way ahead of himself. “I'm just a huge astraphobic, ever since I was little. I guess I never grew out of it.” [or, Alex has a fear of thunder so Henry comforts him]

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fell apart (in the usual way) | @hypnostheory | E | 12k

By the time they’ve reached the landing, Henry is shaking his arm out of Alex’s grip. “The picture of grace under fire,” he says, the words snapping from his mouth. Alex blinks at him, before his face smooths into its professional mask. “You can’t pick a fight with the Queen’s equerry, no matter how averse you are to the concept of the monarchy.” Alex looks Henry up at down, his mouth forming a tight line. “I don’t pick fights, Your Majesty,” he says, adjusting his grip on Henry’s suitcase. Henry can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement. “Shaan called me a few weeks ago to go over every single thing that made you miserable about the holidays. It was a very long phone call.” Henry doesn’t doubt that. “I’m going to help you avoid as many of those items as possible.” [Henry is a mess around the holidays, and he's expecting to have a tremendously horrid time without Shaan. Fortunately, Alex has plans to make his Christmas both merry and bright.]

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ocean waves | seafloor | E | 10k

Henry Fox wakes up with a toothache one morning, and has a lot of feelings about certain things for days afterwards.

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I'd hold you as the water rushes in | @saintlynomenclature | M | 11k

“—lex. Alex.” Fuck. Where had his mind gone? Alex snaps his eyes to Henry’s, forcing his attention back from where it had drifted. “I’m listening, I’m listening. What were you saying?” Anyone else would probably be offended, or would just laugh at the clearly conflicting statements that had flown thoughtlessly out of his mouth. Instead, Henry’s brow crinkles, lips downturning as he scans Alex’s face. “Are you alright? You’ve been acting strange all night.” Those blue eyes are much easier to deal with through FaceTime. Alex has to look away from them, less he caves and spills everything to Henry. He pastes a smile on, “Fantastic, Your Highness. All this bubbly is going to my head, the sugar’ll get me in the morning.” [Or, Alex drops on New Year's Eve]

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never be so polite (you forget your power) | Standinginmoonlight | M | 6k

The one where Arthur Fox leaves letters for his children.

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while you were sleeping (I fell in love) | @kill8a | M | 3k

As their relationship progresses, Alex notices that Henry’s sleeping habits start to progress as well. Notably, more naps, less insomnia, and a knack for falling asleep at any hour of the day.

+

that's all for now!

hurt/comfort is one of my all time favorite tropes, so feel free to rec me some if they aren't on this list, or to reach out with ideas for other rec lists in the future! <3

-- sarah / anincompletelist xx

#fic recs #my fic recs #rwrb #firstprince #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic recs #red white and royal blue fanfic #Alex x Henry

[shera-dnd]

Once again trying to talk about Themes™ and probably just saying the obvious again BUT

Baldur's Gate 3 is a game about freedom of choice, both mechanically and thematically

Not in the "Your choices matter! (not really)" way most game market themselves on

But in a "The fact you can choose matters" way that is much spicier.

Like that's literally the core driving point of the plot. You shouldn't be able to choose, you shouldn't be free, but you are and now it's up to you to fight to maintain that freedom, and decide for yourself what to do with it

(funnily enough this is also why this game doesn't hit my trigger, because all the mind control is completely opt in)

And every single companion reinforces that in one way or another.

Gale freeing himself from his past and choosing who he wants to be now, without Mystra.

Astarion killing Cazador and stopping generations of abuse in their vampiric line

Karlach escaping Zariel and choosing to make the most of the life she still has

Wyll breaking his contract with Mizora so he can choose for himself what he fights for

Lae'zel and Shadowheart both unlearning years of indoctrination at the hands of their messed up cults

And if you're playing Dark Urge you get to reinforce this again with your conflict about trying to determine for yourself who you want to be, when every fiber of your being demands that you be a monster

It's not even just the main characters. Like how often do you get sent on quests to free people who have been imprisoned or enslaved.

Volo, Halsin, the deep gnomes, the tieflings, Aylin, Volo again, Minsc, Orpheus, even Hope itself

Hell, one of the main bad guys is the chosen champion of the God of Tyranny and is using a magical mind control mcguffin to control a giant magical mind control GIGA BRAIN!

I guess that's why it feels so obvious. Every last bit of this game is used to forward this theme of freedom vs control, but it's this consistent reinforcement that makes it so good for me

And then of course this all comes to a grand conclusion towards the ending. My own feelings about the ending's execution and the parts I felt were a bit... lackluster, can wait for a different day

But thematically speaking they managed to end with a real bang, and it's all thanks to the narration

Because whatever decision you make, that woman sells it. No matter what you want your ending to be, she will fucking deliver it in just as triumphant a way as any other

BG3 doesn't want you to leave the game thinking "did I make the right choice?" it wants you to feel like whatever you choose WAS the right choice for you

I literally had my character turn into a squid and them kill themself and she still managed to make that a glorious moment to finalize my story on.

"After so many deaths in the name of your father, this one is just for you"

(god so many lines from the durge playthrough have my brain in a vice grip)

And speaking of daddy dearest, the only endings that come across as being bad, are the ones where you surrender your freedom.

When you surrender to the Absolute, when you do as Bhaal commands you, when you give the crown to Raphael

The entire game is one giant conflict between your freedom to self determine vs more powerful beings and their drive to take absolute control

And so the only way for your story to end "badly" is if you surrender to those powers and give up

...so yeah... that's all I got

Baldur's Gate 3 is a good game

Could use some work here and there, and my nitpicks could make their own needlessly long post, but it's still really good

Go play it

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don't Take My Sunshine Away, Part III

Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part III 

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Sunshine) 

Fandom: The Gray Man 

Word Count: 3K 

Series Summary: You lived your life on a schedule. Everything is planned out from sunrise to sunset. But what happens when you go out on a limb and out of your comfort zone? Will it have dire consequences? 

Chapter Summary: Lloyd defends your honor and tells you a bedtime story. 

Warnings: Murder Daddy™, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering (f receiving), clit spanking, a splash of somnophilia, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mentions of murder, mention of stalking, Stockholm Syndrome 

A/N: So, this part took a little longer, but we are right on schedule. Hope you enjoy it! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics  

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me 

Spotify Playlist is here. 

Series Masterlist 

My Masterlist 

You spend most of the day with Sir in his office. Men flood in now and then to speak with him. No doubt surprised by your presence but smart enough not to mention it. For the most part anyway. 

Then there’s the poor bastard that couldn’t stop staring at you in the evening briefing. He had the nerve to turn his entire head in your direction while you lounged on one of the couches. You were engrossed in American Psycho, caught in the intricate web that Bret Easton Ellis wove. 

You had just made it to the point where Patrick is recalling how he corrected Stash using the word cappuccino instead of carpaccio when you feel the weight of eyes on you. You assume Lloyd is the perpetrator, but you’re surprised when you glance at him and see that he’s looking elsewhere.  

Your eyes skim over the men in the room and notice a set of bright green eyes raking over your body. You quickly rise from your position on your belly, dropping your book in the process. The clatter alerted everyone in the room to look at you. 

“Sunshine? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of—” Lloyd stops in his tracks when you stand and walk behind him to block the man’s view from you. You whisper in his ear so that the other men can’t hear and Lloyd nods, motioning for you to sit in the desk chair. 

As you move around the desk, Lloyd puts his hands in his pockets and sighs.  

“I guess I wasn’t clear about this, but this lovely little gem behind me is Sunshine. Sunshine belongs to me. I didn’t bring her here to be the object of your lecherous eyes,” He turns to where you sit and winks at you before addressing the men again, “Now, Price, you’ve only been with me for, what? Few weeks or so?” He sits on the edge of the desk, one hand on his knee. 

“Yes, Sir.” The green-eyed deviant has the presence of mind to answer formally rather than just nodding.  

“Right. So, you’ve been around long enough to know I’m not exactly the sharing type. When something is mine, it’s mine alone. But you decided to stare at my girl like she was here for your entertainment or something—”  

“Sir, I swear I wasn’t trying to—”  

A barrage of bullets cuts through the apology that Price tries to give, too little too late. Sir stands over his corpse and spits at him, “I was talking, you piece of shit!” 

He gives the gun back to the man he took it from, coming back to sit on the edge of the desk. You can see the blood spatter on his face, neck, and shirt. 

“Does anyone else wanna make me kill them?” He looks around at all the faces in the room, “Good. Dismissed. Get the fuck out. And take this asshole with you.” 

After the men leave, dragging the dead man behind them, you rise from the desk chair and walk around to stand in front of Sir. You couldn’t stop yourself from wiping your thumb across the blood drop on his cheekbone. As it smears into his skin instead of wiping it away, you look into Sir’s eyes. 

His hand comes up to your wrist and he tilts his head down a fraction, that asshole smirk painting itself on his face. “Just a little blood, Sunshine. Nothing to be afraid of.” 

“I’m not afraid of it, I just...you...killed that man because he looked at me. I mean, yeah, I felt weird, but I...didn’t think you’d kill him.” You feel his thumb on your pulse point, lightly pressing into your skin. 

“If you didn’t want me to kill him, why’s your heart beating so fast?” Sir narrows his eyes at you, and you can feel the weight of his stare. “Because it looks like my little Sunshine liked that I defended her honor.”  

He lets go of your wrist and lightly taps your chin. Letting his hand glide down your body until it escapes into the slit of your dress, he cups your sex and it radiates heat into his palm. His middle finger presses upward and between your folds to find your warm nectar leaking from your snatch. He fully coats his finger, pulling his hand out from under your dress. “Open your mouth, Sunshine.” 

You do as you’re told, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Sir lays his finger on your tongue, and you close your lips over it. You treat his thick digit like a popsicle, cleaning it off with your tongue while sucking it. You like the taste of yourself on Sir’s finger, sweet and tangy notes dance across your tastebuds. 

A sharp sucking noise fills the room as Sir pulls his finger out of your mouth, replacing it with his lips to kiss you deeply. His tongue chases yours in a scramble to taste your sweet pussy juice. His hands find your hips and pull you close, and you can feel how excited he is. His weighty erection pushes against his chinos. 

Sir breaks the kiss first, resting his forehead against yours. “Fuck, you taste fucking phenomenal. Bend over the desk. And put that leg up.” He moves around you and presses down on your upper back while helping to lift your knee to rest on the desk. “Now you stay right fucking there, Sunshine.” 

Sir is on you in seconds, the thud of his knees hitting the floor echoes in the room. Large paws slap each asscheek before he grips them tight and lets them go again, loving the crescent-shaped dents left in your skin by his fingernails.  

Gently spreading your cunt open with his thumbs, he leans in and swirls his tongue around your slick entrance. You bite your lip so only the tiniest moan escapes. Sir stops and addresses you. 

“Don’t you bite back that fucking moan, darling. I want to hear you. And if I’m being honest, I kinda want my men to hear you too. I want them to know who you belong to. Am I understood, Sunshine?” Sir lands a slap on your ass when you don’t reply with words, the ‘mhm’ you murmured is not appreciated. 

“Yes, Sir!” You yelp, the sting of the slap still reverberating across your skin. 

“That’s my girl.” Sir returns his tongue to your opening, sliding a hand under you to fondle your clit.  

Pinching your nub quickly, he is rewarded with your guttural noises. Stiffening his tongue, he inserts it straight into your pussy and the unexpected movement has you pushing back into him. 

“Yes, Sir, please! Just like that!” You fuck yourself on his tongue, working your hips up and down doing all the work. 

Sir removes his tongue from your cunt, a mix of saliva and your cum connects his tongue to your hole. Two fingers soon replace his tongue, fucking into you at break-neck speed, massaging your inner sweet spot at the same time. With one hand still focusing on your clit, you were overwhelmed soon enough by how persistent he was. 

“Sir, please, may I cum?” You tried your best to maintain but you were hanging on by a thread. 

Shoving a third digit inside you, Sir picks up where he left off, driving into your core like a fucking piston. You feel your walls starting to tighten and Sir must feel it too because he finally relents, and your wish is granted.  

“Fucking cum for me, Sunshine.” As he pulls his fingers from your squelching snatch, your legs buckle in an orgasm that pulls from you a series of wails that you suspect fill the halls of the house.  

Landing a few slaps to your clit, Sir stands and steadies your hips before you slide off the desk. Wrapping an arm around your front, he pulls you against his tall frame, leaving kisses along your neck. He sways gently to a song you can’t hear, and it feels good to be in his arms. You let your body be turned sideways and be picked up so gently, with more care than he’s shown you before.  

“I think you have a little more in you.” Sir smiles down at you, chuckling at your poor attempt at smiling. You nod when the muscles in your face betray you. “Let’s get you into bed so I can really fuck you stupid.” Your head rests on his shoulder as you look up into bright blue eyes. 

You don’t remember when your eyes slid shut, but you are startled awake when you feel the blunt head of Sir’s dick break through your swollen womanhood. Your first instinct is to fight him off, but two strong hands grab your wrists and pin them above your head. Holding them there with one hand, the other finds your cheek. 

“Shh, shh, it’s just me. You nodded off there for a second. Figured some dick would wake you up, and I was right.” He pulls his hips back and slams into your heat again, groaning at the way your face contorts in pleasurable pain, a high-pitched moan leaving your lips. “Don’t hold back, Sunshine, let ‘em hear you.”  

Moving his hands away from your face and wrists, he wraps one hand around your neck while the other goes to clutch at the sheets next to your head. As he fucks into you, the wet, slapping sounds of flesh bounce off the walls and hit your ears. His grunts in your ear are so close, you can feel his hot breath puffing against your skin as his hand tightens on the sides of your throat. 

At this angle, you can feel as Sir stimulates your clit and your g-spot. Your body is jutting up the bed with each thrust. His chokehold on you is the only thing keeping you from slamming into the headboard. Your legs wrap around his waist, your thighs shaking as another orgasm starts to chart its way through your body.  

“Sir, fuck...please!” Your cry out, staring up into the ceiling as fat tears fall from your eyes. 

Lloyd’s head picks up at that moment as he hears your babbling sobs. “Oh, yes Sunshine. Cry for me, just like that.” He licks away your tears and leans up on his knees to grab your hips, plowing into you so that his dick slams into your cervix. 

“Sir, may I cum, please?” You can feel the precise moment that the tightly wound band of control snaps inside you and there is no turning back. 

“Cum with me, Sunshine!” Sir’s hips stutter as he finishes, and your hands clutch onto his as they rest at your sides. 

“Fuuuuuuuck, yes Sir!” Your twat milks his dick dry, every spurt of cum so warm and heavy that you feel the weight of each stream as it paints your walls. 

Your combined moans harmonize in the room as you enjoyed each other’s bodies. As you both come down, Sir pitches forward and catches himself with a hand on the bed before he falls completely on top of you.  

Breathing erratically, you pull him down and run your hands through his sweaty mop. “Is this ok, Sir?” You freeze, not knowing if this is crossing the line. 

He can only nod, still trying to catch his breath. You can’t help but smile a little to yourself because you followed your instincts and this time you chose right. You try not to think about the rest of your situation, but it’s only right that you do. 

Sir’s softening cock slips free from your cunt and you both wince at the loss. Sir collapses to the side of you and you turn to face him. Following his warmth as he turns to his side, he opens his arm to welcome you into his embrace and you snuggle up to him. 

“Fuck me, Sunshine! Jesus Christ, you fucking drained my balls on that one.” He sighs and pulls you closer. You yawn loudly breaking the silence between you and Sir chuckles at your cute little face before he speaks up again. “How about a bedtime story?” 

You know you’ll be asleep any second, but the curiosity in you to hear what macabre thing he’ll come up with is too great. “You wanna tell me a bedtime story, Sir?” 

“Yeah, it’s probably not a great story, but it’s sure to make those gears turn in that fucked-out little brain of yours.” He pokes a finger to your forehead and your eyes cross a bit to follow it. You move a hand to grab his finger, but he moves it too quickly. 

“I wanna hear the story, Sir.” You sniffle a bit, blinking your eyes to try and stay awake. 

“I’ll tell it, but no questions and no interruptions, you understand?” Sir holds your chin between his pointer finger and thumb. 

“Yes, Sir.” Still cock-drunk, you smile lazily and nod up at him. 

“That’s my good girl,” He leans in for a kiss and you oblige him, wrapping a leg around him. “Now, our story begins with a lonely girl. She had no friends. Unless you count the ones at the place where she got her morning coffee. She knew all the baristas, and they knew her order well, but they didn’t know much about the girl. Anyway, the girl would go to work every day where she spent her whole shift with her head shoved in a book. And no one really talked to her, except one man that she had banned from her work area. Poor guy.” 

Your body stiffens as you recognize a part of the story. 

“But even with a quiet life, the girl starts to think that there must be more to life than this monotony. She starts to feel lonelier than before. And even though she plays with her pretty little pussy every single night before she goes to sleep, she craves more. She wants the real thing. So, she decides to go to Tinder. She’s not above a quick fuck, but she’d rather have something real. She starts talking with a dude and they hit it off. It was intensely sexual at first, but then it got more real. They would talk about their hobbies and their favorite movies and all types of shit. She liked him. Soon, she makes up her mind and she’s gonna meet him for a dinner date.” 

Your heart hammers in your chest and the way he pauses dramatically lets you know that he knows you see where he is going. 

“She gets to the diner, and she doesn’t hear from him at all as she downs cup after cup of coffee. She gets stood up; can you believe it? Well, I can believe it. This guy wasn’t right for her. He wouldn’t know how to please her, he wouldn’t know her drink order, and he couldn’t possibly be what she was looking for. No, no. The man who shared her reading interests in the library who she referred to as a creep, that guy was right for her. Mentioning how much he also liked Bret Easton Ellis over Chuck Palahniuk was funny at that moment, but I guess as she thought about it, she was a little worried. And that was just too damn bad.” 

Your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“Mr. Tinder, or whatever his name was, was super surprised in the parking lot that night. He never saw that knife coming. But that was one less player on the board, which made the odds a little better for a knight in shining armor to come and save her from some asswipe in an alleyway who should’ve kept his hands to himself. Right, Sunshine?” 

Your breath was coming in shallow gasps, and you blinked away tears that fell without your permission. You looked up into bright blue eyes and he continued to speak. 

“For so long, I watched you. I watched and I waited for you to come to your senses. But you picked the first guy to give you attention on the internet, instead of the man who thought you were the most beautiful thing he ever set his eyes on. I had to have you, Sunshine. His grubby little mitts wouldn’t have known what to do with you. I bet he wouldn’t have given a fuck if you even came during sex at all. And all you ever need to do is tell me you need it, and I will drop everything and make sure you cum until you’re exhausted. As I said before, Sunshine, you’re the one. I knew I needed you, and I will do anything to show you how much you need me.” 

“I do need you, Sir. You're all I have.” The words leave your mouth so quickly; you start to accept them yourself. 

“You’re all I have, Sunshine. You are everything.” His hand on your face is so warm, comforting even.  

“You won’t let anything happen to me.” It was a statement, one that you wished to be true. 

“Never.” You believed him. The way he killed a man for you and the way he washed your body so gently in the bathtub. Of course, you were starting to believe every safe and reassuring word he said.  

To your credit, you still have that tiny sliver of reality in your thoughts that stops you from diving into the deep end. In that tiny space inside your brain, you hold the idea that he could kill you at any time. The collar you wear keeps you safe, but it was also contingent on your good behavior. 

“Thank you, Sir. May I sleep now?” You yawn at the perfect time to sell your tiredness. 

“Sleep, Sunshine. You’ve had quite a day.” He places a kiss on the top of your head, a yawn pulling at his face.  

Curling into Sir’s embrace, the welcoming warmth is enough to have you feeling safe and guarded in seconds, your soft snores soon filling the room.  

Sir watches you sleep for a while, letting a finger glide across your smooth features before he shuts his eyes to join you. 

Part IV (coming soon)

A/N: Who doesn’t love a good bedtime story? See you next time. 😉 

**Tag List** 

@motivation-idontknowher @buckysteveloki-me @magnificentsaladllama @gyusbrownie @milknhonies @peyton-warren @raccoon-eyed-rebel @horrorlover304 @cakesandtom 

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😊 

#chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #dark! fic #dark fic #dark!fic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #dont take my sunshine away

[direwombat]

wip whoops its friday

tagged by the beloveds @g0dspeeed, and @adelaidedrubman (tysm~ <3)

still hating everything i write, but the "daddy la roux lives and is in the fc5 timeline" au has seized my brain and i have been piecing together an abridged version of katc for this au featuring syb's shitty dad <3 so here he is. being a little less shitty. and helping boomer dig her up from the grave faith put her in during her Bad Day™

In the confines of the coffin, Sybille had managed to stay calm. To slow her breathing, conserve her oxygen and focus on the sole task of breaking free. Humming that song had helped -- had given her the adrenaline she needed, and the soft, phantom voice of Jacob Seed murmuring words of encouragement every time she struck the lid. 

Good. 

Again. 

Almost there.

It isn’t until the wood buckles and dirt begins pouring in that she begins to panic. The soft, crumbly topsoil falls onto her face and into her mouth, like thousands of tiny spiders crawling over her skin. 

Her initial scream was more instinctive than anything else. 

Each subsequent one is more akin to the yowling of a feral animal throwing itself against its cage. 

Her bloody knuckles sting as dirt cakes onto them, but despite its looseness, the soil is heavy. Each time she pushes it away, more takes its place. She can barely breathe. It’s only when she takes a strained breath for air that she hears the sound of a dog barking. It’s faint, muffled by God only knows how much dirt, but she’d know that sound anywhere. 

Boomer. 

It’s enough to keep her going. 

She calls his name, and with a renewed sense of vigor and desperation, she continues to claw her way to the surface. The dirt begins to move around her, and between Boomer’s barking, she thinks she hears the sound of another person’s voice. It’s low and likewise muffled, but it sounds like a man. 

Someone is here. 

Someone is here to save her. 

Most likely Earl, if she had to wager a guess. Boomer must have run for help after she passed out from the Bliss. She’s just lucky they found her in time. The prison wasn’t close to where she last remembers being. Maybe it’s Sharky. Hell, it might even be Xander. 

She thrusts her arm up into the dirt as far as she can push it, and there’s a sudden release of pressure as her hand breaches the surface. “HELP!” she cries out, and this time, she’s close enough to hear Boomer yipping and barking in response. 

And then the warmth of another person’s hand grasps hers. It’s rough and calloused, and there’s a not insignificant part of her that bizarrely hopes that it’s Jacob’s. It squeezes her own, almost reassuringly, and while she still can’t tell who the voice belongs to, she can make out their words. “I gotcha, I gotcha, I’m’a getcha outta there!” 

The pull nearly wrenches her arm out of its socket. It’s like being dragged through molasses. But her arm is free.

Then her head, and she’s blinking away the bits of dirt falling into her eyes, her vision adjusting from the pitch black of the underground to the bright sunlight glaring overhead.

Then her torso is pulled from the ground, and she’s falling into wiry, but strong arms. She trembles against her savior, clawing at his shirt and hiding her face in shame as tears blur her vision and streak down her cheeks. But when she inhales and the stench of stale tobacco and the sharp bite of menthol fills her nose, a broken sob rips free of her chest. 

“It’s okay, Billie,” Daddy shushes and he holds her tighter. “I’ve gotcha. You’re safe now, okay? Daddy’s here. Daddy’s gotcha.” 

She ought to push him away. She should want to claw his eyes out. But for the first time since she was a baby, Daddy’s here. Her knees come to curl up to her chest, making herself as small as possible, and suddenly she’s four years old again. 

She’s four years old and Daddy’s home, and he doesn’t stink of alcohol.

She’s four years old and nothing Bad has happened yet. 

She’s four years old and Daddy’s here to chase the nightmares and monsters away.

She’s thirty-five years old, screaming in grief and agony and all the other emotions she bottled up inside are suddenly bursting free until all she can do is shiver and shake while he holds her. His touch is startlingly gentle. Long, nimble fingers -- pickpocket’s fingers; cheating gambler’s fingers; liar’s fingers -- stroke her hair and rub small circles over her back, trying to help soothe the pain away. 

She’s thirty five years old, and for the first time in as long as she can remember, she feels safe in Daddy’s arms.

taggin' @fourlittleseedlings, @wrathfulrook, @harmonyowl, @ivymarquis, @carlosoliveiraa, @cassietrn, @poetikat, @confidentandgood, @strafethesesinners, @trench-rot, @miyabilicious, @simplegenius042, @inafieldofdaisies, @josephslittledeputy, @aceghosts, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @voidika, @strangefable, and anyone else wanting to share a wip! (taglist opt in/out)

#there's a whole 'reconciliation' and 'forgiveness' (or lack thereof for both) thing going on in this au that's very fun to play with #anyway. i will catch up on tags this evening i prommy. i am just. 15 minutes away from a VERY busy afternoon #wip wednesday #wip whenever

[ventiswampwater]

sawn off pump-action

bo sinclair x afab!reader

rating: explicit

wordcount: 1.2k

Reader POV. Go on and bring him his gun, sugar. You ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of. 

So, I know this was from a prompt which literally ONLY asked me to tell you what I’d write HYPOTHETICALLY for it. But then I fell into a fugue state and stumbled out covered in blood, clutching this filthnasty in my evil little hands. Sigh. Here we go again, I GUESS. 

Thank you @languidcryptid​ for the brainworm!! Mwah!!💕

⚠️ Canon-typical violence. Gun kink. Stockholm syndrome. EXTREMELY dubious consent. It’s heavily implied that the reader is actively assisting with/participating in the murders. Religious imagery and symbolism. Weird prose. Odd tenderness. Biting (Bo receiving). A blowjob in Doc Sinclair’s office. Light sprinkling of daddy and mommy kink. ⚠️

Using this fic as an opportunity to plug A Gun is a Lonesome Creature by @visceravalentines!! If you’re in the mood for IdiotMan™ being nasty with his stupid shotgun, this is required reading!! A fic of all time!! 

God tastes like sweat and gunpowder in your mouth.

Love tastes like that too, sometimes. Not always, though. Sometimes it’s the queasy swirl of your stomach you had as a child when you ate too much, too fast. 

When you think about it, you’ve always been hungry. You’ve always wanted something in your mouth.

Bo’s hand is on the crown of your head, fingers lightly combing through your hair. 

You can’t remember what you’re celebrating—which anniversary is this, anyway? The one with his hand around your throat or the gravel cutting into your knees?

You run your tongue along the barrel of his gun.

Maybe it’s the other one, when he shook you awake and sat you on his lap on the porch. You were shivering in the early morning chill, watching another day spill out from the clouds. His hands had slipped under your shirt, stroking up your waist. You always stay in moments like that for too long, leaning into his touch. That’s your fault, really. 

The sun was cresting over the tree line when he kissed your neck. He told you that this was the only place left in the world for people like the two of you. 

What kind of people?

Sinners, angel.

You lick at the muzzle, circling your mouth around it. He’d made you bring him the shotgun shells. Held them in his palm and asked you to kiss them. Once for luck, once for love, once for the road. 

The safety’s been off this whole time.

Go on, baby.

He’d promised that he wouldn’t hurt you. His promise doesn’t mean much. Once, he’d promised that you’d always hate him.

Ain’t it funny how these things turn out?

His mouth hangs open as he watches you take your death between your teeth, swallowing your lips around cold metal. 

There’s a ghost in this room and it looks like a fissure of broken glass hanging in a frame on the wall. You can’t prove anything to ghosts, they’ll never listen. They don’t see things like you do. 

That won’t stop him from trying.

When he’s had his fill of watching your lips slide up and down the gun, he eases it out of your mouth. You watch as he sets it down on the desk.

The chair creaks a bit when he sits in it. He beckons you over and you go to him, watching him loosen his belt. Lowering yourself onto your knees, you scoot forward. 

You’ve bled for him. He’s seen you kill. Sometimes the blood was yours and sometimes it wasn’t. It washed off all the same. 

Impulsively, you reach forward and grab onto his arm, pulling it towards you to peer at his wrist. His skin is corded there, ringed in a thick band of shining scar tissue. 

You close your eyes as you drop a ring of kisses along it. You kiss him like you’re asking a question, each press of your lips begging if it’s good enough, if he likes it. He doesn’t seem to have an answer for you, but he doesn’t pull his hand away. 

“Doin’ it all gentle.” He mutters. “I’m not made of glass.”

You hesitate for a moment before you raise your lips to the side of his hand. Experimentally, you open your mouth wider, teasing your teeth on his skin. He hisses out a breath when you nip at him, a light hum at the back of his throat. It almost sounds like contentment, but you know better (don’t you). You soothe the bite with a lick, tracing the ident of your teeth with the tip of your tongue. 

“Sweet thing.” 

You bite him again, harder this time. He flexes his fingers, shifting slightly in the chair. 

“Does it hurt?” You whisper. 

He chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You can’t hurt me, baby. You’re too soft.”

Soft isn’t you. That’s just the skin of your thighs. But then again, you don’t expect him to know the difference. The bruises on them ache as you lean forward, rubbing against each other. 

He tugs his hand away and you pull him out of his boxers. The gun is on the table behind you. It feels like it’s aimed at the back of your head. He thought of you! That’s sweet of him.

You wrap your lips around him with a moan. 

He feels better when he isn’t made of steel. Craning your head forward, you trail a long lick up the underside of his cock. Sometimes it feels like you’ve known him forever. Often, it’s like he’s the only person you’ve ever known. He twitches against your tongue, huffing out a sharp breath. 

You love him enough that you’d shoot him once in the chest, right under his heart.

You pull back, lifting your mouth off his cock.

You want him wheezing on the ground, cradled in your arms. That’s what love is—watching someone die. He shouldn’t have taught you that if he didn’t want you to dream about it.

“Is it good?” You ask, wetting your bottom lip. “Do you like it, daddy?”

Your prayers are sloppy things, but he’ll take them. You’re not sure who you’re even worshiping at this point. God, thick and warm in your mouth? God, a killing thing on the desk? God, in the thoughts inside your head?

You could ask whose jewelry you’re wearing, but you don’t have to.

“Yeah.” He murmurs. “Keep goin’, mama.”

And you do, because this is the only thing you want (other than the killing, and you’ll have to wait for that). 

You get lost in motion, in heat, working your head up and down. Saliva pools in your mouth, running down his cock. The pressure of his hand at the back of your head feels like security.  

Most of the time, the belonging doesn’t seem to go both ways. Not in this town, not even for sinners. You’re his, always, no exceptions. But he’s hardly yours (if he’s anyone’s at all). You listen to the uneven hitch of his breathing, stroking your hands up his thighs. Heat coils low in your belly, pooling wet and anxious between your legs. He shudders as he fucks up into your mouth. 

He lets out a strangled groan as he cums. Head tipped back; eyes closed. This is when he’s yours. He can’t be anyone else’s.

You can feel him softening in your mouth. You pull back slowly, sucking gently at the tip. You won’t waste a drop. Unlike him, you keep your promises. He chokes out a shaky breath, his hips jolting forward as you bob your head. His fingers tug roughly at your hair.

You can’t hurt me, baby. You’re too soft.

You’d like his lips on you next, his tongue. He’d tell you that was selfish. But maybe he should close his mouth if he isn’t hungry. 

You could take the place of the gun on the desk. Push the papers off the edge, knock the books onto the floor. This is only his house as much as he’s willing to prove it. And when you’re stuck performing for the dead, how much can you ever truly own?

Taste me and tell me if I’m like the barrel of a gun, or the cold metal of the blade in your back pocket, or the morning dew on the grass when you use my skin to keep you warm. 

He can leave more marks on your thighs, bite you hard enough that he gets your blood in his mouth. He’ll have to kiss you after, though.

Sinners share things here.

You can be the one made of metal for a bit.

#no fuckin idea where this came from. but here it is dsjjfdshjhfdsjfdjh #mento eel-ness #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x reader #slasher fandom #x reader #my fics #eventually I will write smthn for another fuckin character. I swear. but for NOW #<-he's my favorite!!! regrettably!!! UNFORTUNATELY!!! TRAGICALLY!!!!

[dear-departed]

MC wants the brothers to be their muse

MC is an artist, and every artist needs a muse. Which lucky brother will obtain their interest?

A/N: Well here's my first written thing on Tumblr, wish me luck. Sorry if some of the sections are longer or shorter than others. Also, it's my first time writing in a while, so I'm sorta rusty, but enjoy.

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, not in a sexual manner, just art

Word count: 3K

Lucifer ♥ 

“An art model, you say? About how long will this supposed art session take?” 

Upon finding out that live paintings take at least a few hours, he states that he might have to do it at least a week from now. He finds the idea tempting, but his schedule is absolutely packed. Though, perhaps he can work extra hard to make time for the painting. 

Ultimately, he agrees. 

He says he’s fine with stripping to his boxers but if, and only if, you promise to keep it for yourself and not sell it. If you intend to sell the painting, he would rather do it with clothes on.  

It’s not that he’s self-conscious, but he knows for a fact that Mammon would most definitely try to buy it, and then double the price.  

When the time comes, he chooses a very grand posed, hand outstretched, foot pointed behind him, wings sprawled out behind his back proudly. You’re first concerned with him getting fatigued from holding that pose for a long time. After about 20 minutes you ask him if he needs a break. 

He refuses. He’s “feeling fine”. 

He is not feeling fine. 

He does not want to accept a break; he would rather suffer in silence.  

Force him to take a break. Please. He will not do so himself.  

He doesn’t talk a whole lot during the session. Well... at least not at the beginning. As time marches forward, he’ll open up a little bit. A little demonus would get him to unwind. He might go on a long tangent about the stresses of life. He’d normally never open up to people like this, but you’re his human. You’re different. 

Speaking of his human, he was never too interested in human-world affairs until it met you. Now he asks quite a few questions about your life in the human world. What is your family like? What were your views on angels and demons before you came to the Devildom? 

He loves the finished piece, so much so that he denies the payment you offer after the session is over.  

“MC, I have no need for your payment. What painting supplies do you use? What supplied would you buy if you had enough Grimm?” 

Our favorite accidental sugar daddy™, he buys you the paints and brushes you mentioned. He keeps them in his room until he finds an excuse to give them to you, may it be your birthday, a good test score, praise from a teacher, etc.  

Mammon ♥ 

“Ya need an art model? How much are we talkin’ here? And how long will it take, I’m a busy guy. Places to be, money to make, people to do business with!” 

“...6,000 Grimm? You’ve got yourself a deal, MC! You better capture The Great Mammon in all his glory!” 

He is convinced this will be an easy 6,000 Grimm. All he’s gotta do is stand there for a while, right? Sorta like the other modeling gigs he does! 

He promises MC that he can do a great job in choosing his own pose, he knows exactly the way he looks best 

He chooses to let out his demon form in the painting, he poses on a chair with his wings stretched out in a grand, shimmery flourish, one elbow resting on the back of the chair while one hand is delicately held up behind his head, coins all over his lap. 

“I can be nude, if ya want. I’ll just need a bit extra.” 

I guess it’s up to you, right? Are you willing to pay the price? 

Also, turns out paintings aren’t like photography at all. He’s so fidgety, constantly fiddles with the coins in his lap, and he asks for posing breaks every 10 minutes or so.  

You also can’t help but notice that throughout the session, coins not-so-slowly start to disappear from the pile in his lap, and his pockets (or lack thereof) seem to be extra jingly. If you decided to have him pose nude, then you can bet he’s sitting on a lot of Grimm 

He’s also very chatty during the session, which I suppose isn’t too bad.  

To keep the room from being dead silent, you usually have a speaker playing some soft background music. He demands that you let him play one of his playlists 

After the painting is finished, he is... for lack of a better word, abso-fucking-lutely flabbergasted  

“So... you’re tellin’ me, you’ve had this moneymaking talent hidden right beneath my nose this entire time?” 

Taking into account the Grimm that he swiped during the session, you begin to count out his payment.  

Against his urge to dash to the casino with his newly acquired 6,000 or so Grimm, he puts the pouch back in your hands. “Can I buy it?” 

So, you wanted a painting of yourself? 

“No! I’m not some ego freak like Asmo, but... you painted it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not even that good, I mean. No! That’s not what I meant, I meant it’s great. I just... dammit, MC! How much do you want for it?! Just tell me already!”  

Leviathan ♥ 

“W-why would you want to paint me? I’d look gross...fine...Can you paint me in my room? It’s like... taking picture of something in its natural habitat.” 

Are you sure, Levi? There’s a chance I’ll get paint on all of your precious figurines, I wouldn’t want that. 

“I take it back! Keep your stupid paint hands away! No, your hands aren’t stupid, I’m stupid! Ugh, do I have to help you?” 

He agrees, but on two conditions. One, nothing’s coming off, and two, only if he gets to incorporate Ruri-Chan into the painting.  

“D-do I want to pose myself? I think you know better poses than I could ever come up with, Henry- er... MC.  

It’s a nightmare trying to pose him and a Ruri-Chan plush, it’s less of a... conventional piece as the other brothers, but it’s definitely worth the end result.  

He’s very shy at first, does not say a word. It’s not that the music or the soft sounds of your brushes wiping across the canvas soothes him or anything, he’s just taking this job very seriously. If you asked him of all people to be your art model, maybe it’s really important, so he should show that he can be good model. 

Or what if you took pity on the gross otaku of the group and tried to give him a change to feel special? 

Or if you messed up something of his and are trying to make it up to him? 

Suddenly, the gentle sounds of your brush and the classical music in the background is deafening. He must fill the avoid. 

“Y-you know... I remember watching something like this in an anime once. It’s ‘I Became an Art Model for My Best Friend and Suddenly We’re Soulmates’... not that I think we’re soulmates or anything! That’s only something a creep would say! But the... art aspect...” 

He’s actually really good at staying still between breaks, unless, that is, you get him worked up on a topic he’s passionate about. For example, you made the mistake of bringing up a live action for a popular anime. Let’s just say he motions with his hands a lot. But hey, at least he’s good at freezing back up in the same exact position he was in before, so that’s cool. 

His nerves eventually begin to melt away within the first hour and a half or so  

After he sees the painting, he’s amazed “you got the full glory of Ruri-Chan! MC! It’s looks amazing!” He is grinning and looking at it, almost in a scared manner, like just his gaze will ruin the piece, yet he can’t help but stare at what beauty you’ve created. 

He accepts a bribe of some rare merch you won at a claw machine a few weeks ago. He wants to keep the painting, he’d buy it off of you, but he feels too... egotistical if he does that, like he’s obsessed with himself, which couldn’t be further from the truth 

In reality, it’s you he’s obsessed with, and that painting was created with your own two hands, so that’s mostly why he wants it.  

Satan ♥ 

“You need an art model? And you came to me first, out of all of my brothers? MC... you’re such a flatterer. Of course, I’ll pose for you.” 

He’s not against going nude, but he would appreciate if he could have a plant or a book over his crotch. He says it’s for the sake of leaving something to the imagination, like a book that’s left open ended. After all, MC, not everything is supposed to be tied up nice and neat. 

He’s a great model, he chooses an easy yet elegant pose, the simplicity of his stance makes the painting flow together nicely. 

He chooses to lay on his hip with his elbow propped up against a stool covered in a velvet blanket, with around five or six books scattered around him. 

You both have come to the conclusion that a cat isn’t the most, er... willing, model. So, he settled for a few pictures of cats in the middle of the chaos of books.  

He asks for breaks every 20 minutes or so, to just stretch out and chat with you a little bit. Outside of breaks, he keeps his form very nicely and doesn’t fatigue easily 

He finds the atmosphere actually very calm and comforting, especially with you in the room. For once, it kind of feels like the wrath constantly just beneath his skin’s surface is becoming a little less noticeable.  

Maybe you two should do art therapy together. Could you teach him how to paint, MC? He would love to learn with you.  

After the painting is finished, he’s in awe, you encapsulated the scene perfectly. Whatever your art style is, he can’t help but praise it. There’s just something about the way that you painted this that resonates with him on a more personal level.  

A part of him wants to keep the painting to himself, or to convince you to hang it in your room.  

He will brag about being your muse, or at least point it out every once in a while. 

To keep Mammon in check when he reminds everyone about being your ‘first man’, to remind Belphie that his napping partner chose him for a painting 

He’s not super egotistical, but he does enjoy the fact that you painted him of all people. And by dad, did it look great. 

Asmodeus ♥ 

“Of course, you would want me to be your muse! Who else would you choose? MC, you must be so grateful that there’s a model in this house who you can use to bring your imagination to life. I’m so excited!” 

He pretty much gets on his hands and knees and begs you to let him do the painting nude. You can find a compromise, though. Lingerie, a very intricate and outfit as gorgeous as him will also make do. 

Similar to Lucifer, Asmo uses few to no props. Perhaps he’ll pose with a flower, but he believes that there shouldn’t be any distractions from his perfect body, he should be the one and only focus. 

Oh. My. Dad. He has such a hard time picking a pose to stick with “would it be better if I showed off my back? Oh, but my face and chest are so beautiful, too! MC, you should pose me! Come over here and become my sculptor!” 

He literally lets you “sculpt” him to your desired post, standing there while you carefully adjust his limbs to the correct pose. 

I know I said that Satan was a great model, but Asmo might even be better. After all, this isn’t his first rodeo. And not just with paint, either. 

You need breaks more than him, honestly. He stays perfectly still aside from his mouth,  

Pour him some demonus and let him gossip while you paint him, this will be the best day you’ve ever had, MC! 

He’s fine with you selling it, but you hanging it in your room would be amazing, too. The thought of his face somewhere else makes his heart melt  

After you’re done, he can’t help but gawk at how well you managed to encase, well, him. 

A kiss for payment, MC?  

“Right here!” He says as he points to his lips, winking. 

If not, Grimm is a fair payment, too, oh! Or a picture of you and him for Devilgram! Or a picture of you and him for Devilgram, but kissing! 

Beelzebub ♥ 

“I’ve never been a muse before, but I would give it a try for you, MC.” 

Sweetest man ever, he has almost zero questions about this whole ordeal. 

But that one question that makes me add the “zero” is “do you have snacks while you work?” 

Be prepared to give him snacks every 10 minutes or so unless you want all hell to break loose (literally) 

He lets you choose a pose; he doesn’t really know what a good pose is, he’s used to just kind of... standing. 

He’ll go down to his boxers in terms of nudity, or he might get something to just cover his crotch, similar to Satan. 

He’s pretty good, company, unsurprisingly He's not super chatty, but he likes to hear you talk. 

He tries to find topics that you enjoy and asks you about your story with painting. He’ll do anything to hear your voice a little more, sometimes it feels like being around you satisfies his hunger a little. 

He’ll tell you about Fangol, the rules, stories of his time playing the sport, his practice days and times. Possibly with the hope that you’ll decide to visit him during practice. 

He isn’t all too squirmy, and he’s good at keeping his pose. He does watch your arm very intently while you paint, trying to imagine what could possibly be going on behind that canvas of yours.  

You also might find him just staring into your eyes if he can see them.  

He might start talking about Belphie, or his brothers. He speaks fondly of different memories he has with all of them, and the conversation might even slide over to Lilith, as it often does.  

He could listen to you talk for hours about your life in the human world. Your pets, your family, the food you eat there. He seems really interested if you mention that your family often has big dinners together. Eating with the people you’re close to? That sounds like his type of family.  

If not, that’s fine, too. He considers you family, and he knows that all of the other brothers do as well. And you all eat meals together a lot, so he’s glad you can experience that.  

The snack breaks don’t take long at all, which is another plus. He inhales whatever snack you give him (do not make the mistake of giving him pistachios with the shell on. He will eat the shell.) 

He loves the painting when he sees it. He just smiles and looks between you and the painting for a few minutes, almost amazed that your hands could create something like this. Sometimes he wonders if you’re actually a human. 

He doesn’t really care what you do with the painting. He doesn’t mind the idea of you keeping it in your room or selling it. He would definitely want a picture of you if you ever were to make a self-portrait, but he isn’t too inclined to keep a painting of himself. 

For payment, quality time and maybe a dinner date with you would be all he’d need. And if it isn’t too much trouble, could you also invite Belphie? 

Belphegor ♥ 

“...Do I look like a model to you?”  

He acts like he hates the idea, but it doesn’t take much convincing for him to let you paint him. 

Can he sleep? Or at least be sitting or lying down while he poses? Yeah? Good. 

He doesn’t care how he poses; you can choose if you want. Just as long as it’s comfy.  

Do you want him to pose nude? Yeah, sure, whatever. Sounds good, MC, just as long as the room’s not too cold. 

He’s really a pushover when it comes to the whole thing; like a ragdoll. You can really do whatever, he’ll be fine as long as he’s comfortable. 

If he’s not sleeping, he’s pretty okay company. He lets you do most of the talking, though, he’s curious about you and your life. 

Eventually, the conversation can and will shift to talking shit about Lucifer, or scheming ways to prank him. 

Putting salt in his coffee, slowly taking stuffing and feathers out of his pillow, putting condiment packets below the midsole of his shoe? You name it, he’s thought of it.  

He doesn’t shift a whole lot, just kind of sits there and watches you perform your craft 

He’ll also rant about Lord Diavolo. He says that bringing you to the Devildom might be the only good thing he’s done on a whim in a while.  

Really, he’s angry at life a lot, maybe enough to give the avatar of wrath a run for his money. 

Despite his anger, he doesn’t really have it in him to hate any of his brothers or Lord Diavolo, regardless of how annoying they all can be.  

He’s totally ready to tell you about embarrassing things the brothers have done when they were younger. You’re going to hear all about how Mammon got sucked up by a mud puddle on a camping trip, or how Lucifer got drunk on demonus one night at the fall and got swindled into doing a karaoke duet with Lord Diavolo. The only brother who gets any mercy is Beel. 

He’s such a brat. A lovable brat, but a brat nevertheless. 

Once he sees the painting, he loves it. Usually, he’s not one to like, ogle over his own body or anything, but damn did you make him look good. Or was that just because it was painted by you? 

Oh yeah pretty please hang it up in your room. He would love to know that something that reminds you of him is constantly in your room, in plain sight.  

You owe him a week’s worth of naps, by the way. It’s only natural.  

#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me shall we date #obey me #shall we date

[wxnheart]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬, 𝟒𝟎𝐊 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

note: life wouldn't be complete without dysfunctional family dynamics and presents Big Daddy E may or may not ever give. this is crack-canon so don't take this list seriously. or you can. your choice.

'Twas the night before, uh... not!Christmas and all throughout the Palace, every creature was stirring, and Chaos was roaming about...

And the Emperor was busy... doing whatever the Emperor does. Which is to proclaim his not-so-divine nature while everyone throughout the Imperium was essentially thanking him for, like, everything. From his throne. From his golden fucking throne. Also may or may not have banned Lorgar from doing this because he's... he's Lorgar.

Fucking Horus™ does what Fucking Horus™ does best in his downtime: gossip with Sanguinius.

And Sanguinius is just as cool as cucumber, listening to Horus talk shit as always. And even HE can admit that the information he got from his brother was quite... interesting indeed. Oh, he's also being heavily guarded by the Sanguinary Guard because apparently the wine he was gifted for such an occasion ABSOLUTELY HAS to be an attempt on his life. He doesn't have the heart to tell them that he and Horus are consuming the wine as they speak. Or maybe he does and just doesn't give a damn. Who knows?

Corvus took a day out of his ruminating and self-imposed lonely existence to once again play Hide and Seek and Go Stab because Konrad fuckin' Curze can't leave well enough alone by saying that Corvus's beloved ravens would look wonderful as decorations throughout the palace.

Konrad's also cringing the entire time because some poor bastard in his legion had the audacity to joke—get this—that they should liven the place up. You know, with live people. Whatever that meant.

That may also be why Lion is THISCLOSE to suplexing him, too.

Leman Russ is also doing what Leman Russ does best: antagonize his brothers. Drunkenly. Which incites some miniature war in one part of the palace. Between who you might ask? Well, Magnus and Lion, of course.

Magnus wasn't supposed to attend because he has much better things to do than celebrate some meaningless holiday but Leman called him a little bitch and now he's here to fuck shit up.

Lion also got pissed because Leman actually chose violence this time and purposely insulted him so now the Great Wolf himself is fighting a two-front war.

Mortarion is not banned this time by virtue of being Mortarion but he keeps away for his sanity because everything is not decorated in multiples of 7. Um...

Vulkan just... okay, all you need to know is that whatever Vulkan did, it burnt to a crisp. To a fucking crisp. Ignore the scorch marks.

Lorgar is writing but feels like he's being watched and the reality is that he is being watched by the Emperor so he doesn't write any more treatises on how this holiday only empowers his divinity and Lorgar he swears to... not himself that if you're writing what he thinks you're writing he will fucking burn those pages so damn quick—

Folks decided to put Angron's anger to good use and that's why the pastries his brothers partook in taste so good. He also got mad because they didn't COME OUT IN THE FUCKING SHAPE HE WANTED.

Someone complimented him. He told them to go fuck themselves. Or it was an approximation of Go Fuck Yourself if that scream was any indication. Okay, the kitchen's closed.

Jagahatai is too busy going fast so who the fuck knows where he is. He's somewhere though.

Rogal Dorn and Perturabo are, as usual, caught in their one-sided rivalry because they both drafted plans on how to decorate the palace and it was a variation of the same thing. Workers incorporated both designs, and it turned out beautifully but Perturabo is being a dick and sulking and plotting Dorn's demise.

Dorn is also experiencing inner turmoil because he and the Imperial Fists have been banned from using the Pain Glove for the holiday. Because of reasons. Once Perturabo finds out, he guffaws like he's never guffawed before.

Fulgrim is incredibly emotional because NO ONE wanted him to decorate and he bitches and moans with a glass of wine in hand to Ferrus Manus who's busy working on some blade or pistol or what have you. Ferrus doesn't admit that Fulgrim goes overboard on his decorating because that'll cause Fulgrim to bitch and moan again about how none of his brothers are "artistically inclined" and "one can never have enough purple and pink".

Guilliman nurses a drink and his wounded Ultrapride because the budget went over. You know, the budget that he so carefully, LOVINGLY, drafted for this auspicious day. All he fucking does for the Imperium and this is the shit he gets?!?!?!?! Who the hell purchased so much wrapping paper?! It was that shit bastard Lorgar, wasn't it?!

But no, it was them, Alpharius Omegon! To wreak havoc of course. As always. And starting with Guilliman because it's so easy to piss him off. And Dorn, too, because he's a fucking phony.

Happy, uh... Not!Christmas!

#cutie 𝓠. #warhammer 40k #wh40crack. #primarch #emperor of mankind #leman russ #lion el'jonson #sanguinius #horus lupercal #alpharius omegon #jaghatai khan #mortarion #konrad curze #corvus corax #vulkan #magnus the red #lorgar aurelian #ferrus manus #fulgrim #roboute guilliman #rogal dorn #perturabo #angron

[andy-clutterbuck]

6x15 | East

#excuse me richard #Rick Grimes #* #rg #S6 #excuse me but the nose™ #daddy's here and he's had enough #the nest of curls at the back of his neck #perfection #i love me some grumpy rick #get me some grumpy rick #hey murder coat love you #you'll always be famous

[papa-evershed]

Hellooooo! Here’s me crashing into your ask box to wish you a very happy, happy birthday!

I thought I’d ask you if you can remember some specific scenes/moments from a show and/or movie that triggered your “Oh, I need to gif this IMMEDIATELY!” desire.

And please do go ham on your reply, you know very well how much I enjoy them.

Have an amazing day! 🧡

Hey!!! I fucking love you! I don't know how the hell you manage to to do everything you do, but now you've gone and inspired me to start a fandom-friends birthday calendar. 😂😂 I legit admire how you always reach out to people and remember everyone!! But thank you so much for the birthday wishes, it's been a pretty good day so far so I can't complain! 🥰

As for moments I just had to gif?! There's been a fuck ton throughout the years and the men. 😅I'll answer under a cut for length and lets see what all my old lady brain can remember. 👵 I apologize in advance for how long this could potentially get and just how random the gifs probably are. I never feel inspired to gif cool scenes with witty dialogue, I just gif for thirst reasons because I'm a dumpster of a human. ETA: It got really long and didn't even scratch the surface tbh.

For Rob, I'll start with this one. I feel like I post it every time someone asks me about my favorite gifs or moments but listen, that man's god damn belly makes me feral. The context of the scene is also just peak Dad™ for me so it was 10000/10, absolutely had to gif this the second I watched:

This is an interview but you know when you first start checking out a new dude and you see gifs from interviews/shows where they look particularly tasty and you're immediately like I must find this and watch it or else I will perish. That was this interview for me. And how could it not be? Again...BELLY. Hairy belly. Just big, soft, delicious man meat. And thighs. As soon as I found it I had to gif it for myself so I could make it as obnoxiously big as humanly possible.

I watched this zoom live and the moment this motherfucker turned his head my brain said "gif it". Profile? Nose? Greys?

And this shot too. This man was fucking born to smile, he puts his whole ass into it.

This. His arms here. This scene was dark af but I knew I had to gif it anyway. I adore the shape of this man. It feels so fucking real to me. Soft belly, sizeable arms that still look natural. It's realistic, it's comfy, it's fucking sexy. He's just fucking man-shaped.

I don't even have to tell you why because I know you get it.

I'm an American what do you want from me? 🤡 I'm just kidding, it's not because of the gun. 😅IDK if you've watched Downton, but Thomas is just such a fucking capable man. There isn't a task they set him to that he doesn't excel at and I just felt like it was always overlooked and underappreciated by everyone around him. That shot and scene inspired an entire gifset I made about him being a man of many talents.🤓

I can't even explain it, I just knew I needed it. He just looks so man sized. And fuzzy. Just...go off daddy.

You and I both know I'd suck a dick for a good profile shot. The greys, the nose, the man...👀

I can't post all the gifs from this scene/episode so I'll settle for this one. But I knew immediately I'd be giffing it until my fingers hurt (that legit happens y'all, I'm old 👵) Not only did he spend some time in this episode being the soft, caring uncle but he did it in a cozy sweater and it was like they were sure to hit all my weaknesses at once. Soft cozy men? 👀Then they were kind enough to give us the most beautiful close-up shots of his face. And the boy just has a beautiful fucking face.

For old times' sake, I'm gonna include some Jon just for you but to be fair, I liked him for seven damn years so there were a lot. Too many to list or even remember. But here's a few that maybe aren't the obvious shots!

This one. I remember everyone losing their shit over his ass but I was losing my mind over that "soft flash of belly" (really, I was always fangirling the hardest over scenes where Jon looked softer than he really was so we shouldn't be shocked I eventually left for a man with a beer belly 😅)

Speaking of which, this scene too!

And of course, anytime he was covered in blood. I think I actually giffed this exact shot 5 or 6 different times.

And, the obligatory back of his head shot. There are so many here I could post because pretty much anytime I saw the back of Jon's head I immediately needed a gif of it but we'll go with this one, it was probably slept on a little bit.

Alright this is long enough! Bless anyone for reading this long. 😳 But legit, thanks for the fun ask and for the birthday wishes, Stef! 🥰🥰 Your kindness is one of the reasons I will always appreciate having been in Jon's fandom!

#i can't edit this for typos because every time i do tumblr tries to fuck up my read more insert so we all just gonna have to deal #listen you told me I could go ham 😅

[flashnthunder]

🖊 😈📝 for the fanfic ask game <3

hello!! <33

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

this is from what will (hopefully) be the main part of my webgott series so enjoy a couple hundred words of bickering™

“Joe, please. Just go home. Get a ticket back and go home.”

“We’re getting in the car. I’m getting a goddamn drink before I punch you in the face, and then you’re explaining yourself. You’re gonna tell me why I’m in cold fucking New York and we’re gonna go from there,” he puts his cigarette back to his lips once he’s finished. There’s a fire in Web’s eyes and for a fleeting second, there’s the chance he miscalculated how much will was involved here. 

Web runs a hand through his hair, sweeping back the wet curls that have fallen over his forehead. His hair is getting longer. Teasing around the length that ends with Joe cutting it for him and pretending not to enjoy it. The idea of some stranger cutting it instead makes it feel like someone’s dropped something heavy onto the middle of his chest. 

“I’m staying with my sister,” Web relents and Joe had taken half the train ride to imagine an awful meeting with one of his parents, but never a sibling. It might not be much better if his entire family is how he had pictured it through the brief sneaking looks behind the curtain Web had given him.

“You got a sister?” Joe’s eyebrow shoots up. The longer it goes on the more it feels like one beer won’t be enough. 

“Yes, Joe. I have a sister,” Web looks even more exhausted, and there will be time later to pick apart why he’d never mentioned that to Joe. 

“Daddy and Mommy Webster didn’t stop trying for rugrats after their golden boy?” Joe asks and Web looks about ten seconds away from beating him to throwing the first punch. 

“She’s my older sister, asshole,” Web snears at him. Joe throws his hands up in mock surrender. They’re starting to attract glances from the passengers waiting for the next train to come in. A man in a suit too expensive to be slumming it with everyone else meanders around them with a glance.

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

idk if i write it THAT much but- miscommunication and misunderstandings (that's resolved eventuallyyy) is fun but i feel like its a pretty split camp on people loving or hating it

📝 What is one growth area you have for your writing?

writing longer things!! i have a bad habit of deciding The Plot isn't working and consigning anything longer than 10k to collecting dust in my drafts

from these asks :)

#i need to get back on writing that but. crosby/rosie stole my braincells in the last couple mota eps and have created another wip

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Cashton Smut (2) Masterlist

part one

Bare (ao3) -im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance E, 2k

Summary: When Calum made that bet with Ashton, he did not know he was gonna lose, which meant he had to do anything Ashton wanted. At first it was alright but after five days, his frustration got the best of him. Calum wanted revenge. If Ashton wanted a bare Calum, he was going to get a bare Calum.

Clean Up (ao3) - tinyglitterrose T, 1k

Summary: Ashton refuses to clean his messy room and Calum is annoyed by it. One thing leads to another an he ends up fucking Ashton to make him finally clean up.

happy endings (ao3) - emiliathegreat (puckdummy) E, 3k

Summary: calum starts to visit a local bookstore to spend time with ashton, the cute boy who works there.

I’ll See You With Your Laughter Lines (ao3) - CliffordAffliction M, 11k

Summary: Snippets of Calum and Ashton’s life together through Ashton’s eyes

it’s obvious i just can’t get enough of you (ao3) - nationalnobody E, 8k

Summary: It’s 6PM and Calum is angry. Calum isn’t an angry guy but there is only so much Michael Clifford Bullshit ™ that one human being can physically take. Being the super cool-headed and level guy he is, he heads to the gym to wind down and relax. Everything is going peachy until a fucking sex deity with curly hair has to bend over across the room and destroy any shred of cool in his body.

I turned my good side in (ao3) - CliffordAffliction E, 3k

Summary: Calum’s dreams come true when Ashton fucks him at a party

i want you (bless my soul) (ao3) - jbhmalum E, 16k

Summary: Thankfully the elevator comes to a stop before Ashton can combust from the blood flowing through his body or say something else awfully embarrassing like “hi, I’m Ashton and I like tall attractive men and it’s hard finding them when you’re already a giant but you’re actually tall and I can’t stop looking at you and you just winked at me and hi, would you marry me and pin me against the wall?”.

- In which Ashton moves in with a guy named Michael, Michael is in love with Luke and annoyed at Calum, and the guy with shaved blue hair from the elevator is too hot for Ashton to know what to do about it.

Ready, princess? (ao3) - orphan_account M, 1k

Summary: After Calum almost calls Ashton 'daddy' in the middle of an interview, he has to be punished.

Subject Line - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) E, 20k

Summary: Maybe the sunrise doesn’t matter much after all. Calum can watch the sunrise any day. How many days will he get Ashton like this? Shirtless, sporting bedhead in a hotel room, with just the two of them for a few lazy hours alone?

Soon enough, they’ll be back on the tour bus and Calum won’t be allowed to hold Ashton’s hand anymore.

Try With A Little Tenderness (ao3) - orphan_account E, 6k

Summary: The boys are finally relaxing after their tour’ they’re back in Australia, and all they want to do is go back to the beaches they grew up on and have some fun in the sun.

However, Ashton has a different idea for what fun he wants to do in the sun.

You Won't See Me Fall Apart (ao3) - outlawofideal E, 4k

Summary: He drinks the coffee from an hour earlier while waiting because no one wants fresh coffee at midnight. It takes more than usual for him to appear. But he is here and it's real again.

Or the one Calum always waits for Ashton to come back, when it happens everything is usually better.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #ashton irwin #smut #sex tw #cashton #cashton smut #cashtonsmut masterlist #cashton masterlist #masterlists

[thompsborn]

!! the return of harley “daddy issues” keener (or is it mostly new angst? or mostly, like, physical?)

okay i love all these anons but also i am trying So Hard to not spoil things omg. please send more but also if i lowkey spoil something eventuallly it’s not my fault !! it actually definitely is entirely my fault but shhh

but anyways, kind of and also kind of not?

so like, in to build a family harley and peter are teenagers, but not like homeward bound. they’re high schoolers still, yk? they’re younger and haven’t gone through all the things that homeward bound harley and peter have gone through. i only bring up tbaf because obviously harley has Daddy Issues™ in tbaf. even before the second fic when his dad dies and he has to deal with that—in the first fic there’s a part where harley reminds his sister of their dad bc of how he left to go to new york and it’s this whole moment, yk? but he’s younger in tbaf and since tbaf is like not at all canon compliant to the mcu, they’ve gone through a lot less in comparison to hb, yk?

i say all that because while daddy issues are an ongoing lifelong thing for homeward bound harley, they aren’t as detrimental or as Big as they are in tbaf or other fics i’ve written where that comes up. hb harley is still effected by his daddy issues but he’s 18, he’s in college, he died for 5 years and came back to find out tony died, he has some family stuff that will be further explored and explained in the sequel with his mom and sister, and now also he has peter and the knowledge that peter is spider-man and the heaviness that comes with peter’s tragedies and past as well.

it’s a heaviness he’s okay with, don’t get me wrong, he’s more than happy to be there for peter and to learn these things and has been curious about peter since the first time peter walked into late night (again, will be explained more in the sequel!) but it’s heavy nonetheless, you know?

essentially, in the grand scheme of things, while he’s still impacted by his daddy issues, he also just… doesnt care anymore? like not caring doesn’t erase the impact but also he barely thinks of his dad and when he does he doesnt feel angry or upset or any of the things he felt in the past about his dad leaving, he just… doesnt care. he’s been through so much at this point that it’s just Another Thing. he’s desensitized to it to the point that like, why does it matter? it doesn’t.

there’s a part in hb, i can’t remember which chapter but it’s a small texting segment in one of the chapters where harry talks about him harley and peter making a no dad’s club for funsies and in that text convo harley mentions that he has a dad he just doesnt know where he is and doesn’t care enough to find out.

also, to answer that last part—it’s new angst that includes physical stuff! there’s gonna be… a lot lmao. i have a lot of things planned for this series, a lot of ideas taken from various comics, from the movies, from the games, etc. i’m even planning to read through plotlines for some of the animated series to see if there’s any additional ideas to draw from there.

but like, think of it this way, i guess: harley cares. a LOT. like some of his remaining daddy issues have developed in the form of being a bit slow to trust new people, but like he’s mentioned in the fic, once he chooses to care about someone, he is ALL IN. he is COMMITTED. and now that he knows about peter being spidey and is actively choosing to be involved in that, his instincts and his heart are going to want to do anything and everything he can to help.

okay actually sorry this answer is SO long BUT i remembered something i had harley say and i went back and looked and in chapter three he tells peter “my Mama says I have the heart of a protector” and THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT IM TRYING TO CONVEY HERE LMAO so THAT is who he is at heart yk?

and peter is gonna be in a lot of dangerous situations as spidey, and as the series goes on people connected to him are going to be in danger because of spidey, and essentially like…. a lot of emotions and a lot of angst and a lot of potential for getting hurt, yk?

i need to stop here because i keep almost saying fuck it and giving an example that is definitely a spoiler but yeah. take that as you will (:

#parkner #homeward bound fic #also like……. ok this definitely leans more into heavy spoiler territory but like #the newest spidey game right? very good very fun to play i plan to play it multiple more times #but some aspects of it have helped to inspire ideas i already had but werent sure how to implement #such as. potentially. a symbiote related plot line. #i haven’t decided for sure tbh because if that kind of plot were to happen it wouldnt be until the 3rd or 4th fic #but just….. ideas. i have them. and they include harley obvious as he is one of the main characters. #but if that storyline happens harley angst would definitely be a big thing there lmao