#fixed her skin tone a lil

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

#teepods.writings #fics. #geto x reader #geto x you #geto angst #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[teatreeoilll]

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲 (𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • .

w/c - 0.6k content - MDNI! 18 + ! fem!reader, porn, sub!Choso, lil crack at the end because hehe, quick drabble because this anemic man is really too cute ahh

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . °

You were gorgeous and naked, letting out loud, lewd moans on top of Choso so shamelessly he thought he was going to empty himself inside you each time you lowered yourself teasingly slow on his sensitive cock. He couldn't remember how you ended up on top of him - but he was so desperate to keep it going that he dug his fingers deep into your thighs as he groaned, "Fuck, like that - Fu - ck, please don't stop - "

"Hmm?" You halted your movements, grinding against his groin one last time before bending down to face his crimson-colored features as you murmured with a devilish smirk, "What is it, Cho?"

"Don't - ah - " He bit his lip, his eyes fixed on the way his cock disappeared into your body, "Don't stop." His hands reached to grab your waist as he desperately tried to lift you up again, "Please."

You placed a finger on his lips, gliding it softly against them to release his bottom lip from the grip of his teeth, "You'll hurt yourself if you do that," you breathed into his ear, "I said I'd go slow so that wouldn't happen, right?"

He twitched inside you at the sweet tone of your words, pushing his hips up, but straddled by your weight, it was barely the friction he was looking for, "Please," he choked out again, "let me - "

"M-mm," You shook your head, running your fingers soothingly through his hair, "will you be a good boy?"

He could barely speak, his glazed eyes locking themselves with yours, "I - will - " he rasped out as you lifted your hips up to sink down on his cock again, "Just - shit - " he groaned when you resumed your pace, clenching against his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth, digging your fingers deep into his chest.

"Will you be a good boy for me, Cho?" You repeated, biting back your moans, "Say it," you breathed, your voice mixing with the squelching sounds filling the room, "Say it for me, Cho,"

Choso was dizzy. The heat spreading under his skin threatened to burn holes through his body the more you raised and lowered your hips. He relished in the bounce of your breasts and the little beads of sweat forming on your forehead, a reminder of how hard you worked to make him feel so good, "I'm - fuck," he panted, "I'm your good - "

-

"Wake up," Yuji rasped, still trying to blink the sleep off of his eyes as he furrowed his brows, hovering over Choso's flushed face, "nightmares again?"

It took Choso a moment to release the iron grasp he had on the sheets, still getting accustomed to the sudden silence of the bedroom, "I - uh - brother," he muttered, his mind still plagued with your image. No matter how hard he tried, every time he blinked, the same scene appeared in his mind. It couldn't be, could it?

Yuji's expression grew more worried the longer he didn't get an answer, "That bad?"

Choso straightened up in his bed, "I keep seeing her."

"Seeing who?" Yuji puzzled.

"(Y/N)," Choso uttered, his expression turning solemn, "Is she our sister?"

"Huh? Why do you keep thinking everyone's related to you?" Yuji asked, his hand coming up to rub his temple - oh, oh. "Is she naked when you see her?"

"She is," Choso quickly affirmed.

"Dear god," Yuji muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, just - " Yuji locked eyes with him, "She not - just - " shit, how do I - never mind - "Nobody's related to anybody, just go back to sleep, yeah?"

#choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x female reader #choso kamo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you

[ghouljams]

PLEASE CAN WE HAVE MORE KÖNIG WITH HIS LIL DEMON

I will always write more of König and Fetch.

König jolts in his chair, knees hitting the underside of his desk as your hands slide over his thighs. He looks down at you in a panic, your eyes glowing in the relative shadow of his desk, then across the wood at the Lieutenant standing at attention. The soldier's nerves and concern radiate off of him, eyes fixed to König as he tries to put his composure back together. KorTac runs a tight ship, König runs a tight ship, he can't have his men thinking he's got... women under his desk. Or one woman in particular. A very determined one who rubs her cheek against his knee and attempts to push closer.

"Dismissed Lieutenant." König tells the man.

"But Colonel, I haven't finished my-"

"Dismissed." König says more forcefully, the man straightens past perfect and nods before artfully scrambling out of the office. König sags back against his chair, drags a hand down his covered face. You are going to be the death of him.

"Fetch," he groans, exasperation coloring his tone, "What are you doing Schöne?"

"You seem tense." You nuzzle closer against his thigh, pulling yourself further from the shadows. König rests his elbow on the arm of his desk chair, his cheek against his knuckles as he stares you down. 

"I have been out of the field for," he takes a deep breath, rubs his eyes, "too long now." You hum, and fingers dragging up his thighs to his belt. "You will excuse me if I am-"

"Tense."

"Not entertaining you." König corrects. You pout, your fingers stilling. You don't need entertaining, that's just rude. You've been perfectly content sitting in König's shadow while he did all his silly busy work. You listened to all the stupid whining from the other KorTac operators, and watched your commanding officer give orders with an ever growing hunger. 

To say you were obsessed with the brutal efficiency with which König operated was an understatement. If you'd thought it was only his kills which had bought him a demonic companion you were witnessing first hand how incorrect an assumption that was. You've never seen a man command such degrees of respect and fear.

"Then let me entertain myself." König hums, eyes flicking to the door. You're getting better at reading him, but you can't tell if that's anxiety or amusement in his eyes.

"Lock the door, Fetch." He says after a moment. You hardly waste the time it would take to get up, flicking your wrist in the general direction of the office door to hear the metal click of the lock turn. The rest of your focus is on opening König's belt. He slides forward, closer to the edge of the chair, legs spreading wider on either side of you. You're not one to pass up an open invitation.

You pull his cock free of his pants and whine at the sight of it. Even soft he's a beast of a man. At some point you have to find whoever matched you to him and thank them. Truly they are doing the devil's work. 

You push up onto your knees and press your lips against the length of his cock, tongue darting out to taste his skin with a pleased hum. König wraps a hand around one of your horns, a firm reminder of his authority. Not that you need it. Oh no you are always well aware of his status as your superior officer and summoner. That's half the fun of being summoned in the first place, knowing you're at his command, or at his feet in this particular instance. 

"I told you Schöne, I can't entertain you." He reminds you, setting the paper down to sign before picking up another. You pull off with a frown, that gets his attention. König pushes at your horn, tipping your head back to look at him with a smile in his eyes. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” He clarifies, “I meant do whatever you want.”

Your drooling is working well for you so far, slicking König's quickly hardening cock enough to stroke it. His thick length is already too much to get your fingers all the way around. You're better with your mouth anyway, always mindful of your teeth when you close your lips around the head of his cock to suck. Tongue circling while your hand twists and pumps his length. You just remember to glance at König, too focused on your work. He's reading over a report, eyes scanning the paper as you bob your head down his cock. You whine, desperate for a shred of his attention.

Your eyes go wide. Whatever you want? He nods, and pulls your horn to press your face against his cock. As previously mentioned, you’re not one to pass up an open invitation. Quick to start pumping his cock with your fingers again as you duck your head to lick his balls. Dragging your tongue along the thin sensitive skin, feeling the texture of his coarse hair. Whatever you want? Oh you are going to worship him. Whatever you want means König cumming is not the end goal. Besides, he has to work.

You’re not meant to be let off leash. He’s supposed to give you orders, not hand you the reins. You trace every line and vein of his cock with your tongue, press languid kisses along the length of him, absolutely lose yourself in the taste and feel of him. Sweat, salt, military issue soap and the bitterness of pre-cum coat your tongue and fill your nose. König keeps you well fed but you haven’t seen battle in weeks. Now the lazy waves of lust that roll through him with the roll of your tongue feel like the best meal you’ve had in years.

You squeeze your fingers around the base of his cock as you wrap your lips around the head, easing your way down with fluttering lashes. You swallow, tongue rubbing against the underside of his cock until you reach your fingers. Then your hand drops to your lap and you still with your nose against his pubic bone, enjoying the feeling of being full. The heavy cock on your tongue, the ache in your jaw, the pressure of him stretching out your throat… You purr around him, earning a very pleased hum from König above you.

His hand leaves your horn to pet your hair as you cockwarm him. Your thoughts are fuzzy, your skin warm, all of you lulled by an affectionate hand, the scent of him, and a cock down your throat. Your fingers slip between your legs, lazy and indulgent, rubbing the slick from your cunt along your slit to circle your clit. When König is done with his work he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you for being so needy, you want to be ready.

#demon!darling au #könig mw2 #colonel könig #oc: fetch #König #König x oc #König x reader #könig smut #Nobody talk to me about König being minorly ooc #I think he's got a “work mode” that lets him function like a normal person #y'know like a customer service personality #but for the fucking military #how did this man pass his psych evals #I don't think he did I think they just couldn't not let him kill people #Fetch is so fucking obsessed with this man #And he treats her like a pet #unlike Ghost who treats Die like a helpful annoyance

[eddiesbug]

Billy x girlfriend reader who loves to ride him and is trying her absolute best to be quiet because Max and El are a few rooms down and afterward she makes dinner for them and El goes “We’re those happy screams” and Billy can’t stop laughing at her embarrassed expression😭

this was supposed to be short but it’s actually quite long i’m v sorry anon (GAH IM NOT HAPPY W THE ENDING BUT U KNOW IM POSTING ANYWAYS)

content warnings: smut 16+ (p in v), oral (m receiving) mild dacryphilia, (kind of) breathplay (??), face fucking, billy’s a lil bit soft for reader<33

“F-fuck!” you squeal, head lolling as you bounce yourself with vigour onto Billy’s cock. His hands guide your hips at a brutal pace, lifting and dropping you back onto him until you’re crying.

His broad hand flies to cover your drooling mouth in an effort to keep you quiet; he grunts, cradling the back of your head with the other hand and pulling you to the juncture of his neck. He removes the hand from your kiss bitten lips as soon as he’s got you firmly fixed against his skin and you begin to mouth at his jaw, sucking, kissing, biting.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs lowly, clasping your hand in his as you grab for his hair. “‘ve got ya, calm down.”

“Feels too good,” you mumble, teary eyed. He coos mockingly, the gentle thumb that comes up to push away your tears contrasting his mean tone.

“My baby’s fucked dumb already?” You nod, too high on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you to register that he’s teasing. It’s not long until your legs ache and you start to slow, frustrated by how close you are but not quite being able to get there.

“‘s alright, just hold on to me,” Billy instructs, pushing you back and fucking up into you meanly. You try your utmost to keep quiet until Billy sticks three calloused digits down your throat, stretching your mouth to accommodate them. The action alone makes you clench around him; the vibrations of your moans against his fingers go straight to his cock. He laughs. “Fuckin’ slut, you like bein’ treated like a stupid whore?”

Your noises are high and strung out and completely incoherent; he slows and deepens his movements, hitting the sweet spot inside of you that has you turning white hot and seizing up.

“Mmh, cumm-ing…” you manage to choke out around his fingers.

You squirm and convulse, trying to push him away, but he fucks you through it, letting you pull cruelly at his curly locks as you thrash. Once your sounds grow short and sharp, he knows you’ve had enough and pulls out, tugging at his dick.

“In my mouth,” you breathe out. “Please.” He smirks, pulling you to the end of your bed so your tear streaked face hangs off of the edge. He grabs two fistfuls of your hair, pushing in until he hits the back of your throat.

“Shit, fuckin’ tight, jesus,” he swears, using your throat as a fleshlight. Every time you gag around him, he moans. “Oh, yeah. This keepin’ that slutty mouth quiet?”

You’d answer if you could, but you’re preoccupied with stifling your gurgling sounds as you gasp for air, nose pressed against his balls.

“Good girl, fuck, that’s it.” He pushes all the way in, holding your nostrils shut as he shoots his load straight down your throat with a stuttered moan. You slap at his thighs, your head growing fuzzy the longer he cuts off your air supply, until eventually he lets go, grinning as you crawl up the bed and gasp.

He sits himself next to you, opening his arms ever so slightly. It’s the most invitation you’ll get from him, so you take it, crawling into his lap. It’s quiet as you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his neck, until he breaks the silence with a,

“You did good.”

Your eyelids flutter and you give him a dopey smile; you startle when you feel his own arms wrap around you and tug your naked form closer. Cuddling is a completely new concept for him; he seems to enjoy being this close to you, almost as though you’re one person.

You give yourself a minute to enjoy his closeness, eyes shut as you doze quietly against him, and then you’re pushing yourself away despite his almost silent protests.

“Where are you going?” he asks as you pull your clothes back on, doing your best to hide the array of bruises littered over your skin.

“I told the girls I’d make them dinner, remember?” You snag one of his t-shirts and pull it over your head, inhaling his strong scent of cheap cologne and cigarettes.

“Yeah, I remember.” He stands and pulls his clothes back on, kissing your jaw.

It’s mostly quiet as you get to work on dinner for the girls. Billy sits and watches you from the table, lips quirking into a smile as you hop around, plating things up and setting the table.

You call the girls for dinner and they bound down the stairs eagerly, sitting opposite where you and Billy have situated yourselves. They eat in silence, every so often exchanging snickers that have you cocking an eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?”

El turns to face you, leaning forward slightly. Her eyes widen and her lips part as she whispers, as though the two of you are sharing a secret.

“Were those happy screams?”

You choke on a mouthful of pasta, hands flying to cover your stricken face. You can just about make out Billy’s smug, grinning expression from beside you and you elbow him. He laughs, leaning towards El.

“Yeah, those were very happy screams.”

“Billy, shut up!”

“What?”

You’re mortified, and you spend the rest of the meal dead silent, your face burning.

“Babe, it’s not a big deal,” Billy laughs, seemingly amused by your humiliation.

“Yeah, for you! Cos you can be all smug about it. It’s embarrassing for me!”

Max coughs, nudging your foot under the table.

“It’s okay. If it’s any consolation, we didn’t even hear that much.”

You hide your face, rigid as Billy tugs you into his lap. The rumble of his chest as he laughs makes you purse your lips primly and bat at his chest.

“You’re so mean!”

“It’s funny!”

#billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove smut #fanfic #imagines #writers on tumblr #writing #fiction #fem!reader #billy hargrove #billy x you #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy x reader #billy hargrove concept #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things masterlist #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove blurb #stranger things drabble #stranger things blurb #notsfwlily

[salamandergoo]

This was written in snippets on a discord server, thought I’d clean it up and slap it here! Haven’t been able to stop thinking about roadie Steve 💕 There’s a lil bit of spice in here, just to keep things fun :)

Steve, after everything that happens, doesn’t really know what he wants to do. Working at Family Video is… fine, but Robin is finished with her gap year and now she’s getting acceptance letters and scholarship offers from colleges and trying to decide where to go.

She keeps asking him if he’ll be okay and Steve tells her to go because he’s excited for her! She’s excited too! And yeah, they’ve had nights where she stays over with him and they cry about how they won’t get to be attached at the hip, but they can’t stay in Hawkins, it’s not realistic. They’ll never be… okay, if they stay.

She goes off to college and absolutely loves it, she thrives there, and they’re in constant touch, but Steve feels like he’s lost a part of himself. His platonic soulmate, the woman he’s so used to just… being there, is gone. So when he’s invited to a Corroded Coffin gig, he jumps in, thinking that if nothing else, it’ll be a solid distraction from his wallowing.

They’ve played a few cities in Indiana, a frontman accused of satanic murders is pretty great for their image surprisingly enough, they’re just waiting for Gareth to finish school before they jump in fully. The show is pretty local, just barely outside of Hawkins city limits, but it’s refreshing for Steve to be… somewhere else, just for a night. And the gig is fun! Steve can’t hear the words to the songs too well, can’t keep up with the music so great, but he can feel it in his chest. And he loves the energy of it.

Partway through, something goes wrong with one of the amps and they’re trying to get it fixed. Steve offers to give them a hand, and in just a few minutes and some tinkering he has it working again. And the pats on the back from the guys and the bright smile from Eddie sparks something in Steve.

The next day, he finds himself in the library, checking out books on electrical equipment and instruments and anything he can think of, and starts reading up. By the time Gareth graduates and CC has a few shows set up, Steve comes along. He’s able to handle any technical difficulty they come across, he’s the guy making sure it all goes smoothly.

And suddenly they’re recording their first album and blowing up and Steve is their go to guy for live shows, he’s the first person on their payroll. For awhile, he’s the only one, he runs everything that isn’t playing music, but eventually, a few more hands are needed.

Eddie makes it clear that Steve is in charge, naturally trusting him to be the head of the road team.

The band is doing great and soon enough they’ve upgraded from Eddie’s van and Jeff’s station wagon to an actual tour bus. Eddie is so amped about it and it’s hard not to let his energy be infectious.

Of course, driving across hours of plains dims some of the excitement, but Eddie and Steve start to come up with… interesting ways to pass the time. Ever since they left Hawkins, Steve’s eyes have been wandering a bit. Turns out metal heads are his type, who could’ve guessed?

At first it was making out in an alley in Indy with a girl who had shaved hair and piercings shoving him against the wall and making him beg to eat her out. Then it was the boy in a leather jacket in the mosh pit in the middle of summer, sweat slick skin covered in ink and a gentle hand but commanding voice in a motel room. And then it was his own fantasies, covering his mouth as he touched himself in a shared hotel room bathroom thinking about Eddie, who else?

So there’s an ongoing game of gay chicken and Eddie hasn’t been quiet about his own conquests along the way. It’s little things, Steve shifting a little closer to Eddie on the bus, a hand on the thigh that creeps upwards, whispering in hushed tones just a little too close.

It finally snaps in California, a sold out show attended by Argyle and Jonathan (who moved back out west a few months after the world didn’t end). They’re slipped a few “party favors” before heading off to a motel for the night, a reprieve from the rumbling, uncomfortable mattresses on the bus. One of the rooms only has one bed because of a booking issue and before anyone can complain, Eddie snatches the key and declares that “Stevie’s with me”.

So the band splits up to go to the rooms, Eddie has to wait while Steve inspects the bed closely to make sure there’s nothing gross, and then they settle in, still sticky with sweat and buzzing with adrenaline. Eddie lights a joint and teases Steve a little with the way he groans and sighs as he takes a hit, but Steve gives as good as he gets

He straddles Eddie’s lap and asks to shotgun in this pretty, lilting voice, cocking his head in a way that makes his eyes, sparkling with mischief, catch the light just so. And Eddie isn’t going to deny a pretty boy on his lap, not when he’s seen Steve in those tight jeans. He takes another hit and tugs him in by the shirt collar, breathing out the thick smoke into Steve’s waiting, parted lips. And Eddie is treated to the sight of thick eyelashes fanned against freckles cheeks, the expanse of pale skin on Steve’s neck as he tilts his head back to avoid blowing the smoke back in Eddie’s face.

And Eddie can only restrain himself so much as he leans in and kisses the faded scar that cuts across Steve’s adams apple. Steve licks his lips and is looking at Eddie’s mouth when he opens his eyes and something between them snaps. He leans in and whispers, “kick me if I’m misreading this” before kissing Eddie on the lips. It’s firm, but not messy, charged and searching. Eddie has to take a second to remember how to move his limbs, holding Steve tight around the waist, careful not to bump the lit joint against his shirt.

He kisses back, but it’s not enough, he needs more, wants to ride out the low thrum of the coming high with Steve. He pulls back just long enough to take another hit and lifts a hand to cup Steve’s jaw. He breathes the smoke out, letting his tongue trace Steve’s lip as he takes it. Steve holds the smoke like a fucking expert, tangling his tongue with Eddie’s as he lets the smoke back out from the corner of his mouth. Eddie distantly wonders if he looks like a dragon like that, a thought that has him giggling. And then it’s really hitting him that he’s 1) a rockstar 2) making out with his high school crush Steve Harrington and 3) absolutely rock hard.

Judging by the pleased expression on Steve’s face when they part for air and the way he grinds his hips down slow and teasing, he definitely noticed that last part.

#steddie #steddie fic #roadie Steve Harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things #corroded coffin

[coconutcordiale]

steady pt three (i keep all my affection in a paper cup)

pt one | pt two | pt three | masterlist | prequel

pairing- rooster x female bartender!reader (no y/n)

synopsis-

You want to tell her you know how she feels, it’s truly unfair for someone to look this good with that mustache. There’s a bead of sweat rolling down his neck to his collarbone and you want nothing more than to follow it with your tongue. Alice looks like she agrees with you.

Completely unaware of his own effect, Bradley just swipes his card.

warnings- 18+ minors DNI, unprotected sex oops, light daddy kink/bradley bradshaw is a soft daddy dom that just wants to take care of his girl this is the hill i'll die on, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), lil bit of praise kink (can i write smut without someone -especially rooster- saying good girl, prob not), breeding kink if you squint but like...don't it's like half a line & i'm scared of kids so it's not really breeding kink idk, no kink negotiation here so not a good example of what you should do irl, brief mention of past infidelity (no current cheating)

length- 5.6k ish

an- i can't believe this is over this is literally the most difficult thing i've ever written, also for real publix sandwiches are the goat i wouldn't share mine with bradley. I’m sorry the end was so cheesy I hate myself lol ok ily all bye

this chapter title is also from only for a moment by lola marsh lmao i basically wrote 15k based on one song that's less than 3 minutes long

You slam the door a little harder than necessary when you get to the rental car.

“Did you get the closure you needed?” Bradley asks tentatively, probably wary of the chaos you know is simmering under your skin.

“Closure from another person is a myth,” you answer firmly. “Only you can give yourself closure.”

“So, no, in other words.”

You appreciate that he’s at least trying to keep the amusement out of his voice as you repeat his cheesy quotes back to him, but it's short-lived because everything feels too small, too suffocating in the muggy Austin air.

You almost don't tell Bradley, but a part of you recognizes you need to get the words out. That someone else needs know about you and Jake so it doesn't subsist only in your eyes, so it doesn't blind you as it disrupts your field of vision, bright spots of an incoming migraine.

“He said he’s in love with me.”

His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and you raise an eyebrow.

After a beat he relaxes, tone frustratingly even. “Bold, considering he’s still married, right?”

“Bold,” you scoff. “That’s one way to put it. I didn’t bother to ask. No ring, but we all know how you pilots are about rings.”

“Why?”

You shrug. Because it doesn’t matter.

“I want to ask you something, but you have to promise not to get mad at me,” he continues, gaze fixed on the road.

Even though you know you’re unlikely to get mad at him, you grumble anyways. “No promises.”

“I’m not trying to sound judgmental. You obviously loved him. But can I ask, why you stayed so long? Wasn’t it excruciating?”

Loved. Past tense. You're surprised as you realize how true that feels, that Jake has maybe, finally, become someone you loved and not someone your heart still beats for.

“I’ve never been in a serious relationship before,” you admit, softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “At a certain point, maybe I started to think there was something wrong with me, a reason I wasn’t worth the effort of a real relationship. Like maybe what I had with Jake was better than I would ever get from someone else.”

You hear a pained noise from him, but barrel on, knowing if you don’t get the words out right now, they may live inside you forever.

“It wears on you after awhile. My guy friends are always acting sarcastic about it, wow must be so horrible to be pretty, so shitty that everyone wants to sleep with you. People say it enough, men confirm it with their actions, and eventually, you start to feel like that’s all you’re worth.

You shudder; you’ve never admitted that out loud before.

"I know what it looks like, but it was more than sex. I’d just never felt that way about anyone before.”

Bradley pulls into the parking lot of your hotel, but you’re staring straight ahead, admission having frozen you in place.

“I don’t know how to make you believe you’re worth more than that. Seresin was practically falling apart, and he hasn’t even seen you in almost a year, for fuck’s sake. Those guys that missed out on knowing you, they’re morons.”

He pauses and takes a deep breath, looks over at you and you feel his dark eyes burning into the side of your face.

“Cali, I—if you think he’s being serious, if you want to be with him, I know it’s complicated, but I have your back.”

Any ice that was thawing around you suddenly frosts again.

“You think I should try to work things out,” you say slowly. “With Jake.”

He flinches. “That’s what you’re taking from—fuck, never mind. I didn’t say that. I just want you to know I’m here for you, whatever you decide.”

Your stomach is sinking and you’re not entirely sure why.

“Thank you,” you manage to murmur, squeezing his forearm affectionately before getting out of the car, worried he’ll see the tears forming in your eyes.

It stays sunk as you get back to your hotel room, as you get ready for bed silently, as you bury yourself under the covers and turn your back to him.

He feels miles away in the other bed, somehow farther away than he does with a flight of stairs separating you at home in Florida.

Sure, a mini vacation to a wedding (even if it is to Texas of all places) is a little intense for friends, but that’s yours and Bradley’s thing if you’re being honest. You guys have spent the last six months being a little intense and over-committed. Being the only things to pull each other out of the dark places you longed to hide in.

You agreed to come, as a friend. It’s not like you guys pretended to be dating, it’s not like he didn’t introduce you to everyone as his friend from Florida.

You’re not sure when you started hoping for more, when you started thinking there was something promising constructing itself in the space between your apartments.

+

Rooster immediately knows it was a mistake to visit you at work. But you’re working the early shift and things have been so off since you guys got back from Texas. It’s like you’ve retreated into your shell, like you’ve put back on every layer he spent months peeling away.

You smile when you see him, but there’s something hollow in it, something not all there.

He’s pretty sure he overstepped asking you about Jake, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up again, how to apologize without making it worse.  

He couldn’t help it; he saw how Jake looked at you. Understands how Jake feels, knows all too well the magnetic pull of you, the involuntary twitch of fingers to touch you. But the way you stole glances after you stopped panicking at his presence…well he’s fairly certain you’ve never looked at him the way you tried to hide you were looking at Jake.

He felt all the air empty from the room the moment you two were aware of each other's presence.

Bradley doesn’t know how to compete with a love like that.

Despite all that he can’t stay away from you, can’t spend another night in his apartment wondering what you’re thinking.

Unfortunately, that means he’s in a touristy tiki bar, politely letting a girl chat him up while you busy yourself making sweet cocktails with overcomplicated garnishes just out of his line of sight.

She’s pretty. And nice. She’s drinking a Jungle Bird which he knows you don’t detest making, so he doesn’t feel bad when she orders another to stick around and talk to him. She laughs at his jokes and doesn’t tell him he’s an idiot for not liking The Office. As far as he can tell (given that he met her about five minutes ago) there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her.

Except for the fact that she’s not you, of course.

She excuses herself to the bathroom and you make your way over to his side of the bar, wordlessly putting a fresh beer in front of him.

“You should ask her out,” you suggest. “She’s gorgeous.”

Bradley stalls, blinks twice. His tongue is suddenly sticking to the roof of his mouth. “You think so?”

You roll your eyes. Usually, he secretly loves how much you roll your eyes, the fire that’s always lit behind them. Loves the bratty disposition you manage to express with one little look. He’s always liked how expressive your features are, how he can read your mood before you even say a word.

Right now though, it just makes him uneasy.

“Everyone thinks so, look at her.”

“No—that’s not what I—” he stutters. “I meant, you really think I should ask her out?”

“Yeah, she obviously likes you. It’s not like she’s going to say no.”

Bradley hates the way his heart sinks at your suggestion, but nods anyways, choosing not to correct your assumption that he’s stammering with nervousness over this girl he just met. He desperately wants to change the subject, to make sure he’ll be able to see you outside of the shell you put on for work.

“I have your suitcase at home if you want to get it after work. Sorry, I forgot it was still in the Bronco when I left the other morning.”

When he left for work after carrying your sleeping form up to his apartment, not wanting to risk waking you by searching for the keys to your place, because you looked too peaceful for him to wake up after the flight back.

He forced himself to sleep on the couch, despite how pretty you looked in his bed, how badly he wanted to crawl in with you, tell his students he got stuck in Texas, and keep you in bed with him forever.

He walks home when you tell him you'll come by after Beth takes over, after Jungle Bird slides him her number on a napkin, hoping it’ll clear his head. Sits on the beach, watches the sky darken over the water. Wonders if he should play it cool and wait to text her. Wonders if he even wants to text her at all.

He knows he’s ready to date again after Lauren, has been for a while now, so eventually, he does text, because pining after you isn’t going to get him anywhere.

He thinks he can be your friend, if that's all he's going to get.

He’s just barely gotten through his front door when you knock, sweaty and red-faced.

“Just got back from a run,” you tell him, clearly having seen the question perched on his lips. You’re still breathing a little hard and it’s sending his blood in the opposite direction of where he needs it to be going.

The sweat dripping down into the valley of your breasts is giving him decidedly not friendly thoughts.

“You hate running,” he says instead, brows furrowed.

You shrug. “Did you make plans with the girl from the bar?”

He rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward.

“Yeah,” he answers finally. “We’re going out this weekend.”

“That’s great,” you say flatly, immediately turning to leave, picking up your forgotten suitcase a little too aggressively, like it’s done something to offend you.

“Hey, wait, hold on.” Bradley reaches out for your arm, tugging gently and forcing you to stop in your tracks. “Are we in a fight right now? Is this about the wedding?”

“No,” you answer petulantly. You won’t meet his eyes, instead staring down at where his fingers encircle your wrist.

“No, we’re not in a fight or no, this isn’t about the wedding?”

“This isn’t about the wedding,” you reply through clenched teeth. “Not entirely, at least.”

He can’t help but let pride swell through him at your words, knowing a few months ago you would’ve lied about being fine until you were blue in the face.

It still feels like he’s taking a shot in the dark, a tiny flicker of hope igniting in his chest. “You told me to ask her out.”

You cringe, face twisting in pain like you just sucked on a lemon. “Only because you were pushing me to go back to Jake! I thought that was what you wanted. I thought—”

You’re breathing hard, but he’s pretty sure your chest is heaving with emotion, not from your run. Your mouth is open to continue when he says your name.

Not Cali. It sounds hard and serious as it passes his lips. You wince and he immediately feels bad.  

“Stop,” he continues firmly, determined not to lose his nerve at the hurt crossing your features, willing himself not to get worked up and loud. “Don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I was doing. I know we went to the wedding as friends, but it’s stupid to deny there’s been something building between us for a while now.”

Your expression softens and Bradley knows instantly that you feel it too.

“I just didn’t want you to shut the door on Jake out of some obligation to me. I want you to choose me, for me. Not because I’m not him.”

He sees the moment it clicks for you, the second you start seeing how the wedding must’ve looked through his eyes.

“I’ll never go back to Jake,” you say quietly. “For lots of reasons that have nothing to do with you.”

Something inside him unfurls, anxiety sitting in his stomach loosening, but he’s not done, can’t be done, until his intentions are crystal clear.

“What do you want? Do you even know? Because I know what I want.” He grabs your arms, turning your body to face him fully. Hooks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him as he tries to gather the courage to say this next part. “And I can’t settle for anything less. If you want casual, I can’t give you that.”

“I don’t want you to go out with her.” It’s as good as an admission from you, he knows that.

Dark eyes warm as the beginning of a smile stretches across his face. His chest is lightening, warmth bubbling within. “How come?”

“You’re smart enough to do the math,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. But there’s a bright, happy tinge edging at the corners of your mouth.

He’s full-on grinning now, reaching to pull you into him by the waist. He tucks his face into your hair, so you won’t see the giddy expression on his face. “Tell me anyways.”

“Want you all to myself,” you mumble, lips ghosting over his skin to make him shudder.

You might have more to say, but Bradley used all his patience flying today and his hand tilts your chin to him, lips covering yours before you can make another sound.

You make a tiny mewl in surprise against his mouth as he grips you, tongue sliding past your lips and his blood immediately rushes south.

Making a face when Bradley manages to pull himself away from your lips, you look down at your sweaty sports bra. “I need to shower.”

“Shower here,” he suggests. “I’ll make us dinner. You can spend the night, maybe? And I won’t sleep on the couch this time? I promise I’ll behave.”

Bradley sees his hopeful eyes mirrored back at him when he finally takes a chance to look at your face.

Things are so shakily composed between the two of you, that he’s somewhat afraid if he lets you go back downstairs to your apartment you’ll spiral and come up with a hundred reasons not to give you guys a shot.

Maybe he’s being insecure, sue him.

You seem to understand where he’s coming from, the tenuous connection hanging delicately in the air between the two of you. Nodding, your fingers play with the hem of his shirt fitfully before you rush to his shower, like if you waited for another second you might not be able to peel yourself off him.

He inflates with pride at that too.

Bradley overestimated his abilities, probably, when he promised to behave. He didn’t think about how hard it would be not to think about you naked in his shower while he seeks out ingredients to throw together for dinner.

Didn’t think about how good you’d smell, fragrant with his body wash as you wrap your arms around him from behind.

Bradley’s movements are shaky, and jerky when he turns around to kiss you. He clears his throat, and only just barely keeps himself from running his hands underneath the baggy top that hangs off your shoulders. “Is that my shirt?”

You freeze. “I…yes. Is that okay? I didn’t have anything with me, but I can run downstairs…”

You say something under your breath that he can’t quite make out. Your face is completely unreadable and Bradley’s body flashes hot and cold every other second.

“No, don’t, it, uh, looks good on you,” he says finally when he’s pretty sure he’s not going to rip it in the process of pulling it over your head.

Bradley’s taking deep breaths, using grounding techniques. He breathes in through his nose, and out through his mouth. He knows you’re not trying to tease him. You’re not doing anything, not really.

This is Florida, everyone is scantily clad more often than they’re not.

If he’s going to behave, he’s going to have to tap into that self-control he beat himself over the head with every time he saw you in a bikini before today.

It’s just so much worse now that he’s allowed to touch you.

“It’s hard, with you looking like that in my shirt. I want to fuck you stupid,” he admits.

Your mouth drops open in surprise.

“But I think we should take things slow. I don’t want to mess this up by jumping in before we’re ready.”

His cock twitches when he notices the disappointment you’re not trying very hard to hide.

“Okay,” you pout. “You’re probably right.”

You turn to open the fridge, leaning to grab a water and his shirt rides up a little higher on your already bare legs.

Bradley groans, head falling back to stare at the ceiling. “Baby, you’re killing me.”

+

You can’t believe how much you hated Florida beaches when you first moved. The Keys are beautiful, with endless white sand and clear water.

You convince Bradley to stop by Publix on the way back, with promises of pasta for dinner. You really just want a sub to take to work tomorrow, but you’re not going to tell him that.

The poor cashier practically swallows her tongue when she sees Bradley, shirt open over his bare chest and covered in sand, sunglasses sliding down his nose that’s pink from the sun. He makes sure to look at her name tag and smiles genuinely at her when he asks, Alice, how’s your day going?

You’re going to pass out.

You want to tell her you know how she feels, it’s truly unfair for someone to look this good with that mustache. There’s a bead of sweat rolling down his neck to his collarbone and you want nothing more than to follow it with your tongue. Alice looks like she agrees with you.

Completely unaware of his own effect, Bradley just swipes his card.

It’d be infuriating if it wasn’t so adorable.

This time you’re counting all the ways he’s not Jake, but it’s a good thing. Jake would’ve preened, leaned into smirk, just so he could see the blush rise on the poor girl’s cheeks.

It’s not that that’s bad, you know you do the same sometimes. Smirking at guys you know are giving you a once-over while you make their drinks, sparkle in your eyes because you don’t always hate the attention.

But it’s oddly endearing with Bradley, how he doesn’t seem to know the effect he has on people. Like he doesn’t fly multi-million-dollar planes for a living, like he couldn’t use that to get any girl he wanted in his bed.

He’s just being mean when you guys get to the car, flinging his unbuttoned shirt off and into the back of the Bronco and muttering something about tan lines.

Your mouth is watering.

When you get back to your complex, you snag his forgotten shirt and form a plan.

“Caliiiiiii,” Bradley sings as he bursts into your apartment. It’s a good thing you never listened to Beth about locking your front door because shirtless Bradley Bradshaw is a sight to behold. “Showered so you wouldn’t complain about—”

You hear him stop dead in his tracks at the entrance to your kitchen. When you look over your shoulder at him those plush lips are parted, eyes roaming over the back of you. You’re clad in one of his marginally less offensive button-ups (at least there aren’t any birds on it), thrown hastily over your bikini.

“How gentlemanly of you to shower for dinner with little ol’ me,” you giggle. “But I have to admit I haven’t had time for more than rinsing the sand off.”

He ignores you completely, tone accusing like you hadn’t spoken at all. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

You consider denying it but can’t fully hold back the smirk forming. “Well, you seemed to enjoy it when I wore your shirt last time.”

Bradley just nods dumbly.

“Anyways, don’t get too excited, this is one of three dishes I can actually make, but I thought we’d…” You trail off because he’s suddenly right behind you, crowding you so you feel the heat radiating from him as he brackets you with his arms.

“Nope,” he says tersely. “Dinner can wait. Turn off the stove.”

He turns you around so he can kiss you, slow and deliberate. His tongue slides between your lips assertively, hands tapping on your thighs as a sign for you to hop backward and up on the counter. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

“Wait, what?” You ask, but he’s already on his knees.

You should’ve known then and there he was going to be nothing but trouble.

The first time Bradley makes you come, you’re still in the kitchen. He’s kneeling with his face buried in your pussy, skimpy bathing suit bottoms long flung behind him, lips curled around your clit insistently even as your thighs clutch his head in a way that must be uncomfortable. After all his talk of wanting to wait and do things right, it’s almost funny. Would be, if your mind wasn’t currently busy whiting out.

The second time, he drags you to the living room before you’ve had any time to recover and pulls your back against his chest in front of the couch. The tall mirror in the corner of the living room displays the absolute debauchery unfolding on the floor in the middle of your apartment.

“Keep your legs open, baby. You can do that, right? Be good for me?”

You’re nodding before you even know what you’re doing, head jerking up and down like a bobblehead.

“Fuck, look at you,” he croons in between the nips he’s determinedly pressing on your neck. Barely even a command, you still look up, watching your reflection as his lips trace across the top of your shoulder, mustache leaving red marks in its wake. One hand is busy tugging the strings of your bathing suit top loose so he can toss it out of his way, while the other drifts to tease your inner thighs.

Bronze eyes meet yours in the mirror and he grins, like the cat that got the canary. “Gorgeous, darlin’.” And then he pushes two fingers into you without warning, the stretch making you keen as your head falls back on his shoulder. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve thought about you like this.”

“Ohmygo—Bradley.” You turn your head to kiss him, but it ends up being little more than your lips slotting together and you moaning straight into his mouth as he fucks his fingers in relentlessly, your hands gripping his arms like they can’t decide if they want to pull him in closer or push him away, oversensitive as you are from his mouth.

You sink into him, into his hands, his grip. Let it erase the gravity that keeps you tethered to the ground, let yourself flutter high above the clouds.

You don’t even realize how close you are until he curls his fingers inside you to graze that soft spot, thumbing at your clit. His other hand palms your tit and tweaks your nipple at the same time his teeth close on your neck and you’re done for, letting it crash into you, cunt clenching around his fingers and back arching away from his chest.

It takes you a few seconds to come down, eyes closed as you blindly turn your head in search of Bradley’s mouth. He kisses you sweetly, but briefly and you make a noise of discontent when he pulls away. You open your eyes to glower at him but when you do, you see a filthy gleam in his eyes that warms you straight to your core like you didn’t just come twice in two different rooms of your house.

His fingers are suddenly pressing at your lips, and you watch his eyes glaze over as you take them in and suck, licking your release from his fingers. You’re suddenly very, very aware of how hard he is behind you, thighs clenching at the realization that he’s straining against his shorts, grinding against your ass because he’s so turned on from getting you off.

God, he’s so perfect it’s not even fair.

His digits in your mouth are giving you your own wicked ideas, about returning the favor as you wriggle your way around to face him. It’s a good thing his other arm immediately goes to support you because you’re pretty sure your legs are made of jelly.

He seems to read your mind, or maybe just the way your cheeks hollow around his fingers as you look down to the bulge in his pants, lips already forming wicked promises as he pulls his hand away from you. “Next time, baby. Need to be inside you.”

The high-pitched whimper that leaves you at that would be embarrassing if you could currently remember that you have downstairs neighbors. You can’t, though, so who cares.

“Want you to ride me,” he grunts. “Have to see how gorgeous my girl looks bouncing in my lap. Can you do that for me?”

To be honest, you’re not sure you can. It’s a 50/50 chance your legs will give out the moment Bradley stops holding you up, but you want to, want to so badly.

You nod anyways, figuring odds are Bradley will catch you if you melt into the floor, and he swings around so he can lay flat on the rug. His shirt slips off your shoulders, getting trapped around your elbows as you lean forward to support yourself on his chest. You’re about to fling it off when he makes a strangled noise, hands going to bring the material back up.

“Baby, please.” There’s a little whine in Bradley’s voice that turns you inside out. “Keep it on.”

That sweetness, that little crack in his dominance is way hotter than it has any right to be.

You make quick work of his shorts, biting your lip as you pull him out, his tip red and leaking precum.

“Christ, Bradley, this how you got your callsign?” You manage to mumble as he pulls you up to balance your hand on his chest again.

The bastard winks. “I know you can take it. Been so good for me, why stop now?”

Using your free hand to guide you, you sink down slowly, not bothering to hold in the moans at the stretch of him.

Stars are bursting behind your eyes that are squeezed tight against the intensity of it, your slick walls are oversensitive and shaking already. Bradley’s hands are clenched on your hips, trying not to move before you’re ready.

You roll your hips, starting to find your rhythm, and he groans, head thumping back against the floor.

When he looks back up at you his eyes are almost completely black. “Look so fucking beautiful bouncing on my cock, darlin'.”

He reaches up to grab your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples just to make you squirm even more, before trailing his fingers down to your clit as he starts shifting up to meet the grind of your hips and it’s so much, too much, sending sparks straight through you.

You shudder. “Bradley—da—I can’t.”

There’s something knowing in his gaze, at your pace stuttering, at your half-formed words trying to claw their way out of your throat. He slows as you do, ever so slightly pulling his finger from your clit. “Need a break, baby?”

You bite your lip, refusing to meet his molten gaze, giving only a tiny shake of your head, trying to find your rhythm again.

When he smirks, you can feel it permeating the air around you. “That’s what I thought. One more, I know you can give me one more.”

He plants his feet flat on the floor behind you, giving himself the power and leverage to fuck you in earnest from below. You’re trembling, you know sounds are leaving your mouth, but you’ve no idea if they’re words at this point.

You’re not fluttering above the clouds anymore, you’re flying, speeding through, fast and hard and riotous.

Bradley’s voice is low and gravelly, but he’s looking up at you with reverence. “It’s okay, baby, you can let go. I’ve got you, gonna take care of my girl.”

“Daddy,” you whine, any sense of coherency, shame, or worry having left you two orgasms ago.

The sound that rips from Bradley’s chest at that is rough and guttural, hands going to your hips in a bruising hold. “That’s right, gonna come for daddy like a good girl, aren’t you?”

You’re nodding, babbling, keening yesdaddyyesfuckbradley— You dig your nails into his chest as it hits you. Electricity ripples under your skin, through your veins, dominoes cascading down and hitting every nerve ending in your body. It’s right on the edge of pain, body worn out and spent from tensing and releasing.

“Fuck, baby, so gorgeous when you come on my cock, gonna fuck my girl so full,” he grunts, big hands bouncing you like a ragdoll in his lap.

Even through the fog, his words hit you hard. “Fuck—please, daddy.”

His thrusts get shallower, wilder, before his back arches from the floor, mouth spilling incoherent praise, holding you down onto him as he spills inside of you.

You slump down onto him, the only sound in the room yours and Bradley’s heavy breathing.

You’re falling apart, body trembling and shaking, and you’re still on the floor. You’ve no idea how you’ll survive when Bradley finally takes you to a bed.

“Jesus,” he whispers. “And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any hotter.”

You flush pink immediately, wincing as you move to get off him, wetness sliding down your thighs. He scoops you up almost immediately, carrying you to the shower and mumbling under his breath about making sure to keep daddy’s cum inside of you.

“Oh my god, Bradley,” you whine. “I can’t go again."

The pasta is completely unsalvageable by the time you get out of the shower. He’s lucky you’re willing to share your precious sandwich with him.  

When you see your downstairs neighbor the next day, she immediately reddens and turns on her heel to get away from you.

+

You’re back at the beach when Penny gets a call from you.

“Burning off some energy,” you tell her when she asks what you’re up to. “I’ve had a lot of that lately.”

“Should’ve just let me introduce you to Rooster from the beginning.”

“Who says this has anything to do with Rooster?” You ask, even though both of you know you’re lying through your teeth.

“Nothing wrong with being happy, honey.” You can hear her smiling through the phone.

“I might actually be happy?” You joke. “Is that what this is?”

“You guys are in the honeymoon phase. Every song on the radio is about you, neither of you can do anything wrong—”

“Oh, he does plenty wrong, believe me—”

Penny isn’t bothering to hide her laugh anymore, but her tone is still soft and caring. “It’s sweet. Rooster’s a good guy. He’s been through a lot.”

“He is. I’m kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop,” you admit. “Wish I could just enjoy it.”

“It’s hard. You don’t give your heart away easily,” Penny responds like you’re easy to read, easy to understand.

Maybe you are.

“You wouldn’t be taking this chance unless he was worth it,” she adds when you don’t answer, too busy thinking about how maybe that mask you’ve always worn isn’t as opaque as you thought it was.

Maybe that’s fine. Maybe you really are as strong as you pretended to be with that mask.

That’s the thing about masks. Sometimes you realize they’re more a part of you than you ever thought. When you thought you were faking it the whole time.

“He’s definitely worth it.”

Rooster raises an eyebrow at you, having come back to the tree you’ve taken residence under.

“Talking about my other boyfriend,” you tease, trying not to get distracted by the swimsuit that seems to be riding lower than it was before he ventured into the water.

“Hand the phone to Rooster, I want to talk to him.”

You giggle, sticking it out in his direction. “Penny wants to talk to you.”

“If you think my loyalty here lies with you, you're sorely mistaken,” Penny says, warning dancing all over her tone.

“You don’t have to be worried, Pen.” Bradley looks at you, eyes warm, fingers drifting up your legs. “If anyone’s gonna get their heart broken here, it’s me.”

d a y 3 6 7

You don’t notice the date, but a year since you moved to Florida, almost to the day, you realize you’re in love with Bradley Bradshaw.

As it turns out, loving Bradley is like flying high above the clouds.

#rooster x you #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster angst #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster #steady

[a-writer]

Prisoner - Azriel x OC - Chapter 2

Hello!:) Chapter 2 of Prisoner. If you want to read the first part, here it is. Thanks!!! Enjoy:)

Warnings: a lil bit of torture, a lil bit of flirting.

“How is it possible that the Hewn City soldiers came to me saying that someone from Hybern had tried to steal some of the family heirlooms?” Azriel flipped his dagger in between his thumb and forefinger, a playful tone to his voice. “I thought we killed all of you.”

“You thought wrong.” Fiadh looked into his eyes, reminding herself to stay as calm as possible. The king himself had made sure that she wouldn’t break if she ever was captured.

Azriel kneeled in front of her, putting himself at eye-level. Fiadh studied his face. He was a handsome male, she’d give him that. His syphons casted a blue glow, making his cheekbones stand out. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the darkness of the cell and Fiadh’s hand twitched behind her back. For a second, she wanted to touch his face, run her finger across his hard jawline. Something nasty bloomed on her chest, had they given something to her that was fucking with her brain?

She knew that the tonic she was forced to drank when she arrived at the cell was to keep whatever powers she had at bay. But she could feel a buzz all over her body, and she knew that, if she wanted, she could make Azriel’s shadows turn against their master.

“Why did you try to steal the heirlooms?” Azriel pressed the tip of his dagger into Fiadh’s thigh.

“I was bored.” Fiadh shrugged one shoulder, giving Azriel a taunting smile.

“You think this is a joke? Maybe I should go, leave you here for a week, no food, no water. I’m sure you’ll be more than willing to cooperate after that.”

“And leave me without your amazing company? Oh, no!” Fiadh said dramatically, watching Azriel’s expression turn hard. Good. If he was pissed, he was more prone to get distracted enough for her to strike.

Azriel looked down just for a second, and when his eyes landed on her again, his expression was different. Something dark crossed his eyes and his mouth turned up into a cruel smirk, like he was ready to eat her whole. Fiadh would have swallowed if her mouth hadn’t been so dry.

“Are you enjoying my company?” His voice was low, almost sounding like a growl and Fiadh’s hands curled into fists.

She forced her breath to stay normal, focused on not getting too nervous. If her heart started pounding too fast, he would notice. She curved her lips into a smirk similar to Azriel’s.

“I enjoy the sight of you kneeling in front of me.” Azriel’s eyes widened just for a second at her response and she knew that she got him.

But before she could say anything else, Azriel’s dagger moved across her thigh, cutting her pants and the skin below. Fiadh let out a growl, cursing the male in front of her. She doubled over, sensing Azriel getting up. A shadow was curling on her left ankle, it was the perfect opportunity. Fiadh stayed doubled over, blocking out the pain from her leg as she concentrated and brought her power to the surface. She commanded the shadow slowly, her eyes fixed on the dark mist, making it snake in between the rope and her skin, breaking strand by strand of the cord. When her left ankle was free, she quickly commanded the one on her right to do the same, making the shadows spread to both her feet to cover what she had done.

She could feel her excitement bubbling up, she could do this. She straightened her back, a pained expression returning to her face. Blood was pouring down her leg, Azriel no longer in front of her. But he still was in the room. Fiadh could feel it, feel him, looming over.

Suddenly, she felt her head jerking back, Azriel’s hand holding her hair in a tight fist, her scalp burning from the hard tug.

“I would love to play with a little thing like you.” Fiadh felt his breath fanning over her face. “But I don’t have the time.”

His right hand came up, the cold blade of the dagger resting against Fiadh’s neck. She widened her eyes, her pulse now picking up pace. No, no, no. She had to think fast or the Shadowsinger would kill her. She closed her eyes, forcing all her power to come out. She could feel her body tingling with anticipation, and as the dagger dug just enough for a trickle of blood to slide across her neck, she exploded.

A wall of shadows burst out, sending Azriel toppling backwards. Fiadh stood up, her feet free and commanding her own shadows, she broke the rope holding her wrists. Azriel’s dagger lay next to her and she picked it up, turning around just to see the spy master standing up, looking at her like he really was going to kill her now. Before she could turn around and run for her life, Azriel spread his wings and flew to her, so fast she didn’t have time to process what was going on.

The next thing Fiadh knew was her body being thrown against the wall, Azriel’s hand on her neck, squishing the air out of her lungs. Fiadh gasped, the dagger falling to the ground as her hands rose to hold Azriel’s forearm, her nails digging into his skin.

“What are you?” She didn’t know if Azriel looked more pissed or surprised at her as he whispered the words.

Azriel’s hand tightened. It was becoming difficult to breath and Fiadh’s visions started to blur. She could see black dots on her eyes and her pulse was becoming erratic, her neck vein throbbing under Azriel’s hand. Fiadh dug her nails harder into Azriel, but the Shadowsinger didn’t even twitch. Tendrils of black smoke started coming out of her fingertips, surrounding Azriel’s arm, the spy looking at them as if he had never seen a shadow before. Ironic.

But he took his hand back, Fiadh crashing on the floor, coughing and panting. He was stunned, so Fiadh took advantage of his astonishment to regain her footing, punching him in the gut and running to the cell’s door. She opened it, the iron knob banging against the stone wall and tried to run, only to violently crash against another wall. She landed on her ass, grunting. Her thigh was throbbing from the slice Azriel had made and her head was pounding, her whole body telling her to rest. But the adrenaline was high and she knew she needed to get out quickly. She looked up, only to be met with a pair of violet eyes. She was royally fucked, she knew, as she stared into the eyes of the High Lord of the Night Court.

“Hello, Fiadh.” Rhysand’s voice was deep as he looked at her. How the fuck did he know her name?

She stayed quiet, building a wall of shadows in her mind to avoid the High Lord from taking a peek. She moved slowly, helping herself with her hands to try and get up. She suppressed a grunt, her body sore and in pain. Before she could get any further, she was hauled up by her armpits, coming to a standing position quickly. Azriel make quick work of putting her hands behind her back, pinning them with one hand while his other came to her neck, the blade once more resting just above where her pulse fluttered.

“Put on a little show like that again and I won’t hesitate to slay your throat.” Azriel rumbled low into her ear and Fiadh struggled against his hand holding her wrists, to no use.

“What are you?” Rhysand spoke again, the cell filling with so much power it was almost unbearable.

“How come you know about me?” Fiadh challenged the High Lord.

“You don’t get to ask questions.” Azriel growled again, pressing his blade harder into Fiadh’s skin, making her hiss.

“I’ve only heard legends about you. Hybern’s shadowsinger, never thought it was true. But you’re here now, so I guess I was wrong.” Rhysand smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Fiadh was nervous now. She had heard many things of Rhysand, not one single one of them good. He was evil, greedy for power. All in all, he was not so different from the King of Hybern, Fiadh thought. But only one of them could stand, the world could not deal with so many hungry power males. Rhysand was the one who won at the end, at least he won the first round. But now she was free, and she wanted to end him. End every single one of the High Lords. Not for revenge, but because she wanted a free world. Free from tyranny, free from unfair hierarchies. She would start with the worst of them: Rhysand. Maybe that hadn’t been her best idea. But something deep inside her told her to come to the Night Court first. She knew that there was something waiting for her here.

But as she looked into Rhysand’s eyes, feeling the body heat of Azriel right behind her, she wasn’t so sure of anything good coming from this situation. The High Lord finally looked away from her, only to land his eyes right above her head.

“Bring her up. I have more questions for her and it fucking reeks in here.” Without another word, Rhysand disappeared.

“Up? Where?” Fiadh asked, even though she didn’t expect Azriel to answer her. She could feel the anger radiating from his body.

Azriel lowered the dagger and he turned her around, bringing her hands to the front. He tied them together, tightening the rope to the point of pain. He smiled, satisfaction etching across his face at her whimper. Fiadh straightened her back. Proud asshole.

“That’s what you love to do, don’t you? Tie up pretty girls? Kinky.” A sarcastic smirk covered her mouth as Azriel looked into her eyes. Something sparked there, like he was seeing a good challenge unfold.

“That’s just one of the many things I love to do, yes.” Azriel’s voice was again low, and the anger seemed to not be there anymore, replaced by a curiosity on his eyes. “But you said it yourself. I only love to do it to the pretty ones.”

Fiadh narrowed his eyes, opening her mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but he suddenly grabbed the back of her knees, his other arm snaking across her back, as Fiadh let out a small scream.

“Now, shut up already.” Azriel gave her a saccharine smile.

Before Fiadh knew what was happening, they were travelling across shadows and stars, winnowing. And all of a sudden, they were falling down the sky. Fiadh screamed, feeling her stomach drop. Azriel tightened his hold on her as he spread out his enormous wings and started flapping them. They were flying and Fiadh was about to lose her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to stay as still as possible. But she could feel the wind against her, the sound of his wings moving and her reflexes made her hands grab the collar of his shirt, her fists bunching up the fabric and her face snuggled on the crook of his neck.

She felt Azriel’s feet landing and the male basically threw her onto her feet. Fiadh stumbled, trying to regain her breathing and not throw up. She looked around, they were on a big terrace and, right in front of her, a big house, practically a castle, stood up.

“Where are we?” Fiadh asked as she panted.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She heard Azriel’s voice behind her, taunting her.

And before she could muster up an answer, she felt a jab on the side of her head. Her body fell to the side as everything turned black.

#acotar #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #azriel acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand

[peterman-spideyparker]

Bad Liar (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Author’s Note: *ahem* *mouth trumpet fanfare noises* *confetti* This is for my dear sweet Amanda’s ( @mattmurdocksscars​ ) 1,500 writing challenge!!! Amanda is such a wonderful human who I am in awe of every time I see her stories pop up on my dash--my sweet baby angel is as talent as all heck!!! I’m so glad I could participate. This was so incredibly fun to write, and I literally got it done in maybe 40 minutes after inspiration struck after a meeting today. It was nice to do a little change in pace as I fight writers block for other things. Enjoy, my darling, and congrats again!! :)

Summary: You have been going strong with Matt for quite some time, but it turns out there was something that you didn’t know about him that Foggy divulged, even though he was sworn to secrecy. When Matt comes home and find you trying to get into a locked closet, the truth comes out.

Prompt: “Need any help?”

Warnings: Angst (lil conflict and misunderstanding since the reader doesn’t know about Matt’s, uh, extracurricular activities -- Matt goes a bit Devil mode in his tone for a second), fluff and softness (emotion an memories involving Jack), implied smut

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson (mentioned)

Word Count: 1,236

“Hey, Matty,” you say with a smile, trying your hardest not to panic or laugh as you look at him from right in front of his closet under the roof access stairs. 

He narrows his eyes slightly in suspicion as he moves along the hallway before he places his glasses on the countertop. “Hi, angel,” he says, his voice smooth as butter. “Need any help?”

“Hm? No,” you say nonchalantly as you casually saunter over towards him. You place your arms gently on his shoulders and let them slide down to his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “It was just a long day, and I missed you. That’s all.”

“So, you were by where I keep my dad’s trunk because you missed me?”

“Yes.” Unfortunately, it’s not entirely convincing for your boyfriend. 

“You really shouldn’t poke your nose behind locked doors, (Y/N),” he says, his voice lower than you’re used to. It sends a chill down your spine. 

“I’m just thinking I should know things about the man I’m in a relationship with,” you tell him as you try to keep your heart from racing. With the nerves and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you lean forward, brushing your lips against his ear as you whisper. “Like that my boyfriend had an earring in high school and undergrad?”

You watch as bright pink begins to burn the tips of his ears, his skin much hotter than before, the muscle in his jaw feathering. You press a kiss on his cheek, fixing the hair that swoops on his forehead with your fingers, the feeling in your gut telling you that you need to lighten and soften the intense mood. “Knowledge of that image would make me question your street cred as a lawyer, huh?”

Matt lets out a nervous laugh before a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes pulls across his face after a solid few seconds of processing your words. 

“Y-Yeah,” he stutters, wrapping his hands around your waist. “Can’t have you spreading that to all of New York, now can I?”

“I know I shouldn’t have been snooping, but Foggy had mentioned a photo album and said ‘the evidence is all there to prove that Matt Murdock had an awkward phase’. It was nowhere else in the apartment, so I figured it had to be there. I’m sorry that I made you that upset. That wasn’t my intention.”

“No, no, I’m not upset. I just wish you would have asked me first.”

“So you wouldn’t have tried to call Foggy a ‘traitorous liar’ or a ‘scabby sea bass’?”

“‘Scabby sea bass’?”

“I think it has something to do with the alleged earring in question. That, and it sounded like he was watching Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Ah,” Matt says softly, his entire demeanor following his tone. “But, no, none of those phrases exactly. I would have tried to deflect your attention from seeing those pictures, though.”

“Deflect all you want, Murdock, but nothing is going to get seeing those pictures off of my mind.”

“Even if I do that thing with the silk sheets you like?”

“Mm, a very good attempt. Might even work. But I still want to see them. Pretty please?”

“Not the pretty please,” he smirks playfully before leaning into a kiss that wrinkles the fabric of your shirt. “Give me a second, and I’ll grab it.”

You move to sit on the couch as Matt retrieves the album and makes the quick trip next to you, the spine of the book cracking from not being used for a long time. You let out a soft gasp as you see pictures of Matt from the youngest points of his childhood. 

“You were so small, Matty,” you coo as your eyes move over a page of baby pictures. 

“We were all that small once, y’know, not just me,” he chuckles.  

“Wow,” you breathe, pausing on a picture of a man holding infant Matt in a big comfy chair. Your fingers gently trace over the edges of the picture. “This must be your dad. You look like him.”

Matt doesn’t respond to that claim. Instead, he slides down into the couch slightly and wraps his arm around your shoulders. You slowly move through the pages, enjoying these little snippets of Matt’s life until you find a picture that looks like it’s from his undergrad years. His hair is long and floppy with the 2000s swoosh across his forehead. He’s sitting on the floor in black jeans and a gray henley, resting against a sofa, smiling at something someone out of frame is doing. Then it catches your eye: a thin little silver sliver of metal looping on his left earlobe. 

“Oh my God,” you say with a giggle, leaning forward as you bring the scrapbook up to your face.

“I was convinced it looked cool,” he sighs with a little laugh. “Clearly, a blind guy should not determine what looks fashionable, nor should it be encouraged by other college boys.”

“Matty, you look hot,” you say as you linger on the image. “And since when do you have chest hair? You’re as smooth as a seal!”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Are you telling me that you’re turned on by my 2000s look and my chest hair?”

“Firstly, Matthew, you should know that you always turn me on. Secondly, yes. College me is going feral inside, right now. I need to know, though: did you ever wear a necklace or any kind of rings at all?”

“Yeah, sometimes. The rings were every once in a blue moon, though. Parties and things like that.”

“Matthew,” you moan, feeling your cheeks grow hot. This man will be the death of you. You twist and lean forward to take a peek at his ear. “Oh my God, you can still kinda see the hole from the piercing.”

“Again, not my best choice. Besides, like you said, it’d ruin my credit as a really good lawyer.”

“Fine, if you don’t want to bring back the earring, how about the chest hair?”

“Seriously?”

“Stupendously serious,” you say with a straight face.

“I’ll think about it. Chest hair would make it harder too—.” He cuts himself off before he can finish that sentence.

“Harder to what?”

“We can talk about that a little later,” he deflects with a kiss to your neck. His hands wrap around your hips and spin you into his lap so you face his front and straddle his legs. “I was thinking, while you were here, maybe we can do that thing with the silk sheets?”

“Matthew Murdock, are you trying to distract me?”

“Not at all,” he says as his hands lazily rub up your waist and down your thighs. You can tell he’s lying, but he’s already shown you one thing about him today that he probably didn’t want to, and this position is so nice. Not to mention the memories of what he is suggesting sends an erotic shiver throughout your body.

“Okay, then, Murdock,” you hum with a smile as you lean forward. “Do your worst. Make me feel all kinds of good.”

In one swift movement, he lifts you up from the couch, making you clutch onto his shoulders and wrap your legs tightly around his waist.

“Trust me, angel. When we’re done, those pictures will be the furthest thing from your mind.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​​​​​​​​​ @steampowerednightvaler​​​​​​​​​​ @themusingsofmany​​​​​​​​​​ @just-the-hiddles​​​​​​​​​​ @toozmanykids​​​​​​​ @dangertoozmanykids101​​​​​​ @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother​ @hellskitchens-whore​

#Amandas1500 #mattmurdocksscars #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x reader fluff #matt murdock x reader angst #matt murdock x reader smut #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil fluff #daredevil smut #daredevil angst #daredevil x reader fluff #daredevil x reader angst #daredevil x reader smut #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil netflix #daredevil disney+ #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[skz-films]

➳ GIF REMAKE CHALLENGE

remake someone’s else colouring, sharpening, slowing, and resizing. do your best to get close to the original and share how you did. make a new gif to challenge those you tag to recreate. share the source video if possible! try not to tell those you tagged anything to help them; see what they can figure out and how close they get on their own! if you’re tagged in several, you can do one or all, whatever you like! if they have a giffing tutorial, shared actions, etc., you can use that to aid your recreation!

i was tagged by @sugarushride, @chanrizard, @minzbins & @babycatlix to do this challenge <3 and this honest to god broke my brain sjdjkfdskhghksghj however, i had so much fun figuring out how to get close to your individual coloring and sharpening techniques. so here are the results!

i rlly like how em fixed jisung's skin tone in her gif considering the original lighting was so pale and blue; sa's red was more vibrant than mine and i think i went a lil overboard w it hhhh; i had spent the looongest time w mel's gif bc mine kept going over 10 mb so i had no choice but to ultimately cut some frames for it sjdfdjgjkfkjfdsh i'm sorry </3; i love all the reds and yellows in kitty's gif but clearly my speed adjustments didn't work lmao

this is getting longer so my challenge for you, will be the 230608 s-class stage w hyunjin as the ending fairy <3 bc i also fought for my life coloring that stage so i would love to see how other content creators would recreate this gif of mine and agree that it is indeed the worst stage lighting for s-class.

here's the video. the timestamp is from 3:38-3:41, all frames :')

i'm tagging @lee-minhoe, @woodziecup, @shorelinnes, @minchanz, @get-lit, @shuaberriez, @superbowls, @snug-gyu, @yang-innie, @jinniebit, @blueprintchan & @yangjeongin to do the same, but only if you're up for it! <3

#skzfilms post #gif remake challenge #coloring challenge #long post #this challenge had me screaming crying laughing staring into the void in the past 4 hours. in that order.

[fandom-friday]

Hello wonderful Karrde!! I have some shout outs for this week 💖

@rexxdjarin's AMAZING Thick Healthy Clones Series 🥰🥵😭 seeing our favorite boys with Tem's features and skin tone literally gives me butterflies 🙈

@baufraus's new Boba art with daddy Boba relaxing in his space jammies and looking like a whole 5 course meal on his throne 🥴 (and her commissions are open!!)

@sleepingsun501's Sweet True Lies series, I haven't read much for Fox but y'all have been helping me fix that lately hehe

and @kimiheartblade's Rex fic If I Fits I Sits! a perfect cute lil fic for when you need more Rex and tookas in your life (which is always)

OOOOOOH these are all WONDERFUL! I adore all the art you've listed here (for *ahem* similar reasons hehe), and both of these fics are absolutely great reads for any Clone Wars fan! Thanks so much for sending this list in!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #art rec #fanfiction #fan art #star wars #the clone wars #the book of boba fett #tbobf #tcw #boba fett #commander fox #commander fox x oc #Captain Rex #nsft #lemon #lemony lemon #the bad batch #tbb #hunter #echo #commander cody #arc trooper echo #captain gregor

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ STRAWBERRY FLAVORED — GETO SUGURU.

contents. here is a lil prequel to this btw, basically this is suguru’s shower scene but if he actually had someone to take care of him, reverse comfort, aka my extremely self indulgent drabble of fixing suguru before he turns into a mass murderer <3

it’s been a while—suguru has been in that shower for long enough that you’re starting to grow concerned. you contemplate for a bit, whether it’s a good idea or not to enter the boys shower, weighing the possibilities of being caught.

satoru’s not here, you reason, nanami and haibara are gone too, and yaga shouldn’t notice either—so, with a heavy sigh, you walk up to the door, opening it slowly. you can see him, standing as the water pours over his body, not even moving a little when you enter.

suguru is not the same—not after everything that’s happened. you can tell, you can see it under his eyes from the lack of sleep, you can see it in his cheekbones as they show a bit more from the lost weight, you can see it in the stiffness of his body when you’re around him. he’s not the same, and no one’s seem to have noticed, but you have. you always have.

you slowly strip from your clothing, walking up to him quietly until your arms circle his waist and your cheek rests against his bare back.

“baby,” you hum, “you’re turning into a prune. look at your skin,” you grab his hand, running a thumb over the tips of his fingers, wrinkly from the water.

he gives you an empty chuckle—you don’t think you’ve heard a real laugh from suguru since that day. “but aren’t i a handsome prune?” he mumbles.

“of course,” you kiss his shoulder, “the handsomest.”

“that’s a relief,” he says playfully—there’s nothing playful about his tone, though. it’s numb, automatic, like he’s trained himself to respond to you the way he always does. but you can feel it. he’s not the same.

“you’ve been in here a while. i got tired of waiting.”

“sorry,” he drops his hand from yours, falling limply to his side, “lost track of time, i guess.”

“suguru,” you say softly, “what’s wrong?”

he’s quiet, probably contemplating his answer. no one else might’ve noticed, but you have. you always do—he knows you always will. finally, he decides to answer, “are you really asking me that?”

“yes,” you say firmly, “i want to hear it. i want you to hear it. stop pushing it down.”

“i’m fine,” he mutters, “just tired.”

“i know,” you say softly, “i know you’re tired. what’s got you so tired?”

gently, your arms twist his body—he doesn’t put up a fight, just spins to face you until his face is digging into your neck on instinct. he can smell your body wash, can inhale the familiar scent of you from here. there are no curses to consume and no people to save at the risk of himself here, just the soft feeling of your skin and the warm press of your lips on his head.

riko would’ve liked you, he thinks. he can’t help it.

for a fleeting moment, when his hand was outstretched to her, he’d wondered if you’d like her too. he’d decided you would—you’re kind, you always have enough love for one more person. you’ll like riko, he’d thought. and then just like that, she’d been on the floor, dark pool of blood under her head.

you never got to meet her, and he never got to introduce you.

“what’s wrong, sugu?” you ask again, voice more delicate this time.

“everything,” he whispers.

he’s tired, so incredibly tired. suguru is exhausted. so for today, he’ll let you pick up the pieces. he doesn’t want to worry about you right now, doesn’t want to think about whether or not the edges will be sharp enough to slice your fingertips. suguru is exhausted—so for once, he lets you worry about him instead.

“i see,” you nod, letting your fingers trail to his head, stroking the wet strands gently as he trembles against your body, “everything is a lot. let’s start with just one, yeah?”

“i hate the taste of curses,” he spits, “it tastes like vomit.”

“that’s no good,” you agree, and then you’re pulling his head out of your neck—he wants to protest, wants to stay right where he is so he doesn’t have to face you, or anything. but you’re insistent, gentle as you are firm, cupping his cheeks as you force him to look at you. “can you still taste it?”

“yeah,” he nods. it’s true, he can’t forget the taste even if he tries. it’s like a phantom pain—but it resides on his tongue, haunting him long after it’s gone, even as he breathes and swallows and talks. “i hate it.”

your lips are on his after that, soft and sweet against his mouth. he can taste the strawberry of your chapstick, the familiar taste of you that he also could never forget. it washes down the vile taste of curses easily, so he leans in for more. and more. and more. he needs more.

“what about that?” you ask, stroking his cheek when you pull away, “how does that taste?”

“good,” he says shakily, “i…i like that.”

“i know you do,” you smile, pecking the corner of his mouth, “i can’t change how curses taste. but if i could, i’d make them strawberry flavored for you.”

he chuckles at that—it’s small, but it’s real. for the first time in a long time. it’s real.

suguru hates how curses taste, and you can’t change that, but you can help make swallowing become easier. he’ll take it—he’ll take anything you give.

“that might make the job easier,” he says, burying his face back into your neck, “they’d taste like you.”

“i’ll kiss you then,” you stroke his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. his lips wobble, vision turning blurry. suguru is tired—he doesn’t want to hold it in anymore. “after every curse you swallow, i’ll kiss you. it’ll make it easier.”

“i don’t know if it will,” he admits, “this….what do we do it for? none of it is easy.”

he used to think it was. fighting curses was easy—satoru and him were the strongest. fighting curses was like stepping on ants as they walk on the concrete, crushing them before they can bite anyone. but he starts to wonder if people deserve to be bitten, if the people who kick at ant piles mindlessly for fun deserve to be saved from themselves.

you think for a bit, contemplating his question as the water runs over both of your bodies, slipping into the thin crevices between your skin and his.

“it’s not,” you agree, “it’s not easy. i would’ve loved to meet riko. i know you wanted me to. i’m sorry, suguru.”

somewhere along with the water on your shoulder mixes his tears, and his body shakes against yours. suguru is tired. he’s tired of swallowing curses and tasting bile. he’s tired of pretending the weak are innocent. he’s tired of carrying so much weight on his young, innocent shoulders. they deserve to be free.

“is it worth saving them?” he asks as he sniffles, “if they clap over people like us dying?”

“people like us aren’t always so different,” you point out.

people like us don’t need saving, he wants to argue—but you don’t give him a chance to, turning the water off behind him as you stand there holding him as he leans into you.

“there will always be someone who needs to be saved,” you murmur, “and there will always be something they need to be saved from. it’s not always as simple as curses and exorcisms, though.”

“that doesn’t make any sense,” he frowns, “that’s the whole point of jujutsu. to exorcise curses.”

“and if we exorcised them all? would that make everyone safe?”

“maybe not,” he furrows his eyebrows, “but at least we wouldn’t be dying for them.”

“you never know,” you reach for the towel, slowly pulling away and patting his skin gently as you dry his dripping skin, “maybe you’d die from something worse.”

“what could be worse?” he asks bitterly. he doesn’t understand. but you smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you brush his bangs from his face.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, “but i’m sure there’s something. there’s always something worse. but there’s always something better too.”

he still doesn’t completely understand. but the weight on his shoulder doesn’t feel as heavy when you lean and kiss it again—he feels like at least some of his youth is still his, still yours.

“you make no sense,” he grunts, scowling when you ruffle his hair obnoxiously with a giggle.

“well, maybe you’ll make sense of things after a nap,” you poke his chest accusingly, “you really need one. and then you’ll eat something. c’mon.”

“i don’t sleep with wet hair,” he reminds you as you tug him along, stopping where his clothes hang. you gesture at him to hold his arms up, grabbing his shirt. he rolls his eyes and indulges you, letting you dress him.

“i’ll dry it for you,” you chuckle, “my sugu is so high maintenance.”

and then, before you can turn to grab your own clothes, he tugs your wrist and pulls you in, kissing you hard, kissing you hungrily, kissing you like you’re all he has. just because he can. he can taste the last bits of your chapstick—he wants to keep tasting it forever. it’s strawberry, his favorite.

“i like strawberries,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “so don’t change the flavor.”

“okay,” you grin, cupping his cheeks, “i’ll always get strawberry for my sugu.”

he just needed a few kissies and he would’ve been fine. i guess i’ll take one for the team and kiss him a few times 😔 i guess i can take the responsibility of loving him 😔 i’ll be fine guys no need to worry about me 😔

#operation: heal suguru! #teepods.writings #drabbles. #geto x reader #geto x you #geto angst #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[thelampisaflashlight]

Just Some Guy

[You ever make a lil' fella for the hell of it and then accidentally make him suffer? Yeah. Feat. Vespera.] Below the cut.

Guy would like to start off by saying that ever since Vespera left, his workload seems to have doubled in size.

Not that he's complaining -he's not, he swears he's not- he likes being busy, likes being told he's doing a good job, likes feeling... needed.

But this -the mountain of paperwork Cardinal Fiero had laid in front of him that morning- is ridiculous and even he cannot be expected to finish all of this in one afternoon.

"Vespera could get this done no problem." the mean little voice in the back of his head tells him, "She wouldn't complain about it either."

He shouldn't complain.

If he complains, then they'll give the work to someone else and scold him for not being better, for being useless.

Guy switches his grip on the pen in his hand, squeezes a bit too tight maybe, and watches a blob of ink drip from the tip onto the desktop.

He pulls the sleeve of his cassock up to wipe it away, accidentally smearing it across his palm.

"Vespera also left." a kinder tone reminds him, "She left this place."

Right.

Right, right, right, Vespera had quit.

She'd given up, but he hasn't given up yet.

Vespera was the rock to his scissors, but now that she's gone, he's finally at an advantage.

He's finally being praised, being treated more like a person rather than a pest.

But...

"Why can't I leave?"

Cardinal Fiero returns from his trip to the abbey that evening, and when Guy hands him off the paperwork he'd pressed through dinner to finish, he doesn't receive much more than a nod before the old man is ranting and raving about an argument he had with Papa Nihil.

Guy listens sympathetically.

He's a good listener.

Not much for conversation though.

"Ghoul."

He raises his eyes to meet the cardinal's.

"Tomorrow, you will come with me to the abbey."

Guy nods.

He doesn't want to go.

"Very good."

But it doesn't matter what he wants.

He just has to do what he's told and it will all be alright.

Right?

The sun rises too early, too big and bright and harsh on his eyes.

He spends so much time indoors anymore, he's forgotten all the sights and sounds of the world outside his window, beyond the curtain he keeps closed.

He keeps his head down in the car.

Picks at the rough skin around his nails.

"Don't fidget."

His hands find their way into his lap.

"Sit up straight."

His back protests.

"Behave."

Already in trouble it seems and it's not even ten in the morning.

"Sometimes, ghoul, I think you're more trouble than you're worth." Cardinal Fiero sighs.

I'm sorry.

"Nothing to say? Can't even be bothered to defend yourself..."

I'm sorry.

"Haahh... While we're at the abbey, try and fix that."

Guy can feel the pressure building, the tears just barely there.

He won't cry.

He won't.

Not in front of this man.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, save for the cardinal's occasional grunt of discomfort.

The long, gravel road to the abbey is too bumpy and inconsistent, but every pop and crackle draws Guy farther and farther from himself.

To where?

To where he isn't sure.

He's somewhere outside of the car.

"Ten minutes." the driver says, eyes appearing in the rearview mirror, flicking to meet Guy's ceaseless, empty stare into space.

Ten minutes.

Ten...

A hard slap on his shoulder snaps him from his revelry, and it takes him a moment to come back to himself, to the world around him.

"Unpack the car."

Cardinal Fiero sends him outside almost as soon as they arrive.

"If I come out and find you still lingering here, I will be most disappointed."

But...

Where is he supposed to go?

He wanders a bit down the corridor, but quickly gets nervous and turns around.

He begins to pace.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

His anxiety building with each click of his shoes.

"Guy?"

He snaps to attention, looking around for the source of the voice and sees...

"Guy!"

Vespera.

She practically runs to him, wrapping her arms around his skinny frame before he can fully process what's happening.

She's hugging him so tight.

He doesn't know what to do.

He feels a chill when she pulls away, and he almost... almost chases her warmth, but instead he steps back.

"Guy?" Vespera tilts her head, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, "Honey, why aren't you saying hello?"

The pressure is back.

"Oh, honey, what happened?"

Her touch is so gentle.

It hurts.

#lamp writes #nameless ghouls #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #ghost band oc #nameless ghoul oc

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

While this ask was prompted by Tezcatlipoca I'm expanding it to be more general: What do you think about the Mesoamerican Servant designs overall? Good parts? Bad parts? Something they can do better/fix? Moments where they dropped the ball entirely?

I'm not Mexican so I want to know what others think. I've seen people bash Tezcatlipoca for whitewashing reasons but I've also seen others say it sorta works because some people do look pale.

Alright then, I'll try to elaborate on my feelings as much as I can. There will be somewhat minor spoilers for LB7, so be warned.

So, starting off with the first one fgo has ever had, Quetzalcoatl.

If you couldn't tell from this blog, and the fact I've never brought it up, I absolutely ADORE her design! In fact, her design is the first thing that got me to start liking her. Then I found out about her dynamite character and the rest followed suit. Her outfit, while not technically being fully accurate, still looks very nice and her appearance is very beautiful. I'm not really sure what it is, but her design feels like it works well for a mesoamerican deity. Even if the people themselves never looked like this. There are some depictions that described Quetzalcoatl as being more pale in appearance, which might be part of what inspired it? Blonde hair has also been mentioned, tho not as frequently as just being pale. Overall, it's a banging design, and my favorite among fgo in general, even as a mesoamerican servant.

Since her design is pretty similar, let's do Kuku next. Now, obviously since she's a sorta copy of Quetzalcoatl, she's gonna look similar. In fact, before it was revealed she was an Archetype, I thought it was Quetz, just with a different but similar host. With the fact she looks similar to Quetz, I'm gonna love it. As for stuff unique to her, I am in love with the crystal looking hair, along with the cute western type outfit in her first ascension. Since Kuku is an odd case, she doesn't have a more traditional looking mesoamerican outfit, tho there are influences. Like her headrest in the final ascension, and the serpent imagery on her other 2 ascensions. Overall, more of Quetz but with a new spin, so great!

Next up, let's address Tenochtitlan. Her design is, generally decent. With all 3 ascensions kinda doing something different each time. The first one is the only one trying to be actually traditional. Now, if you've seen a decent amount of mesoamerican clothing, like I have in my research attempts, you could tell like Quetz's it's only vaguely a mesoamerican type outfit. With Quetz's tho, it does feel more genuine. Meanwhile, Teno's 1A has elements that stand out a bit too much. Like the weird top she has, and the prominent heels, and the weird face mask thing? Now, given her unique nature, there isn't a direct depiction of a deity to draw inspiration from, tho there were 2 decent ones. Tlaloc and Huitzilopochtli. Tho, while I can see some details present in Tlaloc, like her headdress, not so much with Huitzilopochtli. Her 2nd ascension is meant to be more like a modern fashionista, to kinda go with her "big bro's" modern day obsession. Which also kinda goes with the indigenous mexican gods still being somewhat active post age of gods, Somehow. Her final... is a mixed bag. While I generally do like it, it's clear something else entirely is being tried here. It's a sorta sci-fi-ish look, with mesoamerican inspiration that I'm assuming is meant to tie in with her mecha noble phantasm. Which is pretty nice still, tho a lil confusing as to why. Overall they're decent designs, but a bit further away from greatness in my eyes.

Now then, Tezcatlipoca. I will use this opportunity to mention that yes, many Mexicans and Latin Americans in general come in a wide variety of skin tones these days. While the original indigenous peoples didn't, Fate doesn't inherently have to limit themselves that way, given the unique lore around the gods taking human hosts. This is at least part of why I don't have a huge issue with Quetzalcoatl and Tenochtitlan looking not as tan. However, with Tezcatlipoca it doesn't work as well. For one thing, Tezca is very strongly associated with darkness, the color black and so on. Another thing, is that since we've already had other mesoamerican characters, who are paler and who's designs work well enough even with that, it starts to get a bit oversaturated now, especially with one that doesn't work nearly as well. As for the clothes, I do like the first ascension, going for the vibe of a rich and stylish war profiteer, to coincide with his modern obsession with guns. The 2nd is also very fun, cause it feels like a super hero/villain's costume. While I'm not the biggest fan of the mask, or the unnecessary opening in the one shoe, it's otherwise very fun, and I'm imagining going for something similar to Teno's 3a. But then when you get to his 3rd ascension is when his general appearance especially clashes with the rest of the design. A pale, blonde person dressed like that feels downright offensive. Something about the weird leather boots and gloves, along with the unnecessary skull inclusions and the poor looking headdress and facepaint, on this scrawny looking white dude feels like all kinds of wrong. Even ignoring the appearance of the wearer, it feels dumb. I dunno if you guys realize, but mesoamerican clothing was actually quite colorful, not this semi-monochrome mess. Which is another fact that makes the other designs work, but not this one. While black was an important color for Tezcatlipoca, he was also associated with other colors, like gold, red, blue and so on. If you threw a few of those colors and got rid of some of the edginess, it'd be a vast improvement. Overall, somethings work, but a lot don't too.

That's all for now, as I'd rather not get into npcs atm, maybe another time. So overall most of the designs are good in my opinion. Pale skin isn't inherently a deal breaker in my eyes, especially when other bits work aswell. Tho we very much could use more variety now, with many other skin tones like how modern day Mexicans have.

#fate grand order #quetzalcoatl #wife #kukulkan #tenochtitlan #tezcatlipoca

[leiawritesstories]

THIS IS LITERALLY ROWAELIN

“You look good in red.” “You look good in green.”

OH MY GOD I LOVE IT THANK U BESTIE

word count: 1k

warnings: naughty jokes, innuendo, language, lil bit of smut

enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan stared blankly at the opened drawer in front of him, wondering why in all hell he'd agreed to let his fiancée buy him holiday pajamas. They had a tradition where every year they'd dress in the most obnoxiously Christmas-y pajamas they could find and spend a cozy evening decorating their tree together, but this year...

This year, Aelin had asked if she could secretly buy the outfits.

And Rowan was currently regretting that decision.

Not because he hated the outfits she'd found--gods no, quite the damn opposite. In fact, he loved the outfits. So much that he was going to rip hers into tiny little lacy shreds.

No, Rowan Whitethorn was regretting his decision to let Aelin buy the Christmas pajamas because her idea, her gloriously wicked idea, had been to go out and buy not the usual cozy flannel pajamas, but a tiny little pair of silky green boxers--if they could even be called that--for him. A set of boxers that came with absolutely no other pieces of clothing.

As for her, she'd hidden her outfit, but not before he'd caught a brief glimpse of cherry-red lace and straps, something he knew damn well--and she knew damn well--would make him absolutely feral.

Which was probably her intent, if he was being honest.

A little grimly, Rowan took the tiny, silky green boxers out of the drawer, staring at them as if he could will them to cover more of his ass.

Aelin knocked on the bedroom door. "You alright, Ro?"

"Fine," he grunted.

She stuck her head into the room. "Don't worry, buzzard, I promise I'm the only one who's going to see you in that outfit."

"I know," he muttered. "Still, Ae...really?"

She winked, beaming. "Where's your holiday spirit, Grinch?"

"I'll show you Grinch," he promised, her teasing sparking a flame within him. She just giggled and withdrew, going into the bathroom to change her clothes.

Rowan was waiting out in the living room, more than a little self-conscious with only the miniscule half-assed excuse for underwear covering him, when the bathroom door opened and Aelin strolled into the living room, casual as ever. Her usual smirk curled her deep-red-painted lips, only growing when Rowan's dark gaze trailed lazily over her body, his breath hitching as he drank her in.

"See something you like, buzzard?" Her voice dripping with sweetness, husky with sin, Aelin smoothed one hand down her side, barely grazing the curve of her breast, fingernails dancing over her waist, her hip.

She'd known immediately that she had to buy this set the second she tried it on, the cherry-red lace clinging to her body in all the right places, highlighting the toned lines and curves of her frame. The straps holding the rather scanty bra and panties together only enhanced the effect, and the matching garter set around her thighs...oh yes, she saw the way Rowan's eyes fixed onto those garters, she did.

"You look good in red, Fireheart," he rasped, comfortably spreading himself in the armchair, not even bothering to hide the way he was bulging through the skimpy boxers.

She let her own gaze sweep over him, the powerful lines of his body accented by the tattoo running up his arm, the black ink a sharp contrast to his tanned skin, to the tiny little green silk boxers she'd bought for him. "You look good in green, Ro."

He smirked, tapping his fingers lazily on the armrest. "I'm beginning to not mind this...outfit so much."

Aelin strolled over to stand in front of him, trailing her fingertips down his face, his jaw, his tattoo. "Are you, now?"

"Indeed." Rowan's large, warm hands spanned her waist, tugging her down into his lap, parting her thighs to settle her right up against him. "You should wear this every Christmas, love." He traced the straps of the lacy little bra, his finger gliding languidly over the lace, over her skin, just barely dipping beneath the fabric. "In fact, I think this is the only kind of Christmas pajamas I want you to wear. Ever."

And with that, he flicked open the little catch holding the garment together and flung it to the ground.

"Happy holidays, love," he rumbled, his lips caressing her skin.

"Happy holid--oh gods," she gasped, hips jerking against his hardness as he slipped his other hand into her lacy little panties, finding her more than ready.

"Have fun teasing me?" He didn't wait for her answer, just tore the panties apart and resettled her atop his thigh, his lips pressed into the crook of her neck. She moaned something unintelligible in response, arching her back as he guided her to rock against his thigh, the perfect pressure sending shockwaves through her body.

"So good," she panted, angling her head down to kiss him deeply as he flexed his muscles, the pressure rubbing at her clit. "Fuck, Ro!" she gasped, feeling herself drawing near to climax. She threaded one hand into his hair, the other sliding down to cup him through the silky boxers, feeling just how ready all her teasing hat got him. "Gods, Ro, I'm gonna--"

Too swiftly for her comprehension, he lifted her off his thigh, ignoring her moan of protest. "A little worked up, Fireheart?" he smirked, knowing full well that she was.

In response, she tore apart the flimsy excuse for underwear that he still had on, freeing his thick erection. "And what about you, love?"

She was sprawled out on her back on the carpet with Rowan buried inside her almost before she could blink.

"You know exactly what you do to me, love," he panted, setting an almost frantic pace as he pulled one of her legs over his shoulder, the angle making her see stars.

And as she tumbled headlong into climax, Rowan following only moments later, she gasped her agreement. Gods yes, she knew precisely what she did to her buzzard.

It was the reason she'd picked out those "pajamas," after all.

~~~

TAGS:

@charlizeed

@cretaceous-therapod

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@nerdperson524

@fireheartwhitethorn4ever

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@wesupremeginger

@stardelia

@shanias-world

@mybloodrunsblue

@swankii-art-teacher

@wordsafterhours

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@violet-mermaid7

@holdthefrickup

@goddess-aelin

@rowaelinismyotp

@dealfea

@irondork

@elentiyawhitethorn

@live-the-fangirl-life

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@chronicchthonic14

@lovely-dove-zee

@sweet-but-stormy

@hanging-from-a-cliff

@jorjy-jo

@rowaelinrambling

@thegreyj

@silentquartz

@backtobl4ck

@throneofus7

@elizarikaallen

@llyncooljones

@booknerdproblems

@julemmaes

@earthtolinds

#my writing #answered prompt #quick drabble #blizzard drabbles #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #fluff #and naughty jokes #and smut #yep it got naughty #oops #rowaelin smut

[elaaronpresleysgirl]

Three ain't a crowd Chapter 1/2-Sweet stuff

Warnings/featuring-Midly dubious consent,threesome,Daddy kink,Mommy kink,oral sex.

"Jer-ah fuck, put my balls in your mouth baby" Elvis' dark blue eyes rolled back and his head fell back against the kitchen wall as his tan hands desperately grabbed the man's hair. 

Jerry began to obey Elvis and roll his tongue over the tight flesh of his balls when the kitchen door began to open. There was no time to disguise what had been occurring before the door was flung open and the two men were met with a flame haired beauty.

"Mi-mi-miss" Jerry stumbled over his words, rising up from his knees, turning away from the woman. Elvis grabbed the nearest item-a tea towel-and draped it over his erection.

"A-a-Ann...I-i-i-i swear it was his idea" Elvis fumbled with the tea towel which had now acquired a small damp spot.

Jerry shot Elvis a dirty look and shook his head muttering about how he wasn't complaining when he had his cock in his mouth a minute ago.

The men's attention turned back to Ann Margret when she burst out laughing, looking them up and down "You look like two naughty schoolboys" She managed to get out through her laughter.

"Look, I don't care what you guys get up to. It's all fun." Her laughter had died down and her tone began to sound seductive. "And I've never seen...what you were just doing before" 

Elvis and Jerry were now both wide-eyed and open- mouthed,looking unsure what to do with themselves.

Ann strode over to Elvis with confidence,her heels clicking on the marble floor. She took his hand away from the towel he was still holding over himself and slowly lifted it completely off, tossing it without a thought where it would land.

Both men remained mute. 

"Boys!Don't just stand there!Carry on with your...fun. You wanted your balls in his mouth didn't you?" Ann raised an eyebrow. 

"Shit. Wasn't sure you'd heard that." Elvis was desperately turned on at the thought of finishing what they'd started in front of Ann. 

"Oh I heard baby. Why don't you boys put on a little show for me?" Ann took a seat on one of the breakfast bar stools facing the men and to their delight began removing her sweater, showing the fact she was wearing no bra, revealing her bare breasts.

"Fuck" Jerry and Elvis both voiced their suprise in unison, scrambling over to touch her. "Woah! Easy tigers" She pushed the boys' hands away, making them pout.

"Now you're not gonna touch me until you make each other cum." They both groaned but Jerry then slapped his hand onto Elvis's shoulder. 

"Where were we,E?" Ann grinned at Jerry's eagerness as he fell to his knees in front of the dark haired man. "Something about you putting my balls in your mouth baby" 

Ann felt her skin heat up, she thought it was incredibly hot how Elvis called Jerry by the pet name.

Elvis backed up against the wall again and let his hand play with Jerry's locks as he began taking him in his mouth. Ann marvelled at the sight of Elvis's head falling back in what seemed like slow motion and Jerry's mouth sucking in one of Elvis' balls, then the other, moaning against them.

Elvis curiously fixed his eyes on Ann who couldn't resist starting to touch herself over the fabric of her jeans. "This what gets you off baby? God I wish I could suck on those perfect tits" His voice was shaky with desperation. Ann brought her hand to her breast and looked directly at Elvis, her middle finger circling her already hard nipple.  "Cum and I might let you, baby boy" 

"Jer, do that thing you usually do, I need to cum" Elvis needily bucked his hips. "You need my help boss? Better say please." Elvis' cock throbbed even harder hearing the title coming out of Jerry's mouth. "God. Please.. please let me cum?" Elvis was now at Jerry's mercy.

Jerry himself was now erect, hardening at the way Elvis could be toyed with. "Look at ya. Forty years old and you're begging like a lil girl" Elvis grimaced, images of how Jerry had dominated him like this countless times before flashing through his mind. "How bout ya beg some more?" Elvis couldn't stop himself moaning despite the other man even being in psychical contact with him at this point. "Please, come on baby don't make me beg no more" His lips were sure to be sore, the way he was biting down on them in desperation. 

Jerry just grinned and continued "How bout ya DO beg some more? Fucking beg me E, til ya balls are full on empty" Ann watched on open mouthed, feeling the wetness pool in her panties as Elvis squeezed his eyes tight shut and Jerry rose to his feet to stand face to face with Elvis. Without warning he gripped a strong hand around Elvis' throat, causing a strangled whimper. 

"God I'm so-" Jerry cut him off, tightening his grip around his flushed neck. "You're close? I know you fucking are. Baby boy's about to come without me even having a hand on him" Elvis grabbed onto Jerry's shoulders, beyond needy.

"You're supposed to be my boss...doesn't seem like it E. Just think how much cum will have come out of that cock by the end of the night.. on her tits, inside her, inside me, inside my mouth right now "

Jerry let go of his hold on Elvis' throat and dropped back down to his knees. "Please, please, please, fuck I'm gonna-" The sentence died off as Elvis began cuming before Jerry's mouth had even made contact with his dick but he happily took him in his mouth and let the sticky white substance in, he knew from experience there was plenty of it. Elvis couldn't speak, only give ragged breaths.

"Good boy. There's a good boy. See all you had to do was ask nicely. Taste damn delicious E. Ann come over here and get a taste" 

Ann appeared hypnotized by the scene before her, the dominant man having to raise his voice and call her again "Ann! Quick! You're missing out on the good stuff doll." She snapped out of her stupor and dashed to Elvis' still spurting cock. While Jerry had been talking Elvis to his peak Ann had kicked her heels off and pulled her jeans and panties off completely, unable to resist the pulling urge to feel her bare pussy under her fingers without a stitch in the way.

So captivated by Jerry and his boss' display she nearly forgot her earlier bargain "You're not gonna touch me until you make each other cum" But Elvis didn't have to touch her for her to enjoy his seed, the way he was still firing out of himself she was convinced they could have been at opposite sides of the room and it would have still coated her wanting lips.

Jerry let Elvis out of his mouth as Ann got close to him. She held her mouth wide open, allowing his load to coat her lips and tongue, praising him in a sickly sweet voice "You really are a good boy, and you taste even better than I remember" 

"LORD have mercy!" Elvis found his voice as he rid himself of the last few drops. Despite his cock having stopped squirting he was still semi-hard, a fact his playmates relished. "Holy fuck, our boy's still half hard! Such a lil soldier aren't ya?" Elvis whimpered like a kitten when Jerry stood with his hands flat against the wall behind Elvis and leaned into him, putting his warm lips on his and parting them, sticking his tongue into his mouth with passion. 

"God you boys are really trying to make my pussy throb" From her spot on the floor Ann grasped both breasts in her hands and licked her lips, watching the men intently as they made out like horny teenagers. 

"Lord you're making my cock throb, talking like that.. come here" Jerry pulled away from Elvis and made for Ann's arm to pull her towards him but was met with a playful swat of her hand. "I said no touching till you make each other cum.. you haven't cum yet, Schilling!" Being called by his surname made Jerry groan, flushed and needy. He went back to making out with Elvis, tugging at himself, eventually moving his lips down to Elvis' neck, reveling in how he made his boss whine. 

"You heard the lady.. all three of us know how well you can use those pretty lips.. be a good boy and put em to good use, make Daddy cum." As he whispered in his ear, Jerry felt Elvis' full erection press against his stomach. "Does my baby like me calling myself that word? It feel good knowing you have a Daddy to look after you? I bet you're just dying to say it" Elvis was beyond wide-eyed, looking down at Ann who now had her finger circling her clit, watching the heated exchange. 

Elvis was lost for words. "Aw. Come on baby, say it. Please, would make Daddy very happy" Elvis flushed bright red and opened his mouth as if to speak but nothing came out. Jerry decided to try actions rather than words, stroking the man's hair and sucking gently on the flesh of his neck. "You're so good baby, so good" He squeezed his eyes shut and finally the words poured out of mouth. "D-D-Daddy, please daddy, please let me taste you" 

"Fuck. That's a good boy!" Jerry beamed with pride. Get on your knees for me honey, show us what you can do" 

Fully immersed in the role of obedient boy, Elvis dropped to his knees, placing slow kisses up from his ankle to his thigh. "You like teasing Daddy?" Jerry gasped, grabbing ahold of a dangling strand of Elvis' hair. "Bad boy!" He gritted his teeth at the sweet sensation of perfectly soft lips and leaned down to take Elvis' face in his hands, forcing him to look up into his lust filled eyes. "But you make me feel so goddamn good. Just get that pretty mouth around Daddy" 

Lapping up the praise and cautious of disobeying 'Daddy' Elvis let his lips hum around the very tip of Jerry's cock, tasting the familiar salty tang of his pre cum. "Atta boy" Jerry's dominant voice now became needy at the already amazing feeling of his boss' mouth.

Elvis smiled warmly, beginning to suck painfully softly at the wet head, making Jerry buck his hips in heated need. Ann had returned to sitting on the breakfast bar stool to get a better view of the oral show, her bare toes curling around the metal foot rest. She had her arms firmly folded across her chest, and although her legs were spread open she opted to stop rubbing herself, wanting the boys to bring her to climax instead.

Elvis had now gotten into the act fully, his cheeks hollowed as he took Jerry's cock fully in, despite Jerry being huge he took him like he was made to do it. He had practiced enough times, he himself knew how good he was at it.

It was proven when Jerry hissed as his cock hit Elvis' throat repeatedly, Elvis' head bobbing back and forth, his nose touching the thick patch of brown curls above his dick. As he encouraged Elvis by pushing his head, through glazed eyes he looked over at Ann, taking her beauty in. "D-darling, lemme see those tits" The sentence took a lot of effort from Jerry. From his eyes devouring her pretty little feet,smooth legs and toned belly to her perfectly round, sizeable breasts and her breathtaking face surrounded by auburn locks, Jerry could see why Elvis had started an affair with her.

"You look hungry,Jer" Ann grinned at the way Jerry was mentally fucking her, but instead of replying Jerry allowed his eyes to shut as Elvis sped up his movement against him, his mouth tightening as much as possible around his cock. 

"F-f-fuckin' ell boss! Y-you c-could do this f-for a l-living!" Jerry groaned out in ecstasy, Elvis' lips bringing pure bliss to his almost ready to spill cock. Elvis blushed at the thought. Nah, he did it with people he trusted because he liked doing it. He was no damn rent boy.

To his disappointment Elvis removed his lips from Jerry with a wet popping sound but didn't leave his cock be for long, he tugged his length vigorously for a few seconds before putting him back in his mouth, where he knew he wanted to be most. 

"F-F-FUCK E..." Jerry groaned out from within in desperate need to climax. "O-oh that's a good boy, k-keep s-sucking" He ground his head firmly against the cold wall and let his mouth fall open into a 'o' shape. Elvis worked his tongue firmly against Jerry's tip until he could feel his whole cock throbbing and his stomach muscles tensing. 

"GOD,HOLY FUCK.." Jerry's strong hand shot down to hold onto Elvis by the hair as he began to climax with a loud groan, shooting his hot cum into Elvis' gorgeous mouth, no matter how much Elvis swallowed there always seemed to be more. Finally Jerry stilled and his heavy stream stopped. Elvis pulled away his lips which had been left dripping with saliva and semen. 

"Wow. Did so good baby" Jerry panted with a worn out smile as he came down from his high. "Ann! We've both cum..goddamn pleaseee let us please you now!" "Please baby" Elvis whined.

Ann's eyes lit up at the men's pleading and she was flooded with excitement by the prospect of pleasure to come. "So damn desperate, boys" She smirked teasingly, dropping her feet to the floor and striding over to Elvis who was still on his knees.

"Give Mommy a taste of Daddy's cum, baby boy" Ann knelt on the floor in front of Elvis and stroked his cheek, feeling his skin heat up. He couldn't help but quiver when she gently sucked on his bottom lip, ridding it completely of the drip of Jerry's seed.

Jerry ran his fingers through his hair, flustered by the sight of his cum being transfered from Elvis to Ann. "Goddamn mama, get over here" Ann noted the rough horniness in his voice despite having just cum.

He pulled her frame tight to him, backing them both into the wall and passionately kissing her, his large hands roaming down curves and squeezing at her ass. She gave a moan into his lips and ran her hands over his sweat coated arms. Elvis rose from his knees, desperate for contact as he leaned into Ann from behind, his erection now fully sprung into life and pressed against her buttock. She shivered as his full lips nibbled at her sensitive neck, it thrilled her just how needy he was.

"Aw, baby boy ready to fuck?" Ann spun around and turned her attention to Elvis, her tone full of teasing. She brought her hand down to his cock and pulled his uncut foreskin back, thumbing it, making him tremble with how sensitive he was. "M-M-Mommy, p-please" Ann squealed and Jerry hollered at the unexpected word. Elvis blushed beet red and covered his mouth with his hands as though the words were involuntary. 

Jerry came away from Ann and whispered down Elvis' ear just loud enough for her to hear "Now that ain't fair E! I had to beg ya to call me Daddy and you blurt out Mommy just like that.. was it her sweet lil hand on your uncut cock that did it for ya?" Elvis whimpered like a puppy who's paw had just been stood on, burying his face in Ann's neck for comfort. 

They both knew how sensitive Elvis was, just the feeling of his foreskin being toyed with for more than a minute was enough to make him spill all over himself. "Such a good boy" She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and ran her fingers soothingly over his jet black sideburns. "You wanna make Mommy feel good?" Ann cooed to him as Jerry took a greedy handful of his rounded ass. 

Elvis pulled away from Ann's shoulder and nodded his head submissively with wide eyes. "Shall we have a little fun with some sweet stuff? The boys knew Ann's question was rhetorical and both of their eyes lit up, Elvis' with knowing and Jerry's with anticipation of what was to come. Elvis had been elated the first time Ann had introduced him to using whipped cream in the bedroom.

"Been waiting far too long to get off" She laughed with a glint in her eyes as she walked towards the fridge, it wasn't as though she hadn't enjoyed the build up. As she pulled open the refrigerator door and set eyes on the side draw top shelf where the sweet stuff in question-A can of whipped cream-sat, something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. A certain phallic shaped fruit.

She decided to pick it up and inspect it. Her eyes roamed the fair girth and slid over the impressive length, the devil on her shoulder whispering to her how it could serve so much more than just it's original use.

"A cucumber? Fuck. You want us to...?" Jerry was practically salivating at the unholy thoughts running through his head.

"I've seen a certain kind of..film..that had a gal fuckin herself with one of those!" Elvis sounded proud of his declaration.

Ann placed the cucumber on the kitchen table, then the cream, looking from Jerry to Elvis. "It's as good an object as any to get fucked with!" She grinned widely. "But a girl likes a bit of foreplay first"

Grabbing the can of cream and sliding the lid off, she pressed down on the trigger and squirted a generous amount onto her right breast then repeated the action with the left, moaning at the cold but arousing sensation.

"This cream ain't gonna lick itself off" She used both hands to pull herself up so she was sat on the table, putting herself on display. Elvis and Jerry licked their lips in unison, both stalking towards her bare body like hunters catching their prey. 

"Now I'm not ashamed to admit I've got an awful sweet tooth, almost as much as our boy" Jerry gave Ann a quick but heavy kiss on the lips before Elvis did the same. At the same time both men brought their mouth to her breast, Jerry diving his face right in, getting cream all over, messily lapping it up and sucking roughly on her nipple. 

Elvis was far more sensual, caressing the skin around the cream, taking his time to lick it up. When he'd cleaned all the cream off he wrapped his plump lips around her erect nipple and sucked tenderly, his fingers brushing up and down her thigh.

A high pitched series of "Oh"s escaped her lips at the feelings Elvis and Jerry were bringing her. But she needed more. She needed to climax. She could feel herself dripping down her legs "Oh god, just eat me out!" Her demand wasn't aimed specifically at any one of the boys but Elvis whimpered at the idea.

"I would normally fight a guy to eat some pussy but I think you..." Jerry ran his fingers down the side of her face "...Deserve the best. And my boss is the best..hell, I'm sure I don't have to tell ya." Ann smirked knowingly at Elvis who was now blushing.

"Aw. Don't go all coy on us. You know that pretty mouth of yours is talented, and I'm not just talking about your singing, Presley!" Elvis hung his head, embarrassed. He was always embarrassed about praise although he craved it, he loved pleasing.

And so, he got to pleasing. Jerry groped at Ann's breasts, placing rough kisses along her neck as Elvis showered her with gentle kisses from her dangling ankles up to her inner thighs, relishing her little moans that grew everytime his mouth made contact with the smooth skin.

He paused when he finally got to her aching core, using two fingers to lightly stroke over her dripping lips. He did this repeatedly, mercilessly, until she started wriggling underneath him. "Please Elvis..you're driving Mommy insane!" His eyes were gleaming at the power he had and the fact he was doing so well.

"It's ok Mommy. Gonna make you cum" It sounded strange to hear him say the word Mommy yet he was the one reassuring her. She didn't give a toss, though. All she cared about was the inevitable moment she came on his wanting lips.

Ann didn't recognise the noise coming from herself as Elvis finally licked all the way across her pussy. It wasn't gentle. It was hard, dragged out, full of pressure. But his kisses were gentle. He kissed at her labia, gripping tightly onto her thighs as she began to tremble. Jerry was adding to the wetness that pooled over her, whispering dirty words right into her ear about how he couldn't wait to bury his cock deep inside her.

When Elvis decided she had been teased enough he stopped kissing and stuck his tongue right inside her soaking hole, groaning as though he was the one being pleasured. All of a sudden his cock felt like it was going to explode, he enjoyed the sweet taste and the noises and movements she made so much, it was enough for him to feel close to climax.

Ann was perplexed when he withdrew his tongue completely but then she saw his hand reach for the can of cream and soon felt it chilling her red hot clit. 

She felt flames pricking her entire body as he licked it all up, her toes curling when he'd licked her clean and his tongue was darting against her bare clitorus. "OOH-OH-PRESLEY..gonna make me cum if you keep doing that" 

He groaned out around her "Shit, think I-I-I'm gonna cum with ya" Jerry laughed loudly at the admission. "I'm not even damn suprised, boy. Sensitive little fuck!" Elvis ignored the laughter and wrapped his soft lips around her clit, sucking gently until her legs began to close around his head and her eyes fell shut and she cried out through her orgasm "OH FUCK baby, I'm cuming" 

As her legs shook around him his own climax came, making him cry out and pull his foreskin back harshly as he ejaculated onto his rounded stomach. "Jesus, boss!That's fuckin hot." As Ann opened her eyes and came out of her haze she saw Elvis looking down in disgust at the sticky mess he'd made. 

"Hot damn. How about I clean it off for ya?" Jerry's dick was throbbing at his idea but Elvis protested.

"Nah. I'll get rid of it!" Elvis didn't say it out loud but Jerry and Ann knew he was insecure about his weight and his stomach being touched. "How about we both do? Let Mommy and Daddy clean you up, please." He whined but didn't protest as Ann came down from the table and got onto her knees beside Jerry, grabbing hold of Elvis' love handle. 

From each side she and Jerry started licking the white substance, all the way down the trail that had dripped down his legs. "So good..doing so good baby" Jerry looked up and saw from Elvis' expression that he was actually enjoying the attention. 

"He's so beautiful" Ann cooed as she licked the final drops from his leg. "He.." "..sure" "..is" Jerry placed kisses onto Elvis' belly with each word, delighted when Elvis buried his chin against his own shoulder in an attempt to hide his coy smile at the praise. He was already half hard again.

"See!You liked that! You make me so fuckin hard,boss" Jerry's horniness came through in his deep voice. Ann was in the perfect position to take hold of his dick and tug on it without warning. 

"Damn woman. Won't take much doing 'fore I'm spilling all over. But I wanna hear our boy's sweet voice talking dirty to me. How ''bout you tell me all about your wedding night..all the dirty details!" Elvis looked flustered. He swallowed hard.

"Ok..if it'll make ya happy...d-d-daddy" Jerry beamed hearing the word come out of Elvis' mouth without having to ask. "Oh it would!" Ann returned her hand to sliding up and down Jerry's dick, going slowly, wanting to prolong the build up to his climax. 

"You don't mind if he talks about Cilla, do ya?" Jerry looked at Ann in anticipation. Relief washed over him when she giggled. "I'm not one to get jealous. I don't care about our boy being shared" 

Jerry got up from his knees and kissed Elvis who had sat himself on one of the kitchen stools "Go ahead. Tell us what you and your lil virgin bride got up to" 

Elvis swallowed hard and gazed at the floor while speaking "She started teasin me when we were all eatin.. I wasn't expecting it, I was joking with the boys..with you..." He looked up at Jerry very briefly. "Holy shit E, I didn't even notice!" Jerry groaned after his sentence as Ann had wrapped her lips around his girthy cock head.

"I had a damn hard time keeping quiet. I just felt her lil hand come from no where. She started gripping my thigh.." Elvis gripped his own thigh in demonstration "Then before I knew it she was rubbin my cock over my trousers.." He closed his eyes and rubbed at the foreskin of his now fully hard dick. 

"I-I-I tried to tell her to s-stop or I was gonna cum but s-she kept on..my underpants were sopping wet, god knows how it didn't seep right through" He continued playing with his foreskin, rubbing it between his thumb and finger and letting out a small groan.

"Fuck E. So you came all over your pants right in front of me and I didn't even know" Jerry's voice was heavy with lust, Ann still had her mouth wrapped around him and had wasted no time in taking him fully and sucking with enthusiasm, moaning around his cock.

"You've got no idea..how much that turns Daddy on. Tell me what happened when you got to the bedroom" Jerry thrusted his hips forward with heated need, closing his eyes readying to imagine the scene Elvis was about to describe. Ann felt her core throb at Jerry calling himself Daddy and just had to begin rubbing her finger over her clit.

Elvis had now pulled back his foreskin and revealed his dripping tip. "Well I was trying to make it all special ya know, trying to be sweet but...people think she's all innocent Jer but she's not..as soon as we got to the room she was like a wild animal,man." 

"Oh fuck" Jerry groaned at Elvis' words along with Ann licking at his sensitive head, it was driving him closer to the edge. 

"She practically tore my suit off. Then she climbed on top of me. She was so damn tight Jer, I-I-I couldn't help it, her p-p-pussy was like a vice and she was talkin real dirty about me c-cumin inside her then she started c-clenching around my c-cock. Folk think s-s-she's all innocent but she's not Jer-l-lord when she started ridin' me....my balls were empty by the time she got me ragging at her h-hair" 

Jerry could picture crystal clearly everything Elvis was describing and Ann moaning on her knees below him, her lips tight around his cock almost sending him crashing over the edge before he managed to back away from Ann and pant out "Fuck me, E..god, your Daddy needs your cock inside him" 

#big daddy elvis #elvis presely smut #ann margret #jerry schilling

[tsunael]

BENCHMARK TIME

It's beautiful (for the most part).

I think with our new fantasia I'll be darkening Tsuna's eyes (I've been wanting to do this anyway), shrinking her from 69 to 50 (lmao), and lengthening her tail from 69 to 100 (lol lmao). I love the new texture on the horns and how they look kind of weathered!! They have a subtle shine and you can see little scratches and dents in them that make them look really natural.

I also noticed they gave lil winged eyeliner!! It's difficult to see with her hair but it gives the eye 2 such a nice shape.

Limbal rings look really good and the lighter colors are emissive now when they weren't before. I won't be using them but I really appreciate the change.

A little disappointed that lipstick no longer gives the lips a shine so it's all matte now which is a strange change. No lip gloss in Tural I guess. And they didn't fix Au Ra not having a proper red lip but oh well.

Her lips were my favorite part about her and they really changed the shape so it'll take time getting used to lmao. I don't mind too much though. Her RBF got even stronger and I'm afraid of her.

Valtyrja looks amazing 😭 I'll be changing her ear shape and warming her skin tone because while the darker skin looks much better than it did, I think it made it look a bit ashy on a lot of tones which is a little disappointing. I've heard similar opinions on twitter... BUT light shines through their ears now and it's incredible.

My thancred alt... uh. Well, he has acne now.

#benchmark aauuguh #I'm so excited help #au ra