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#he's their precious cargo
hood-ex · 4 months
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So anyway when are we gonna get a story where Dick's helping a mother amidst chaos, and he's like, "Here let me hold your baby for a second." And so he takes the baby but then it's like mass amounts of people pushing and shoving, and Dick and the mom get separated, so now it's just Dick and this baby, and he's trying to find the mom. Except that's when the baddie that's causing chaos spots Dick, so now Dick is hustling and swinging across rooftops with this baby, and he's getting further and further from the mom, but he can't stop or else the baby might get hurt in the crossfire.
He does, however, spot some people hiding in a less crowded/chaotic section of the city, so he quickly jumps down and is like, "Watch the baby for me, and if you do anything to hurt her, you won't have any teeth to eat breakfast with tomorrow."
Then it's literally just Dick trying to end his fight with the baddie as quickly as possible so he can get back to the baby and find the mom. But then! Dun, dun, dun, duuuun! Dick finishes the fight and goes to retrieve the baby, only to find that the people he left the baby with are gone.
So now Dick's sweating, and he's gonna have a breakdown if he can't find this baby. He once kept a baby alive for 10 days in the desert, he'll be damned if anything happens to this one.
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peppermint-toads · 2 months
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picturing simon not knowing how to turn off the scary military driving and turn on the less urgent, civilian driving.
he almost kills you every time you’re in the car.
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fondlyfonding · 7 months
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upallnighttogetlehky · 4 months
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youtube
Who Is Jonathan Drouin?
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crackshots-a · 5 months
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( HAPPY BRITHDAY PROMPTO! | @lunabrae )
when lunafreya pulls up in noctis's car, she is a frazzled mess of a woman. hair strewn about by the wind, two dogs piled and wriggling in the back seat, and assorted flowers, gifts, and bags all giving the impression of a very cramped five-seater. she stops abruptly at his person, struggling with the parking brake before the vehicle stops with a jolt. umbra and pryna seem unphased by such a minor detail, practically stumbling over themselves to meet prompto by the street side. lunafreya dons a headscarf and sunglasses, both a feeble attempt at concealing her identity. ( in such a nice car? and her exceedingly ... royal aura. ) still, she turns her cheek in greeting, reaching over to push the passenger door ajar. " what. a. coincidence. prompto argentum ! " feigning ignorance, she pulls on her most playful grin, bordering on wolfish. " i believe, i've just cleared your schedule. " despite all of the clutter, lunafreya seemed to have lovingly carved out a place for him to sit. the passenger seat lay mysteriously pristine, save for his favorite drink in the cupholder, and letter addressed to him on the dashboard. though, she doesn't allow him any time to savor such things, already beginning to drive off, car lurching forward as she pulls back onto the road, not bothering to look behind her. (not like she could, with everything in the car.) their 'outing' is supposed to be a surprise. all his friends had rented out galdin quay , still setting up the event as they spoke. her job was to distract him enough for him not to notice. lunafreya believed such a feat could be achieved without lying to him, given her dogs were rowdy enough, and driving just above reckless. " happy birthday ! " she narrowly avoids a pothole.
it was a car–––– noctis' car, to be exact–––– nearly peeling around the corner that caught his attention. he recognized it immediately, & confusion closely followed. noctis wasn't the best driver ( that title proudly went to ignis ), but prompto had never seen him drive like that. the mystery became clear as the car drew closer & he caught sight of the driver. lunafreya, in a disguise that concealed absolutely nothing at all, stopped the car in a way that made his stomach lurch at the sight, & even through the distraction of the dogs' greetings, he knew that the unsubtle opening of the passenger car door was a silent invitation for him.
as he gave umbra & pryna once last scratch behind the ears, he finally caught sight of luna's expression, & it left him feeling like prey–––– but, not in the bad way. not in the way that would have stopped him from getting into the seat beside her.
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  ❝ oh, yeah, totally a coincidence that you'd show up here in my neighborhood on my birthday, knowing i don't have any plans with––––.  ❞
though he'd noticed the gifts upon luna's arrival, the distraction of the car & the dogs & the leering had stopped him from recognizing the extent of the presents piled in the back seats. his head shook, shaking off the shock as he finally allowed himself to settle in the passenger seat. his friends were never one to do things by halves, but he still felt the need to ask.
❝ no way those are all for me, right? we've gotta be dropping those off at someone else's party or somethi–––– oooh, is that a green smoothie? where'd you find someone who could make that all the way up here? ❞
normally, he'd have to travel to galdin to indulge, but there was one in the cupholder closest to him, & he didn't hesitate to reach for it. once he'd taken a sip & begun to settle, he noticed the letter addressed to him on the dashboard. &, though he was able to take it, opening it quickly become secondary to buckling his seatbelt as luna pulled back onto the road with a high speed & a sudden twist of the steering wheel. his  ❝ uh, thank you!  ❞ probably sounded a little more panicked than he intended, but the sentiment was genuine. he would never not be touched by his friends' insistence to celebrate him on the one day he felt he was allowed to let them.
but, he'd have to talk to noctis about travel arrangements for next year's mystery celebration.
      ❝ hey–––– d'you want me to drive?  ❞ if he made it to his next birthday, that was.
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reddragon-cowboy · 8 months
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You really want that Hal kid hanging around?
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Ask my Muse about their relationships with other Muses!
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Silence leaves his lips stabile of any movement for a moment, but due to the number of seconds that ticked away on the clock, one may wonder if he even heard the question at all. But ten seconds passes when finally, there's a slight shift in his limbs, angling his upper body sideways a tiny bit towards the viewer. And half-lid eyes reveal impassivity that rests heavy upon his wan expression, looking exhausted and weary of this life.
" . . . Does it look like I want that kid hangin' around me ? " No trace of emotion surfaces in his tone as bluntness permeates his every breath with every word. Spike claims to hate kids, and HATE is a strong word, but that claim typically vanishes like smoke the moment a youngster gains his favor in a short span of time. But in Hal's case ? Well, skepticism keeps his eyes wide open, posture standing tall as he stays on high alert and attentive to schemes and mischievous ideas that might potentially swirl around in her head.
His perspective regarding the cyber-criminal will determine solely on how things pan out in their arrangement, but thus far, she seems to be in ( unwilling) compliance of their agreement for the time being. " She's merely insurance in case she don’t keep her word and things fall through. Can't really trust these types. . . "
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Is Omega's favorite type of music rock and roll? 😂
IT IS NOW BECAUSE HE’S A CHEEKY DORK😂😂😂
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byebyebichette · 11 months
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Actually fuck it 425 for life 😭
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finndoesntwantthis · 1 year
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BOYS HOW DID YOU LET HIM GET AWAY AND KICK YOUR MAN LIKE THAT????? BAD BUCKS 😡
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rooolt · 2 years
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Can we all pleeeeaaaaassse be normal about Norman next week, I beg
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bi-curious-robot · 3 months
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he so fucking tiny im sobbing
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ghouljams · 6 days
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I can't stop thinking about Ghost with a motorcycle. The man dwarfs just about everything, but somehow he manages to find a nice either 600cc or 1000cc that fits him and he's set. He takes it everywhere, stares down cops and revs for the pretty things that wave at him from cars. All his gear is black, his helmet is tinted and he looks like a modern interpretation of death, but he also breaks to let turtles cross the road and doesn't let anyone on his bike without a helmet.
Backpacking for him is such a treat because he'll reach back and rub his hand along your leg at stoplights, tell you to "be good" every time you start squeezing somewhere you shouldn't. The man is a little bit of a stretch to get your legs around, but leaning against his back and watching the world whizz by is amazing. He always checks all your gear is on properly before starting the engine too, adjusting the strap on your helmet and bumping his black one against your more colorful one, helping you onto the bike even when you don't need it, and giving a little jolt forward to make you cling to him. The man knows what he's doing, and he's not going to risk precious cargo like you, but that doesn't mean you won't enjoy having you cuddled close and hugging him the whole ride.
He follows your directions every time you pat his leg to signal a turn, and stands around while you run into shops or up to ice cream vendors. What's he supposed to do? Say no? Not a chance.
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imperihoe-writes · 7 months
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After Hours
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley / fem!Reader
Summary:  It's always good to let off some steam during particularly demanding missions, but this time Ghost needs to give the Reader some extra attention to get her out of work mode. 
Content:  unprotected sex, cowgirl, oral, fingering, mate press ↳ call-sign for the reader is Wasp, no other name mentions
Word Count:  2k
Notes: An idea I had a little while ago, and since I'm having a long weekend... I thought I'd write some filth ✊🏻😔 I imagine Wasp to take on a similar role as Q in James Bond. NOT FOR MINORS.
(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚ ♡
"Fuckin' hell, look at you," Ghost grunted as he palmed the ass cheeks pressed on his lap, fingers digging into soft flesh none too gently, just how they both liked it. 
Wasp breathed heavily above him, tight shirt clinging to her stomach and chest as she circled her hips and allowed Ghost to slide deeper into her inch by inch.
Sweat made dark curls stick to her nape and temples, the hot and dry air wafting in through the office window bringing no relief. They'd been at it for a little while, with Ghost's mask hitched up over his mouth and nose, soft lips and sharp teeth closing around the fabric obscuring her boobs, biting into one of the sensitive nipples. 
They both groaned as her rhythm stuttered and Wasp clenched around Ghost's cock, her hands on his tactical vest and shoulders pulling him closer. Her thighs shook around his waist, tired but desperate all the same. 
She tried to let go, to just be in the moment with the man that had started to haunt most of her waking hours on the field and off, but something wasn‘t clicking that night. 
Wasp couldn't stop thinking about the third leg of the mission, wondered if her colleague pulling through the night shift was doing everything they had discussed, how long it would take them to contact her if anything went wrong, and did she leave her phone on loud? Maybe she should check in with them just in case-
"You still with me, luv?" 
It was hard to tell with him sometimes, but Ghost sounded amused.
"Yeah," she breathed out, moving her hips again but winced a little at the drag in her core, how the glide wasn't as smooth anymore. All the slickness that had practically been pouring out of her when she spotted the bulky frame of her favourite Lieutenant hovering in the door seemed to have dried up sometime between then and now. 
Way to fucking go, Wasp. 
The tremors in her thighs had gotten worse, and she was hardly able to push herself up and down anymore. When was the last time she had slept again? She could have sworn it had been yesterday, or perhaps the morning before that-
Big hands stilled her hips, Ghost's cargo pants and metal zipper pressing into the sensitive flesh of her pussy as he shifted. They rarely talked when they fucked, a silent agreement to leave shit behind for the precious minutes they were able to steal here and there. His mouth found her cheek and jaw as Ghost circled his thumbs over her hipbones. 
Riding him was one of her guilty pleasures, simply because of the fact that the Englishman often turned into such a needy panting mess below her. But she wouldn't be able to like this, and they had run out of lube last week.
Her phone screen flashed brightly once, and her eyes immediately darted towards it, anxious. So it was on silent after all. Wasp could have sworn she hadn't turned off the volume, but with the slight fuzziness that always accompanied lack of sleep, she couldn't be too sure. 
But maybe it was an agent in the field messaging her off-the-clock or her team mate had run into trouble after all-
Ghost slid his calloused hands underneath her thighs, lifting her off of him with ease. His still-hard dick slid out of her slowly, and she moaned a little at the hot wetness of his crown as he kept fucking just the tip back into her, pre-cum easing the way but not quite enough.
Frustration at her body's inability to perform for him made her clamp up even more and Wasp sighed in irritation.
Ghost's half-lidded eyes roamed over her face in the dark, and she saw him open his scarred lips to say something when her phone lit up on the desk again. He saw her gaze flicker over to it, and laughed softly, mockingly.
"No, I don't think so," he said, voice dark.
Suddenly, her world tilted and Ghost was above her, heavy body pressing hers into the soft leather of the couch she'd been fucking him on. He pulled off his mask entirely, blonde curls hanging low over his eyes as he stared down at her, legs spread open around his waist and flushed.
He straightened up a little more, and Wasp could see sweat running down his neck as Ghost slowly unclasped his tactical vest before letting it fall to the ground with soft clinking noises. His shirt followed suit, and she had to bite her lip hard to hold back any embarrassing sounds of pleasure at the sight of him. 
I'm not a teenage girl fawning over a movie star, she reminded herself, but it was hard to hold onto that thought when Ghost looked like an evil god hovering over her, ready to steal her away in the middle of the night.
His hands slid under the hem of her shirt, pulling it up until her breasts and hard nipples were exposed, dark eyes gleaming at the lack of a bra. 
Ghost leaned down to capture the same one he had bitten into earlier in his mouth, tongue running over the sensitive skin until she panted. He supported her lower back as she arched into him, eyes closed now and breathing in his musky scent.
Ghost sucked her nipple for a moment, leaving a wet trail as his mouth moved lower and over her ribs and soft stomach. He knelt in front of the low couch, pulling Wasp insistently closer by the hips again until she closed her thighs around his head and rested them on his shoulders with a shudder.
"Simon," she pleaded, tired but horny beyond anything she'd felt in ages. 
He smirked into the skin of her thigh, then buried his face between her legs completely, licking a slow wet trail from her entrance to her clit. Wasp convulsed a little at the sensation, mouth opening, but before she had the chance to say anything more, Ghost had sucked her clit into that talented mouth, tonguing it.
A high-pitched sound escaped her throat, and fingernails dug into the smooth leather beneath her as Ghost licked and sucked, his mouth coated from her newly gushing juices and his spit. Thick fingers buried themselves inside her pussy, stretching and curling as he pumped them in and out.
Her orgasm tore through her unexpectedly, hot waves and tingles accumulating in her legs and belly as she came, twitching and panting underneath him.
Ghost was slow to stop, overstimulating her with a glint in his eyes. He stared at her from between her thighs, pale lashes brushing his cheekbones. 
Withdrawing only a little, he wiped his mouth with a quirk of his lips, but she was already propping herself up further on her elbows and leaned down to kiss him with all the fucked-out bliss she felt. His smile faded as he kissed her back urgently, huge body enveloping her as Wasp pulled him up and over.
His cock throbbed between them as he came to rest near her glistening folds, and Ghost groaned from the slick slide, long fingers covering both himself and her pussy with enough pressure to send shocks of pleasure through her sensitive clit whenever his thick head brushed over it.
Suddenly, Ghost was kissing her again, tongue playing with hers as they both panted and then he grabbed the underside of her knees firmly, pushing them back and back. Towards her torso, until her ankles were somewhere over his shoulders and everything on display for his hungry gaze. 
Folded in half as she was, there was little more that Wasp could do than take it. He didn't even need to use his hands to guide himself, Ghost was precise and patient enough to nudge her relaxed entrance with his cock on the first try, and then he slid back in.
Wasp's eyes rolled into the back of her head as her breath hitched. He was a big man all over, but something about this position made him feel even thicker and longer than usual. There was no telling where Ghost began and she ended, his cock so deep and hot inside of her that it made her see stars. 
He didn't give her much time to adjust, but that suited Wasp just fine. His hips snapped up into her, wet sounds between them as Ghost pushed her knees into her chest and simply took his pleasure, used her body how he wanted. He split her open over and over again, withdrawing almost completely before driving back down into her pussy, one knee supporting himself on the couch with the other foot still firmly on the ground.
Wasp clawed into the leather, moaning for real this time until she worried that somebody might hear. Ghost bit into the skin next to her knee as his hips jerked and waist flexed, the throbbing cock inside dragging over her spongy walls.
"Hold it," he commanded her, and without thinking, Wasp slid one of her own hands into place behind her right knee, holding on for dear life as Ghost slid his thumb into the small space between them, circling her clit with so much pressure that she arched into him. He reached places that no other man ever had inside of her, the sensation almost painful but addicting. Her pussy spasmed around him as he continued to circle and rub her, his hot breath hitting her neck, pretty face screwed up in pleasure at the way Wasp tightened around him again and again. 
Her second climax was slower to build, but just as intense as the first. She had to slap her other hand over her mouth to muffle the high keening noise in her throat, Ghost groaning softly over and over as his thrusts became jerky and impossibly deeper.
It only took him a few seconds longer, then she felt him throb heavily and withdraw in haste, just as the first spurts of hot semen shot out of him and over her stomach. Ghost pressed himself closer, crushing her a little under his weight as he chased through his orgasm, dick trapped between them as it slid through his own release and her juices.
They both panted deeply, sweaty and satisfied. The faint glow of the desert moon illuminated his face in a way that made her blush. Gently releasing her leg, Ghost pulled her knees and thighs around his waist before flipping them around with a deep sigh. 
He was still wearing his cargo pants and they chaved her a little, but Wasp didn't care enough to complain. His big, heavy hand came to rest on her hair and she snuggled closer to him, uncaring about the mess between them as her eyes fell shut and their breathing evened out.
On the desk, her phone lit up once more with the third message in a row, a small soap emoji glowing next to the group chat notifications.
They still have tickets for the Barbie premiere!
Anyone still awake? 
Okay, I booked like six seats so you daft cunts better show up tomorrow.
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My first tumblr work for COD! I hope you liked it, I‘ll be updating the masterlist whenever I post something new! ✨
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lovebugism · 2 months
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shy! reader request: eddie & reader having their first sleepover? reader bein all cautious about her actions and if it’s ok and eddie seeing this just lifts up the blankets to the bed to welcome her in to snuggle :)
love love love this request! hope you enjoy :D — eddie tries to make his shy!gf feel at home in his trailer (fluff, new relationship hijinks, 2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Despite what people say, Eddie Munson does not drive like a maniac.
Correction— Eddie Munson doesn’t drive like a maniac when there’s a pretty girl in his van.
Even though you’re pretty much the first girl to be in his van period (and even though you wouldn’t consider yourself all that pretty), you’re glad to be an exception to the rule. Your panoply of anxieties couldn’t have handled anything more than the passably steady car ride from Benny’s Burgers to Forest Hills.
You don’t mean to let out a sigh of relief when he parks in his driveway.
Eddie grins and unlatches his seatbelt with a soft click at the same time you do. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks with eyes just as wild as his hair.
You shake your head with your lips pursed to the side, then peer at him from beneath your lashes. “After everything Steve said, I was expecting a lot worse,” you confess. And even though you duck away from him, Eddie can still see the small smile on your petaled mouth. Just as quiet as you are.
“Well, one, don’t listen to anything Steve says, okay? Like, ever,” Eddie cajoles lightheartedly. “And two, I don’t drive crazy when I have precious cargo sitting next to me, alright? Stevie’s just jealous ‘cause I think you’re prettier than he is.”
Your nose scrunches as you try to worm your way out of his compliment. “So you think Steve’s pretty?” you tease, already knowing the answer.
He scoffs. “Totally! Just not pretty like you. And don’t tell him I said that either— It’ll just go to his hair.”
The incorrect turn of phrase makes you giggle.
He turns his knees towards the door and curls his fingers around the latch. “Wait for me a second, will ya?” you hear him mumble before he hops to the ground. He slams the door shut behind him and rounds the hood on his way to you — sneakers crunching against the gravel, momentarily aglow with yellow headlights.
He’d done this before at the diner. You wait patiently for his arrival like you did then, even though you feel a bit silly doing so. You’re more than capable of getting out yourself, but Eddie always insists. 
He opens the passenger side door for you with a tightlipped, lopsided grin and holds his free hand out towards you. His fingers are larger and much warmer than yours as they wrap around your palm to guide you out. 
The van isn’t that high up off the ground, really. He just likes to hold your hand.
You don’t mind it, though. You’ll take any opportunity to hold him back.
He leads you up the driveway and inside the trailer with his hand entwined with yours. “Wayne’s not here?” you murmur when you’re finally inside, noticing how quiet and empty the place is. 
Though maybe empty’s not the right word. The place is filled with stuff — old furniture, a collection of mugs, and various other necessities. Not a mess, just an organized chaos of miscellaneous clutter. It feels like a home. Like a place that’s been lived in.
“No. He’s at work. Graveyard shift,” Eddie answers, tossing his keys onto the coffee table with a high-pitched clack. 
He starts to shrug off his leather jacket and notices how squirrelly you seem, all skittish with your face twisted with a distant worry. Your neck twitches softly, head tilting once to the side and back up again. Your quiet concern becomes his own.
His brows raise, hidden beneath his curly bangs, as he slides the fabric down his tattooed arms. “Is that okay?” he wonders, eyes wide and twinkling with apprehension.
“Yeah!” you answer, louder and quicker than you mean to. You’re obviously overcompensating, but you shrug it off anyway. You smile sweetly at him, even though it wavers at the edges, and tilt your cheek to your shoulder. “I was just— It was just a question.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“‘Cause it’s okay if you don’t wanna stay the night,” Eddie assures you, giving you an out so you don’t have to make one yourself. “It’s whatever, you know? Give me the word, and I’ll take you back home. I’ll just spend the night all alone… In an empty trailer… In bed all by myself…”
His quiet smirk widens to a broader beam when he nears you. His pale hands curl around your arms, the faded bats below his thumb sitting neatly outside your elbow. 
He’s joking, of course. Well, not about the taking you home part, but about all the rest of it. 
He thinks he’d die if he ever made you feel anything less than totally safe. Dying would feel easier, at least. He’d never make you feel bad about being anxious, or coerce you into hiding your feelings for his sake. He cares about you far too much for any of that.
So his tense heart rests a bit when you smile.
“I’m okay,” you tell him, quiet but still sincere. 
The boy brightens all at once. Excited in such an innocent, boyish way. “So I get to kiss you all night long?” he wonders in a disbelieving murmur.
“Only if you want,” you answer with burning cheeks and clammy hands.
“Well, I do want… I want very much…”
He kisses you then, until your lungs run out of air. Standing together in the middle of his living room, lit by so many yellow lamps, with the croaking of frogs and the chittering of crickets sounding in the navy blue night.
He pulls away sometime after. Maybe a second. Maybe an eon or more. He recovers from being so ardently kissed much quicker than you do and guides you down the short hallway to the single bedroom. You still feel the imprint of his mouth against yours, like he’s still there. 
Your lips tingle with longing, grieving the lack of him.
You still make him turn around before you change, though.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he teases from the very center of his mattress, right before turning onto his stomach and shoving his face into the pillow.
“It’s different,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you slide the sleeves of your dress down your shoulders. The fabric falls to the carpeted floor in a puddle at your feet. You make quick work of redressing, as though there were some kinda time limit to what you had asked of him.
“I know,” he replies, muffled into the cushion his cheek is smushed against. “You’re still pretty, though.”
“You can’t even see me,” you argue and slide a pair of frilly sleep shorts over your thighs.
“I’d still think you were pretty even if I never saw you again.”
“Jeez,” you laugh, shoving your head through the neckline of a band-tee older than you are.
“…That sounded kinda morbid, huh?”
You giggle again. This time because his voice is still smothered into the pillow, stifled and utterly faint. “Just a little,” you answer.
“Well, it was supposed to be a compliment.”
“I know. You can turn around now.”
Eddie lifts his wild head and peeks at you over his shoulder, one eye squinted shut just in case he heard you wrong.
You’re less dressed up than before, but still as pretty as you were ten minutes ago. 
The subtle domesticity of seeing you in pajamas makes his chest ache. It’s like doing laundry or making a shopping list — something so utterly mundane that’s so strikingly tender.
“Pretty,” Eddie mumbles some moments later, when his brain forgets every word but that one.
“Shut up.”
Your hands wring together as you idle at his bedside, like you need some kinda invitation to come closer. Your head tilts again, a gentle swaying of your head that seems almost involuntary.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Eddie wonders with a soft pink, inquisitive grin. 
‘Cause this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. You did it earlier, when you first walked in, and a couple times at the dinner. Like when you catch him staring or after he’s complimented you. It’s almost like you have some genuine aversion to his affection.
“Doing what?” you murmur, all innocent.
Eddie swings his legs off the side of the mattress, socked feet melting into the carpet. His parted thighs are enough of an invitation as you settle intently between them. 
“That thing with your neck,” he answers when he’s fully upright. “The uh…” He replicates it for you, drops his cheek to his shoulder and brings it back up again. He doubts he looks nearly as cute as you do doing it.
You get so self-aware that your stomach starts to ache. “I don’t know,” you answer through the frog in your throat. “I do that sometimes, I guess— When I get nervous. I can’t really help it.”
“Nervous?” Eddie echoes, face twisted with sudden anguish. His hands reach for your wringing ones. He musters a shaking smile up at you. “Babe— Why are you nervous?”
You dig your bare feet into the carpet, shifting your weight and ducking your gaze like a nervous child. “‘Cause I haven’t slept over before. And I don’t really know what to… do. Like, what if I snore really loud? Or drool a lot? What if I accidentally punch you in my sleep or something?”
Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh in the face of your genuine worries, but it spills out before he can stop it. It’s so like you to stress yourself sick over something that’s about as likely to happen as getting struck by lightning.
“I’d probably like you more, honestly,” he answers, giving your clammy hands a gentle squeeze. His nose scrunches until the edges of his eyes crinkle. “You’re too perfect. You need something to humble you.”
“Don’t be nice to me, I’m being serious.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I can sleep on the couch. Or on the floor or something—”
“It’s your house, Eds.”
“Well, I’m not making you sleep on the couch, and especially not on the floor. Even if I was that big of an asshole, I think Uncle Wayne would kill me.” He grows suddenly serious a second later. Still smiling, but with something more earnest in his eyes. “But… I do think we’d be more comfortable, you know, in a bed. Together.”
He’s right, but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it. Not because you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as him, but because you’re too anxious to let yourself enjoy a good thing.
“I’m just bad at sleepovers, I think,” you confess in a tiny voice, like that fact isn’t utterly obvious now. “Like, one time, I was at a friend’s house in middle school, and I used a poster as a blanket ‘cause I was too scared to ask for a real one.”
Eddie’s smile widens. The rose petal expression blooms so large it makes his cheeks hurt. 
“Of course, you did,” the boy says with a shake of his head, frizzy curls swaying around the outsides of his jaw. “You’re so damn cute, you know that?”
You make a vague, grumbly noise of disdain right before Eddie wraps you in his arms. He pulls you softly down until you’re sitting on his jean-clad thighs, then buries his face into your shoulder. You smell like the soap you showered with and the burgers you ate and the perfume you put on just for him.
Eddie presses his lips there, to your collarbone, where the neckline of your shirt has dipped slightly down. He lingers there for a moment, then pulls away with a soft smack.
“I promise to make this the best damn sleepover you’ve ever had in your life,” he promises, muffled from where his nose is smushed into your neck.
“Yeah?” you mumble into the curls tickling your chin.
He nods, still pressed against you. “And I promise to tuck you in before bed so you don’t have to go using my posters as blankets, either.”
You push him away with a half-hearted hand. His boyish laughter paints the tiny bedroom golden. He pulls you back a second later, and you melt into him without thinking twice.
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merakidoll · 7 months
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toji was a women magnet. he knew it, and every single women that tried getting into his pants knew as well. but none of them really caught his eye, made his cock so painfully hard that it hurt at first glance. nobody but her. “precious, precious cargo” he whispered to himself taking a whiff of the women pussy that was covered by light pink, cherry patterned underwear. it was the first time since his wife died that he craved to be face deep in pussy, but in some odd - sick way, he knew yours would be nothing like he has had before.
“t-tojjj” the first grade teacher bucked her hips needing something to ease the pulsation that only grew. the guilt of doing something so sinister in her classroom while her kids were away at lunch was no longer there - along with the guilt of doing it with one of her students father.
toji licked her slit through the thin fabric a small bit of her juices falling into his mouth making him moan into the heat. he kissed her through the see through panties mumbling incoherent things to himself. “nasty girl, mmm my nasty girl” he loved how her nails were ranking through his hair, how her hips were hunching his face like a dog in heat, desperately trying to come with stray tears falling from her beautiful eyes.
toji watched the scene intensely feeling the movements of his cock in the sweatpants. it felt like no time before the school bell rung and the teacher came all in her underwear, a silent moan never falling from her lips that if you could hear it, it would’ve been loud. watching as the fabric of her underwear quickly dampened, toji’s cum sprayed all in his underwear, with a subtle “fuck”.
when the two had finally calmed down and got themselves together the room door busted open with loud kids who all had something to tell her — but the loudest one was the little girl who screamed daddy and ran to her father.
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bruisedboys · 4 months
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I don't know if this would be something you're interested in but I'd really like to see a protective!finnick. Doesn't have to be related to the games, like reader doesn't need to be a tribute or a rebel but she can be! Up to you, but it'd be interesting to see that side of him
thank you for your request lovely! I challenged myself to write something actually in universe for once, so I hope you enjoy it! (set in catching fire)
finnick odair x fem!tribute!reader cw for reader fainting from the heat
“Be careful.”
Finnick’s big hand on your back, his torso not far behind. He points to a thick tree root in your path. You step over it easily, exasperated. This is maybe the fourth time in the past ten minutes he’s said those same two words.
“I am,” you say simply. You are. If not for your sake then for Finnick’s. If you were to get so much as a cut on your leg he’d lose his mind. “S’hard when you’re standing so close, though.”
Finnick makes a face at you over your shoulder. “Sorry. You’re precious cargo, y’know?”
Your face warms, which is not ideal. You’re already well on your way to becoming a human furnace — the jungle you’re surrounded by is sticky and overly warm. You’re definitely overheating though you won’t tell Finnick that, he’ll only get worse. The water back at the beach is sure to cool you down — you’ll hop in as soon as you get back.
“You’re hopeless,” you tell Finnick in the meantime.
Finnick grins. “For you, yeah.”
You roll your eyes and march on ahead. Slowly the jungle gets thinner and thinner until you’re emerging onto the beach and your makeshift camp. The sun beats down on the landscape, glinting off the ripples in the water and rolling off the white sand in waves. You’re struck suddenly by how agonisingly hot you feel. It was sickeningly warm in the jungle but this is somehow much worse, the heat like a knife, sharp, cruel, and enough to make you dizzy.
“Ah, the lovebirds are back,” Johanna drawls when she spots you and Finnick emerging from the deep green trees. “What took you so long?”
Finnick shrugs. “Oh, you know. Sight-seeing. Did you— hey, what’s wrong?”
You’ve grabbed a tree for support as your vision swims suddenly. Your head pounds, as if your brain is trying to punch it’s way out of your skull. The dizziness you’d felt as soon as you stepped into the sun builds until you’re swaying on your feet.
You try desperately to keep your eyes open but the sun glares at you until you’re forced to squeeze them shut. “I don’t feel very well. I think I’m…”
It’s all you get out before you collapse in half like a rag doll. Finnick shouts your name and surges forward to grab you. He slides an arm under your back while the other grabs at your waist, tight as a vice.
“What the hell?” Johanna says loudly, standing up fast. “Is she okay?”
“Get me some water, please,” Finnick says, strained. You’re clearly not okay. His heart pounds in his throat and threatens to choke him. Johanna runs off and Finnick pulls you into the shade of the trees, carefully lowering you into the sand on your back.
He kneels next to you, panic rising like bile in his throat. Your eyes are closed, your head heavy in his hands.
“Y/N,” he says, an edge of panic to his voice. Please wake up, he thinks. “Y/N, honey.“
You’re completely unresponsive. Thinking the worst, Finnick presses his fingers to your throat. Thankfully, he feels a steady pulse, though it doesn’t do much to calm his spiking worry, not when you’re still unconscious.
“Can you hear me?” He tries gently tapping your cheek but to no avail. He curses. “Johanna!” He yells out, past being polite. “Water, now.”
“It’s coming!” Johanna yells back from the shoreline, clearly as agitated as he is.
Finnick grits his teeth and takes your face in his hands, trying his best to be gentle when he’s so panic stricken. “Hey. Baby, come on. Wake up.”
When you don’t respond, he carefully lowers your head and swiftly slides his hands to your shoulders. He’s careful but firm as he shakes you. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t ever want to be rough with you, but he’s glad he’s done it because it works. Just as Johanna arrives with a seashell full of water, Peeta and Katniss hot on her heels, your breath catches. Then your eyelids flutter, and then your lips part.
“Finnick?”
Finnick releases a shuddering breath, his heartbeat a pounding drum in his ears. The relief in hearing your voice is akin to a spear being pulled out of his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, hey, I’ve got you. You can hear me, right?”
“I can hear you,” you say. You try to turn your head, searching for him even in your disoriented state, but Finnick holds you in place.
“Don’t move, sweet thing,” he tells you. Unable to look away from you until he knows you’re absolutely alright, Finnick puts his hand out for the water wordlessly. Johanna hands it to him quick as a flash. “Can you open your eyes?”
You can, though it takes you a little while, blinking sluggishly in the harsh light. Finnick’s quick to shade your face with one hand. Your eyes appear, glazed but beautiful as always.
“Good girl,” Finnick tells you, hand on your cheek. He’s still buzzing — the heat of the sudden onslaught of panic hasn’t dissipated just yet. He carefully strokes your hair away from your sweaty neck with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna cool you down, okay? Can I unzip you?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
Finnick unzips your suit halfway down your chest, taking care to angle his torso so the others don’t see anything they don’t have to. Slowly, he tips the water over your hot skin. It slides over the slopes of your shoulders and creeps down into your suit. It must feel good because you shudder and let out a small breath.
Finnick thumbs your collarbone, feeling overwhelmed with relief. His hands don’t leave you, afraid you’ll disappear again if he lets go. The panic ebbs slowly as he watches you come back to life, your eyes becoming clearer by the second.
“She’s okay?” Peeta speaks up after a long moment of silence.
Finnick nods. “She’s okay,” he assures. “It was the heat, I think.” He finally lets himself look away from you, if only to ask Peeta, “Could you get us some more water?”
“Yeah, of course.”
The other three all trail off, leaving you and Finnick on your own. You try to sit up as they leave but Finnick presses his hand to your chest, palm flat on your warm skin.
“Don’t,” he says. “You’ve gotta lay flat, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, looking bashful. “Sorry,” you say softly.
“Don’t be sorry. No more fainting though, okay?” He rubs your shoulder. “I know I’m really handsome, but you don’t have to be so drastic about it.”
You groan but it quickly morphs into a laugh. Finnick kisses your forehead and then holds your hand until Peeta returns with the water.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
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