#or like those thing from where the wild things are

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the ask here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings:

The first time you ever saw Simon Riley perched atop his black motorcycle, in that moment some innate part of your brain was awakened and you were never the same. There was just something so incredibly erotic about the way those thick thighs straddled over the sides, the way his arms looked with their muscles bulging, straining his black short sleeved t-shirt wrapped around them as he leaned forward to reach the handlebars. Of course his helmet with the blacked out visor didn’t hurt either, not when paired with his sleeve of tattoos. He was a vision even more than usual and you were suddenly hooked. 

Then he took you for a ride along the open highway where he could really show you the power his bike had and that solidified your need to be involved in his hobby. Adrenaline, that was and still is Simon’s favorite part of being on the open road, his bike vibrating underneath him as the wind rushed past his body, and now that you had that first taste of it all, it was yours too. 

Whatever you needed to do to keep getting to look at him like that, to keep feeling that rush, you were more than willing to do it. 

Whenever he was on leave you two found yourselves on his bike, roaming the city on long night rides just to feel the wind on your skin and the rush of speed under your bodies. That was until he made an off-handed joke one day about getting you your own bike so that you could drive alongside him and then suddenly you were expressing how much you actually had been thinking about it. Sharing his hobby with someone, especially you, was something he has always wanted. To think you could experience the same thrills had him rushing to take you bike shopping the very next day so he could start teaching you.

You picked it all up relatively fast and before you knew it you had your license and regular drives have now become a part of your routine whenever your military man is in. Getting on the highway, opening the bike up as you go faster and faster, weaving through traffic with Simon always right by your side, there is something exhilarating about it all. And now you had the best view of that gorgeous specimen of a man.

Being able to see you on your own bike makes Simon have a taste of his own medicine because fuck did you look a goddamn beauty. Is this how you feel looking at him? The way it makes your back arch, full juicy arse just calling his name, has him salivating whenever he gets to see it. And he can’t help what it causes him to do; it’s not his fault when you look the way you do. The first time he ever pulled his little stunt, a ritual of sorts that he has to engage in every time you’re out driving together, you had a hard time focusing on the road after.

Bringing his bike close beside yours, he reaches out and runs his hand over the curve of your ass, making sure that he does it long enough that the other motorists behind you both can see him claim his hot biker vixen as his. You belong to him and he wants everyone that can see to know it.

And fuck does it drive him wild and have you reeling every time.

This goes on for quite a while, and all the times he’s touched you while riding have conjured up a new fantasy of yours and you finally decide you have to do something about it. Lately you’ve been thinking: what type of partner would you be if you didn’t return the favor? Simon deserves to be just as flustered too, right? It’s not because you need him to fuck you on his bike, nope, not all. 

Is it strange? Maybe. Will he go for it? You aren’t entirely sure, but one thing you do know is that you at least have to try. And if it works out, you know he’ll enjoy it too. On one of the last few nights of his leave, you decide that you’ve got nothing to lose and put your plan into motion.

“You know, it’s been so long since you took me on a ride with you,” you put your case to him tonight. “Like we used to. Me on the back of your bike, wrapped around you tight, you speeding through the lanes with the wind rushing past us. Remember that? I used to get so excited to see you just so you’d take me out with you.”

Those hazel eyes stare back at you curiously; of course he remembers. Christ, how could he ever fucking forget? Still, it’s intriguing to him why you would be bringing this up now. “What’s got ya all nostalgic sweetheart, hmm?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow. “Ya don’t like ridin’ beside me?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Just thought it’d be nice to be close to you again is all, since you’ll be leaving soon,” you say as you bite your lip with a subtle coyness while you stare back at him with those tempting doe eyes that make him melt.

How can he say no to that? To his girl wanting to be near him? Absolutely fucking never.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he responds as he gets up while pointing towards the bedroom, “well, go get dressed then. Can’t say no to ya when ya look at me like that.”

Simon is already sitting on the bike out front ready to go when you emerge from the front door in a short skirt, tight tank top, and leather boots and once again he is reminded just how lucky he is to be with you. This just keeps getting better and better for the ol boy. 

Climbing on the back and securing yourself around him, helmets on and visors down, Simon takes off into the night. He can feel the pressure from your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, pressing into his abs as you hold on, the warmth of your chest against his back, your thighs saddled up against his, and he wonders why you both don’t do this more often. 

The lights of the city sparkle around you, cutting through the evening like stars to illuminate your way as Simon drifts through the streets, making his way to the highway like he always does. Your heart is beginning to beat faster as you wait for the opportune moment to implement your plan and you silently hope that it works. 

On the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, Simon detects the first signs of something happening behind him. The movement is subtle at first and he almost misses that both hands aren’t pinned against his stomach anymore until he detects the warmth from your palm as it comes to rest on top of his thigh. He looks down through the visor of his helmet to where your hand lays as he wonders curiously to himself about the intentions of your actions.

Just what the hell is she up to? he thinks to himself as he turns his attention back onto the darkened road studded with streetlights.

The answer is quickly approaching as he feels your hand on the move again, now inching towards the middle of his broad thighs, moving and stopping, moving and stopping, to the crotch of his jeans and suddenly he understands just as you make first contact with the mass contained inside. 

A shiver runs up Simon’s spine and you can feel his back shudder against your chest as you start to rub over the swell, your touches heavy and full of purpose. Over and over again your palm makes purchase with his crotch and you can feel the muscles in his back tense. A part of him wants to pull your hand off so that can refocus, but it feels too damn good to get you to quit. Fuck, the pressure from your hand and the vibration from the bike has him so hard he can barely see straight. 

He needs to find some place to stop and fast; if he’s going to come in something it is not going to be his pants, it’s going to be you. 

Up ahead he sees an exit fast approaching and he quickly transfers over to the lane and takes it, not having a plan, but hopeful that he will be able to find something satisfactory enough. Brown eyes dart from one side of the street to the other frantically searching for something, anything so that he can pull off. The sign for a large parking garage is illuminated just up ahead; it’ll have to do. He won’t be able to focus for much longer; the pressure of your hand rubbing against his cock mixed with the vibrations from the bike leaves him gnawing at the bit with a need that he desperately has to satisfy. It wouldn’t be safe to keep going, not with the way his limbs are starting to tingle.

Simon drives through the first couple of levels and is glad to see it relatively empty save for a few straggling cars spaced far apart. Perfect, that means no one will be around to disturb him until he has had his way with you. He continues on a couple of levels that are completely empty as he puts you both more in the middle of the structure just to be sure you will be all alone until finally he drives to the back of the garage and pulls into the shadow, parking the bike and shutting it off. 

“Hop off,” he says and you immediately do as you're told, taking off your helmet and straightening your skirt as you make it to your feet.

You stand there close to his thigh as he removes his helmet and sets it on the ground on the other side of the bike, running his fingers through his short hair to fluff it up from being crushed underneath. As he sits back up his tattooed arm quickly reaches out behind your head where he grabs your hair into a ponytail in his fist, keeping your head locked while his opposite hand palms around your waist as he leans in with a smirk across his lips and a glimmer in those coffee-colored eyes. 

“Whatcha think you’re doin’, sweetheart? Playin’ games, hmm?” he asks as he stares back into your face.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, your tone playful and coy. You know damn well what you are doing and he isn’t dumb enough to think you don’t.

He glares back at you skeptically. “Right.”

“What?” you dismiss him. “I thought you didn’t mind a bit of touching when we ride? Always grabbing me; thought you’d enjoy a bit of fun.” 

There it is; this is payback for all the times he’s made his move while you were out cruising together. And fuck, has it worked to perfection.

Simon rips his hand from your waist and wraps it around your wrist so that he can pull your hand forward and place it right up against the stiffening peak straining against the zipper of his form fitting jeans.

“So this is whatcha fuckin’ wanted, yeah?” he asks, breathiness in his gruff tone as your hand makes contact with the rigid bulge. “Gettin’ me so fuckin’ hard I can’t even be bothered ta wait till we get back home ta fuck ya?” 

Can’t wait? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? God, you hope so. “What do you mean?” you ask, faking your ignorance as you rub your palm over the swell while maintaining eye contact. “We aren’t going home?”

A deep hum echoes through the atmosphere as he bites his bottom lip; you’ve started something that can’t be stopped now and the way your hand continues to stimulate him, he doesn’t think you want it to anyway. “No,” he says with a shake of his head, “ya wanted to start all this on my bike, that’s fine. Guess I deserve it. But now…I’m gonna make damn sure I finish ya on it.”

As you stand there silently waiting to see what he does next, Simon shifts back in the seat and helps you climb back onto the bike, but facing him so that he can lay you over the fuel tank. He plants his feet firmly onto the ground to keep the setup steady and pulls your body down, those rough hands pushing your skirt up off your hips to your waist as he forces your legs open wider so he can get himself between them. 

Thank God you’ve worn something easy to get into. Or was that your plan all along? Doesn’t really matter much now; he’s in.

Simon looks down and his eyes catch sight of a dark spot in the crotch of your panties. He presses his hand up against the mound of your cunt and the pressure makes you twitch, your back arching up off the tank as he feels what he had just suspected: you’re a little damp.

“Seems someone’s already stirred up,” he comments as his hand releases the pressure only to press in tight all over again in a pattern that matches his increasing heart rate. “Ya like it, don’t ya baby? The way tha bike vibrates ‘tween your legs? Like the way it hums against ya ‘till your clit is swollen?”

Simon’s hard-on throbs harshly against the zipper of his pants and into your naked thigh, tenting the fabric while he grinds it into the muscle as you wrap your legs around his hips; you have to hold on as you can’t stop the way your body jerks the longer his touch prods against those sensitive lips. Just the pressure alone after the drive is enough to make you whimper inside your closed mouth.

“Have ya been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ like this? Me fuckin’ ya raw while you’re on this thing?”

Releasing his hand, he walks those long fingers over the top of your clothed pussy to the waistband of your panties so that he can slip them inside and back down to the moist slit waiting eagerly for their touch and there it is, the unmistakable sound of his breath hitching as his hand makes contact. God, you always feel so fucking good. 

He uses his two middle fingers to part the lips of your slit and run them along the length to gather all the wetness he can on his digits so that once he finds your entrance he can easily slip up inside while the tip of his thumb nestles against your clit. You’re very warm, nice and hot and soft against his fingertips and a pleasurable hum he gives in response to the feeling.

“Ya know, I know why ya started ridin’ with me,” he says as you squirm. “I could see it in your eyes the second I pulled in to pick ya up that first time: ya like the way I look on my bike. Don’t ya?”

Your silence is met with a heavy jab with the pad of his thumb to that sensitive little button, holding it down until you are forced to answer as he thrusts his fingers inside you up to the knuckle. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping tight around the digits as you suck him in. 

“Yes,” you say in a whine and buck as his stocky fingers give you a nice starting stretch. “You 

look so f-fucking hot on this thing that sometimes I d-don’t know what to do with myself. That’s w-why I n-need…”

“What do ya need, sweetheart?” he groans as he curls his rough fingers up against your G-spot as his thumb begins to stroke concise circles upon your clit. “Use your words.”

You swallow hard while breathing heavily out of your nose as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly crying out in ecstasy at that first contact he makes. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds as he pins his thumb down hard again. “Let me fuckin’ hear ya. Ain’t no one here ‘cept us.”

A desperate moan escapes your lips and echoes through the empty space as you let it all out. “I need you to f-fuck me on y-your b-bike,” you say as you vibrate under his skilled touch. “B-been daydreaming about it for a while. Didn’t know if you’d want to, but I’m desperate.”

Using a flick of his wrist, he begins to snap his fingers up into you faster and faster, those fingers vigorously working your cunt until your juices are starting to dribble down to collect on his palm and the sound of wet slaps reverberate off the concrete. 

“All ya had ta fuckin’ do was ask,” he says. “Ya know I’d do anythin’ for ya, luv; my pretty girl always gets what she wants.”

You look so beautiful sprawled over his bike like this, disheveled skirt shoved up to your ribs, his hand plunged into the front of your panties so that they are stretched tight around your hips ready to rip, back arching as he again strikes right at the exact point of pleasure, tiny beads of sweat sparkling over the exposed parts of your flesh as you burn for him in the warm night air. It’s an image he’s gonna have committed to memory; every time he rides now he will remember the gorgeous mess he made of you.

If he thought he liked his bike before, it is nothing compared to how he will feel after fucking you on it.

Minute after minute each stroke draws you near that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off. Your walls are fluttering around his fingers as they swell and become engorged the closer you get. Simon knows that it won’t be long now and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. But not like this, oh no.

He has still been chomping at the bit to relieve the pressure throbbing between his legs and now that he is sure you are ready for it, he isn’t going to waste time. You’re still in public after all, he doesn’t need this to end before you’ve both gotten off. Amidst your whimpered protests to keep going, that you are almost there, he pulls his fingers out of you with a squelch, your lubrication dripping along his fingers and glistening in the harsh lighting inside the garage. 

You lean your head up as Simon pulls his fingers apart to watch the sticky fluid string between them before he brings them to his mouth and rams them into his lips to lick them clean, taking care of the mess he’s created from his touch. Just a taste to sait him, as if his face isn’t going to be plastered between those thighs later as he replays the memory of what happened here.

The sight of him sucking the lubrication off his fingers has you gasping for air. How can someone look so perfect doing something so filthy? You need him, bad. “Please,” you beg with a needy whine in your voice, “I want you inside me.”

Those words are like striking a match near a gas leak; suddenly he is scrambling to move as fast as possible.  Feverish hands are clawing at clothing at breakneck speeds as his flesh begs to connect with yours and complete this union. “Ya can shoot me dead if I ever say no to that,” he growls as he moves. 

Time is of the essence and so he quickly rips the soaked crotch of your panties to the side, securing them against your thigh and out of his way as his free hand ruthlessly yanks at the button on his pants to get it undone before he wrenches down the zipper and releases his cock that is throbbing and aching with his rapid heartbeat. 

“Gotta make this quick, yeah?” he groans as the caress from his hand over the tip is almost too sensitive to handle. He’s falling fast. “Don’t want no one seein’ ya like this ‘cept me.”

Leaning down, he places a brief, heated kiss with his warm lips to the exposed skin near your belly button before he has you sitting up so that he can get at those lips he yearns to feel against him as he enters you. The threads of your panties are beginning to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way so he can move his hips in as he aligns the head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole. 

Eyes closed and acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, he mutters a rushed “Breathe” into your open mouth as a warning while his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. The tip prods the opening before it pushes through and slides up inside, the rest following behind in one steady, fluid motion until he reaches the base and there is no more to shove inside you.

Simon shudders at the overwhelming euphoria hitting him all at once and now he’s burning from the inside out, his bulky chest taut with each heavy breath that he releases between kisses as the feeling of you wrapped tightly around his phallus drowns out everything else that surrounds him. 

You throw your head back, breaking the kiss to cry out as you are filled to the brim, being stretched to capacity with all he has to give. His hand grabs at the back of your head so that his lips can shoot back to yours as a tether to help you calm until your body can be allowed a little time to adjust; he’s not exactly small by any means of the word. 

It’s a few seconds before he releases your mouth as he starts to thrust, trying to go slow at first even though he is eager for more. Hips rolling at a steady pace now he pulls back to watch himself pump in and out of you. “Look,” he says in a breathless growl as the hand on the back of your head directs your eyeline down in between your bodies. “This what ya been fuckin’ fantasizin’ ‘bout? I think it looks even prettier on my bike.”

The way his swollen, veiny cock disappears as it slides up into you is mesmerizing. You can feel it but still seeing it has you questioning…where does it all fit? 

He keeps you close as he picks up the pace until the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space. Panting into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon puts more into his thrusts so that even the bike itself begins to rock with you from the force. The longer he goes the more feral he gets, relinquishing any hold he had on his sanity for as long as he gets to have his body stay fitting so nicely into your cunt.

It’s building, the warmth in the pit of your stomach is gathering steadily as the epinephrine releases all those euphoric chemicals into your bloodstream. The risky nature of your endeavor, the stimulation he’s already produced with his fingers, the fulfilling of your fantasy, it all works together to fuel your passion and his strong thrusts have you ready to spill over the edge at any second.

Simon keeps his pace even as he is now struggling to keep it together. The excitement has gotten to him too so that if he lets himself lose control he is going to come and he can’t have that, not until you have. With each passing second, each pound of that deadly appendage inside you gets more and more desperate, until he finally hears those sweet, sweet words that make his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you beg, your voice cracking with desperation as you try to keep your volume at a reasonable level while he slams into you again. “So c-close…”

“Come for me, baby, that’s it,” he coaxes desperately through gritted teeth as he strains to hold on a little longer. Just a little bit more and you’ll finish and he can let go.  

That’s when an idea is thrust into his brain and he knows what he needs to do to bring this full fucking circle for the both of you; complete the fantasy and give you even more to dream about for later. Simon moves over top of you to force you back until you find yourself against the fuel tank again.

Reaching above your head, he cranks the key and restarts the engine. The motorcycle roars to life, filling the garage with its sound, and begins to vibrate until it is pulsating through his body as he thrusts into you harder and harder. It’s like having your own living dildo that only intensifies the stimulation the longer he plunges into your dripping hole; a few more seconds of this and you will be coming on his cock.

And then he revvs the engine…  

The stimulation is too much and suddenly you are forcibly thrown over that precipice as you come with such force, like a hot flash of white light, that your thighs clamp down around his hips as your head falls back. You cry out in choking gasps as your orgasm tears through you; so strong that you are shaking. Your walls are fluttering sporadically around his cock as your hips buck against him unrelentingly and he can’t hold back any longer. 

“Where do ya want me?” he pleads as his fingertips claw at your hips, stabbing harshly into the muscle as he holds on for you to answer; he is about to blow.

“In me, in me,” you whine as you clamp your legs down hard to keep him in. What else were you on birth control for other than this? 

He jerks violently as your pussy continues to flutter around him, making his limbs numb from the pleasure, and with a loud groan that is akin to the bellow of a wild beast, the pressure building at the base of his spine finally reaching its peak and he falls over the edge as he lets it go. His hips never stop, slamming into you as the thick, warm fluid coats the inside of your pussy.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv,” he repeats as he shuts off the engine while he milks himself dry, his thrusts slowing down after a few seconds until they stop all together and he stays with his cock still buried inside you to let your body finish off the rest.

An unknown amount of time passes as your unsteady breathing slowly returns to a more tolerable rhythm, all the while Simon just sits there admiring the products of his labor: the beautiful flush in your cheeks and the contented, glazed look in your eyes, until he can find his voice again once his heartbeat has settled.

“Ya know, I’ve gotten plenty a compliments about my bike, but I gotta say that you’re the prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever rode, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls you in by the back of your head to press another breathless kiss onto your lips.

It is torture having to pull out of you, but even he isn’t delusional enough anymore to think that you can just stay like this for much longer. You’ll have to go soon and he needs to help you to redress as your legs are shaking uncontrollably. There’s no way in hell someone hasn’t heard the noise you’d been making.

“Was it everythin’ ya hoped?” he asks with a contented smile as he carefully moves you off the bike to your feet so that he can readjust your panties and pull down your skirt back around your hips.

You match his expression through the hazy afterglow of your ecstasy as he finishes you up and gets himself situated. A pretty sizable wet stain darkens the middle of his jeans, but he doesn’t pay it any mind; a risk of a good fucking time, that’s all.

“Better,” you murmur, satisfied.

Bringing his hand up he cups it against your cheek a second before he combs his fingers through your hair until he reaches the back of your head where he holds them wrapped in the strands. There’s one final thing he has to do before you get going and that is to give you one last kiss as praise for doing so well for him. With how strung out you still are from your orgasm, the gentleness of it makes your knees weak.

“Now how ‘bout we get back so we can go for round two?” he smirks against your mouth as he pulls away. “We can pretend I’m your bike and ya can show me how well I taught ya to ride.”

He gets you situated on the back of the bike, helmets and all, and restarts the engine. It bursts to life and that familiar vibration makes you squeeze your thighs together all over again. Simon smirks to himself before he turns to you with the visor still pulled up. He opens yours and leans in. “Keep your thighs tight. I want ya ta keep all that inside til we get back. I got plans to watch it leak out; I think I’ve earned it.”

With a mischievous chuckle, he closes your visor and his and takes off back out of the garage and into the cool night air. Good thing it isn’t far back to the house from here…if Simon doesn’t plan to take a detour first.

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[wutheringcaterpillar]

Hey! I’m wondering if you’d be willing to write a fic where Thomas is intending for John to marry Y/N to unite the Lees and the Shelbys like the show, but when he sees her the first time, he changes his mind on John marrying her. Instead he marries her

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, altered storyline, Tommy’s a sweety, p in v , oral if you blink, altered storyline, name calling, slight misogyny

thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

Tommy and John were sat awaiting your arrival, expecting you any moment now. John went on and on about how you were back in grade school, none of that really mattering to Tommy in the slightest.

The door opened, a brisk wind rolling in, pushing your hair in front of your face, your innocent vanilla scent flowing into the booth, as you flipped your hair behind your shoulder.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably at your beauty and grace. Your tone was soft, and a smile as bright as the sun, he couldn’t allow his brother to marry you, not with a face like that. 

Dropping your bag near the booth, Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off of you, helping you pick up your belongings from the floor. When you thanked the man for helping, you locked eyes with him, an immediate attraction being drawn to you from those crystal blue eyes.

“Thomas Shelby, pleasure to meet you.” When the handsome, intimidating man spoke, a thrill of attraction and desire rushed through your veins like a hurricane, time suddenly seemed to be irrelevant, along with the man you were arranged to marry.

“Y/N L/N. Likewise.” He motioned for you to sit, offering one of the many cigarettes he carried in his suit. When you declined, mentioning how you don’t smoke Tommy was stunned and intrigued. 

Everyone smoked in the garrison, it was hard to find a woman that didn’t. 

Taking your seat beside John, you straightened your back, folding your hands gracefully, fully prepared for any questions that may come your way.

John smirked, glancing down at the clear cleavage, your bra barelt holdimg in you breasts, he nodded toward Tommy to take a glance but he’d never disrespect a woman in that manner. He simply began conversation, asking where you lived, went to school, even personal things such as a family matters. He was a fair man, offering the same respect back, his voice brooding but in a good, hospitable way.

“John, do you mind if I take lovely Y/N here to the bar and make her a drink.” John hadn’t barely heard Tommy speak as he was joking around with Finn. Simply waving you both off, they chattered on, making you contemplate on whether or not John was fit to be a husband.

Tommy noticed the quizzical expression on across your face, intending to turn that frown into a smile. 

“What’s it going to be my dear? Whiskey? Gin? No, something is telling me you are a rum and coke girl?” His eyebrows raised, furrowing together in curiosity with the expectation and hopefulness that he was right. You couldn’t contain the rose petal blush paint your cheeks, glancing down in embarassment and moving a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

“How’d you know?”

“Just a lucky guess. Some say I’ve been gifted with the ability to read people. You seem like a smart girl Y/N, what type of hobbies do you indulge in, surely everyone has at least one.” Settling your purse down, you watched as he worked effortlessly behind the bar, topping off you drink with a whip cream which surprised you, most people found it odd, never having seen anyone do so yourself.

“Oh I- I enjoy reading, and occasionally shopping, a girl can never have too many clothes.” Tommy chuckled, staying behind the bar and lighting a cigarette, in that moment he knew you were too good for John. He wasn’t a saint himself but he wad far more mature and caring compared to his little, reckless brother.

“Well from my perception, you look very endearing, and well, stop me if this is too much but you’re quite beautiful Y/N, my brother’s very lucky to have you.” You waved him off, giggling like a school girl but Tommy never took his eyes off of you, entranced by your illuminating smile, and adorable laugh. There was a silence for a moment when you realized that perhaps Tommy felt the same way you were feeling. The goosebumps on your skin, the heart beat between your thighs, trying to evade the temptation, the profound want to be in bed with that ever charming smile, and angelic blue eyes, and those lips, those plump, pale lips that you wanted to kiss right there.

How was this powerful man already under your skin in such a small amount of time, was it the way he took interest in your life? The way his subtle gaze seemingly never broke away from you? Or perhaps his way of words, speaking with finesse and confidence, never once stuttering.

John approached the bar breaking the evident friction between you two. Your smile faded when he wrapped his arm behind your shoulders, pulling you in closely to his body heat.

“How’s everything love? He isn’t scaring you is he?” You shook your head no, staying quiet and biting your lip attempting to hold back from laughing when Tommy raised his eyebrows challengingly, playfully as if he wasn’t making you more comfortable than his brother. 

“Alright well, Arthur and I are going to go to a few pubs, see what kind of trouble we can get into tonight before the big night, if you know what I mean Tommy.” He winked at his older brother who didn’t seem the least bit impressed. Had he really just said that right in front of you? Reassuring you’d be alright here and be heading home in a little bit, Johnny bid you both goodbye, finishing off your rum and coke on his way out. How rude.

Scoffing, Tommy made you a new drink.

“You’ll have to allow me to apologize for my brother he can be quite- What’s the word I’m looking for? Oblivious sometimes.” A wave of relief washed over you when you were alone with Tommy once more, even the patrons in the bar clearing out for the night.

The palpable tension in the room magnetized when his charismatic eyes remained on you, the heat building beatween your legs, but you weren’t going to be the one to just come out and say it. Like Tommy always did best, he took the initiative, clearing the silence.

“Do you want to fuck me, Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows expectedly, his eyes searing into your soul as he handed you your drink, his fingers grazing over the softness of your fingers.

Stunned by his question, you couldn’t deny the electric current of desire running through your veins. Your eyes searched one another in question, the intensity of his dominance protruding you very being.

“I-I suppose I would but- I must inform you I’ve never really-“

“There’s no need to fret Y/N. I’ll go slow, I wish to spend as much time with you as I can, if you’ll have me that is.” Were you really about to do this? This wasn’t the girl that you were but Tommy was so enticing, and held a clear attraction toward you. You’ve heard many stories of Thomas Shelby, yet you found yourself following him out to the car as he held an umbrella over you, not looking back once.

As soon as the bedroom door closed his lips were on you as he hoisted you up onto the dresser. Hands caressing your bare thighs while your legs wrapped around his torso, melting into his fiery touch. He tasted of whiskey and mint, smelling of a subtle yet timberwood like scent. Your tongues collided with one another in disparity, your nightgown strap sliding down carelessly in the process. 

“You are an enchantress, my darling.” You unbuttoned his shirt, pushing yourself up as you walked one another still embraced toward the bed.

Unclasping your bra, Tommy relished in that sight of your bare, nude breasts. They were everything he had imagined, soft, rounded, delectable enough that he couldn’t waste another moment with having his lips on your enlarged nipples. Sucking the sensitive skin, lapping his tongue repeatedly as you moaned from the touch.

“Feels good Tommy. I need more. Please.” Begging already? You felt pathetic but didn’t care and neither did he when he pulled you onto the bed.

“Your wish is my command, love.” He layed you down gently on the white sheets, your hands skimming his muscular chest as he fumbled hastily to take his shirt off before diving back into your lips with a deep desire. 

His eyes never left you, drawn into the perfection of your skin, the way your nude body gleamed poetically beneath him in the dim light. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to-“

“Yes. Yes I’m sure I don’t want to waste another minute, I need you in me Tommy.” That was all the reassurance he needed to hear. When he undid his belt and tugged his pants down his member popped up, perky and ready. He was long, and rather wide, partially shaven, but that didn’t matter to you. Tommy could see the nervous worry in your eyes when they landed on his cock, but he needed you to understand he wasn’t one to rush such a big, personal decision.

Laying his hand caringly on your cheek, he looked into your eyes, demanding your attention so you knew he wasn’t kidding.

“I know it may seem a bit frightening but I assure you, we go at your pace. If you want me to stop tell me, okay?” You nodded, and then again when he motioned toward your white laced panties. When he slid them down your legs, you turned your head in embarrassment, always holding a tremendous insecurity for your appearance downstairs. Tommy on the other was blown away at the sight of your untouched pussy. 

“May I?” You nodded for him to continue, fully trusting him. His tongue glided between your wet lips, devouring your sweet rose, taking you by surprise and shedding the insecurity from your skin. “You have nothing to be ashamed of love. It’s perfect, and tastes exquisite.” You blushed as he continued to eat you, waiting for your nectar to slowly seep out, for him to start prepping you. When his finger entered you there was a slight discomfort, you’d never gone down there yourself but Tommy took his time and focused on your body language. After a few moments he entered a second finger, your tight walls surrounding his digits, coating them with your slick. There was a slight pleasurable feeling from feeling so full. He fingered you for a few minutes until he deemed you ready.

“Are you ready love?” You nodded that i was okay, and he kissed you once more reassuringly. He was slow upon entering, his cock aligned with your gaping, eager hole, the head resting there for a few seconds so you were aware of what was to come. He slowly pushed his head in, protruding your virgin walls, inch by inch. He stopped halfway in when you winced in pain, wanting to give you time to adjust.

“Focus on my voice. The pain will dissipate soon, tell me when you want me to go further.” After a few seconds, you relaxed your muscles, nodding for him to continue. When he was all the way in there was a sharp shot of pain from being stretched from his cock and your cherry now being popped.

Your eye fluttered close as he slowly pumped in and out of you tenderly, taking his time until you were comfortable for him to fasten his pace. The pain slowly subsiding as your inner walls calmed. 

“Faster.” When you spoke it was but a whisper, Tommy understood. His shaft fucked into you quickly, the head of his cock slamming into your cervix with each thrust.

“Fuck Tommy! More… Oh fuck.” Your boobs jiggled with each powerful thrust, but you needed to be closer somehow. Sitting up and you straddled his lap never breaking from the bonding of his cock.

Your hands grazed over the muscular tone of his back, wanting, needing to be closer to him. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips curling over the wamrth of your bare skin, tongue twirling as he kissed you with profound passion. You continued to ride his cock, hips rotating and grinding, until an unexplainable, euphoric feeling began to build in your pussy. 

Tommy knew what was coming and held you close to him, wanting you to know he was right there, riding your orgasm out with you. Holding you caringly and rubbing soothing circles into your back as you crumbled and came undone with one another. After a moment, you lifted your head in a fucked out melody, running your thumb down his bottom lip and staring into his sapphire eyes. In that moment Tommy didn’t know what came over him, but he knew what had to be said. He couldn’t let you go.

“Marry me.” 

“What?” You were stunned by his statement but stayed folded against him lazily, your knees to weak to move from out of his lap.

“What about John?”

“He’ll understand. He will, but who would I be as a man be to fuck you and let a pretty girl like you fall from my hands. I can be a good husband if you give me the chance.” As your breathing slowed down, Tommy’s seed flowed from your deflowered pussy, wetting his thigh making you laugh and apologize before giving him answer but it didn’t take you long to think.

“I will marry you, I just ask we let John down gently. I don’t want to be the cause of his pain.” At that moment the door flew open, Tommy was quick to pick the comforter up from the floor and shield your nude body. He was ready to start yelling until he recognized the man standing in the door to be his brother.

“What the fuck is going on here? That’s my fucking wife to be!” John went to rip the blanket from you in a furious rage but Tommy was faster, standing up and pushing his brother back out into the hallway, nothing but a sheet around his waist hiding his cock. John could be heard screaming obscenities, mostly pointed at you as Tommy pushed him into another room.

“She’s a fucking whore! A disgusting tramp who knows no fucking boundaries! And you! You fucked my girl Tommy! You can’t just steal my bride to be. How fucked is that! No- How fucked is it that the people closest to you are the ones who take the knife and twist in your fucking back!” Tommy pulled open a drawer, lighting a cigarette and remaining calm as John continued to yell at him.

“You can have the fucking cunt! Go ahead, see what I care!” 

“She wasn’t right for you Johnny. Not with a face like that. Don’t take it personal eh? You’ll marry someone else instead. Besides knowing you as well as I do, you’ll be on to the next one in no time won’t you Johnny boy?” John rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose and closing his fists in anger before he punched a hole in the drywall. Tommy merely stood by the window, not feeling the least bit sorry as he knew his brother and he knew him well. Within a week he’d be passed it, forgotten about you and the betrayal of your short lived relationship. The only thing on Tommy’s mind was returning to you, surely John’s words had upset you immensely.

~

When the big day finally arrived, it was like a scene out of the movies. The reception was held in the backyard, the aisle covered in pebbles, white rose flowered bushes running down the perimeter of the wooden benches, the sun setting poetically behind the silver laced altar. 

Friends and families gathered round, coming together for your day since Tommy may or may not have threatened some to be there for you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Now here you were seated with Ada while she was finishing up your makeup, and hair. 

“What do you suppose the boys are doing right now?” Ada chuckled, whimsically, looking at her work in the mirror, trying to lighten the nerves you were feeling, but that question alone seemed to make you more anxious.

“Getting a long I hope. I do feel sorry for John, I just hope he can forgive us. We didn’t mean to hurt him.” Ada remained friendly, never entering the crossfire of her brother unless absolutely necessary. She could only give you advice, and be there as not a friend but a sister should.

~

Tommy was suited in his formal attire, looking out all the people chatting near the garden when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” John entered the room, a delicate expression running over his face, showing he wasn’t here to cause any harm. Tommy nodded toward the desk, sitting in his seat and pouring his brother a glass of whiskey. 

“You probably need this more than me.” John chuckled sincerely, not knowing how to start this conversation. Tommy could tell he was uncomfortable, a look of guilt just barely visible in his eyes. Shaking his head, he joined his hands together, motioning toward the ring the bearer still had to come and retreive.

Upon opening the velvet box, John was in shock, the dazzling rock shimmering in the sunlight. The ring itself had to of been far more than John’s own personal cut from the company, which told him Tommy must have taken the time to close deals and make investments. In that moment he understood Tommy cared for you more than he ever did, he would have never spent that amount of money on you, or anyone for that matter. 

“She likes diamonds you know?” John shook his head indeed not knowing that small fact about you because he never took the time. He never had any interest or care to ask, to really get to know you. Closing the box, he frowned, reminiscing back to the fight just last week he had with you both. He was ashamed, and knew he could have handled it better.

“I came to apologize Tom. I acted immaturely and I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those terrible things. You guys look happy, she chose the right man.” Tommy chuckled, lighting a cigarette and tossing one to John.

“All is forgiven brother but I’m not the one that requires an apology. You can be a good man John, I believe that I do. But with the right woman.” Tommy left it at that, believing in his brother that he would speak with you before the wedding was to begin. John nodded understandingly, knowing Tommy was right, leaving no room for him to argue. All this hatred, anger, where were these emotions getting him? No where.

Glancing down at his watch, he bid Tommy goodbye, making his way to your dressing room. 

-

A knock at the door startled you as you were putting on your heels, worried it was Tommy you sent Ada to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s John.” Ada turned to face you for answer. When you nodded she opened the door and excused herself from the room.

“Wow.” John was impressed with the workings of Ada, you looked truly breath taking, nothing he’s ever seen before in a woman. Smiling sweetly, you motioned for him to sit.

He twiddled his thumbs, nervously searching for the right words, but he didn’t really know where to start, so he went with the first thought in his mind.

“I’m sorry. I was out of my fucking head speaking about you like that. My brother, he’s a good man, the better man. Besides we never really had a connection did we?” You shook your head no in agreement, thankful John came to apologize, but you also shared your feelings of how you and Tommy should have just sat down with him before anything happened. He accepted your apology, but noticed you were due outside in five minutes. Bidding you farewell, he wished you luck and told you, you’d make a great wife and Tommy is lucky to have you, he needed you.

Ada knocked on the door, informing you it was time. Taking a deep breath you met your father at the patio door, a mixture of happiness and excitement protruding your ever bone.

Family and friends stood up, your mother crying from how beautiful and elegant you appeared. When you reached the alter, a singular tear swam down Tommy’s cheek as he smiled widely when he removed your vail. You were stunning, breathtaking, everything he’s ever dreamed about. John stood by his side as a groomsmen, happy to finally see his older brother smile for once. As the vows were exchanged. The ring beamed with an exquisite beauty, your eyes brimming with tears when Tommy placed the expensive jewelry on your finger, claiming you as his wife. 

“Tommy it’s beautiful.” You were hoping and praying your makeup wasn’t running down your cheeks. As vows were exchanged, the man motioned that it was time to kiss the bride. Tommy rested his hands on your cheeks, time stopping when he placed his lips on yours as the man announced you to be Mrs. Tommy Shelby.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #ranaewrites #peaky blinders #requested

[zippidi-dooda]

Deuce better pray that mama Deuce doesn't get Yuu's number.

If she does then he'll constantly hear his mother asking about you, if he's been behaving nicely towards you, if you've been hanging out, if you've been taking those study lessons you planned, if he's given you that gift she thought you might like, things like that.

And you doing the same about his mom, telling him all about your daily chats, how much you miss her, and your sudden knowledge about his past self.

And holidays?

Don't get him started, even before he knows it, you're there waiting for him at home chatting with his mom.

He's shocked and embarrassed, understandably so, but you both brush it off like it was a normal situation.

Even if he tries to normalize things, by taking you up to your guest room to get you two away, he always ends up leaving for a second only to find that his mom had made her way up to chat with you.

He can't even stay in the same room when you two are together cause then you turn your conversations towards him, how cute he was as a baby, how much he's grown, what a sweetie he is, reminiscing embarrassing moments he could only hope you'd forget.

It'd get to the point where you'd both decline an invitation to go out for a walk with him in order to talke more.

He tried not to let it get to him.

To understand that the both of you had been missing some form of a parent/child relationship over the past few months. That you both needed some new company. That it was good his mom and friend were getting along.

But he couldn't help his delinquent side taking control when the both of you spent majority of the break enjoying each other's company, completely forgetting he was even around.

And you're shocked when he stands, slamming his fists on the table, cold glare in his eye as he shouts out his complaints of the growing issue.

It goes quiet for a while, the three of you simply eyeing each other until someone spoke.

And so you did.

You apologized for the shift in your relationship with the Spades, affirmed that you'd think more of the reality of the situation, and promised to be more considerate of the boy's feelings.

You ended it all with a smile, and a kiss to Deuce's cheek.

His angry demeanor melted away completely. His face burned brighter than Ace's hair and he stared blankly ahead of him.

You ruffled his hair gently and asked if there was something you could do now to start making up for the discomfort.

And his mom went wild.

She gushed over the two of you, effectively breaking Deuce from his trance and back to his embarrassed state while you were forced to join him for the first time.

He grumbled about his mother's enthusiasm for such small things.

But, he had to admit that this, his mother fawning over the two of you, was something he'd much rather like handle.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #twst deuce #twst dila #dila spade #deuce spade x reader

[andmineisyellow]

Since it's looking more and more like those spoilers might be true, here are my thoughts:

Of all of the changes they have made to Colin's character in the last three seasons, it's wild to hear people say that Colin potentially having a threesome is a step too far.

Once again, it demonstrates how a significant part of this fanbase will always put Penelope's feelings and autonomy before Colin's. Colin is not in a relationship with Penelope, and the only thing he owes her is a sincere apology for what he said about her. It's also perfectly normal for a 22-year-old to explore their sexuality.

I can understand concerns about how the scene might be framed. This is a show that is meant to prioritize the female gaze and putting in a scene where a man watches two women have sex doesn't really reflect that. That being said we don't have the context, and given how they handled Simon and Anthony in their seasons, it's unlikely that the scene will be super explicit.

Framing aside though, Colin being more adventurous in bed makes a lot of sense to me, especially given that he's been traveling and actively seeking new experiences.

It's not the choice I would have made for the character personally, as I would have liked him to contrast more with our previous male leads. But compared to some of the other choices the show has made with Colin, I feel pretty neutral about it. That might change when we have more context, but there are just so many other things I'm concerned about.

I'll leave you with this excerpt from Romancing Mister Bridgerton:

#bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #i need to stop looking at the polin reddit #colin bridgerton is demi #polin #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #bridgerton season 3

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY GARRUS VAKARIAN, updated version  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, adjust as necessary

i can't find any hard evidence.

good luck, [name]. maybe they'll listen to you.

i'm coming with you.

sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.

i just couldn't take it anymore.

maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.

if you're wrong, we'll pay for it. but if you're right, and we did nothing, i think we'd regret it a whole lot more.

i thought you were dead.

it sure is good to see a friendly face.

at least it's not hard to find criminals here. all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.

my feelings got in the way of my better judgement.

i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.

nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?

don't make me laugh, damn it.

some women find facial scars attractive.

i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.

when i got to the meeting point, no one was there.

kill you? no. but i don't mind slowing you down a little.

what do you want from me, [name]?

i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.

it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.

my instincts are what got me into this mess.

never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.

well, why the hell not? there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.

if we can figure out a way to make it work, then... yeah. definitely.

you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed-up galaxy.

you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.

i brought wine.

your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.

hopefully that's not offensive in human culture.

i want something to go right. just once.

think you can win this thing, [name]?

i'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns... and lots of them.

so... is this the part where we shake hands?

the scars are starting to fade. i remember they drove you wild.

i've been doing some more research on human customs.

glad to know my romantic skills made an impression.

let's not go there.

i can afford the good stuff.

what about you? i'm starting to see some wear and tear.

don't forget to come up for air. and not just because all these people need you. because i need you.

if you're suggesting i'm scared... game on.

still trying to make me blush, huh?

i'd be lying if i said i didn't hope it would inspire a certain... mood.

it seemed like you needed time to... figure us out.

the worst part about the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again.

not saying you don't know how to handle a gun. just saying some of us know how to make it dance.

i've actually seen you dance. no comment.

i know there are other things you're good at.

probably not a lot of air in here. an hour if we're lucky.

so tell me. think a girl would fall for that?

it gets even better when you try it in bed.

you don't lack for places to get lost.

did we break anything last night?

you'll find a way to win. and when this is over, i'll be waiting for you.

if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there... meet me at the bar. i'm buying.

forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you.

come back alive. it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.

we're in this 'til the end.

we didn’t kill these people. and we’re going to shut down the bastards who did.

looks like we’ve got a siege on our hand.

if anyone needs fresh clips or a bathroom break, now’s the time.

oh crap!

guess he didn’t like the food.

looks like we got the jump.

pretty extreme, but those were desperate times.

we won’t get a second chance.

that was me, sorry.

nothing like being stranded.

we’ll do more than that.

just the usual minor flesh wound.

what would these people have done if we hadn’t shown up?

i was there when you two had your thing, remember? just get a room and work it out.

stay angry. we’ll need it to get through this.

drinks will be on me.

one of my favorite places to fight!

i’m hard to kill. you should know that.

it’s gonna be bad all over.

for whatever it’s worth, i’m with you.

you’ve waited long enough for this day.

just wait ‘til this war is over.

you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.

maybe you’d like to go work for them instead?

how do i not have one of those?

surprise on our side for once. i like it.

brutal, but it makes a certain kind of sense.

#garrus vakarian #mass effect #mcflymemes #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

[dreadheadmuncher]

“👹LECLER!”

A/n : Keep in mind this just an imagine and a small post I decided to come up with.

Tag🔞: fluff, oral sex, head top, vanilla sex, edging.

Summary: Mel goes on a vacation trip with a close friend to Monaco and while the two attends the F1 racing event, she had a bit too much fun that same night.

Vroom…

Just a bunch of small weird looking cars zooming down the track with watchers getting hyped up, this screams out rich and expensive but who am I judge when this didn’t came out of my pocket. Harry managed to get us vip tickets that included sitting the lounge with champagnes and meals being served to us which was my favorite part but most of was for him to meet the drivers after the race but mainly because he has a friend that happens to be one of the drivers so he came out to support like the good pal he is plus who who I am to pass up a free way to ticket to Monaco, not this bitch.

I palmed my chest when the lounge area ran wild from all majority of Harry leaping out of his chair in pure joy as he applauses and hollered, dabbing the other that were also in the lounge area, from this I assume someone won from how lively the crowd gotten. I remained muted and applauded quietly with a small smile, I finish chug my champagne down and soon each driver who finishes the race all stood on the podium. Hmm, all of them was cute. One in a fully red suit with a Ferrari logo who I guessed came in first coming in second was a caramel skinned man with locs and a nose piercing- damn he fine. I didn’t care about the dude in the orange suit one but those two gentlemen’s caught my eyes.

“That’s Lewis, the friend who I came to support” Harry introduces pointing at the caramel skinned man, sounded so proud of his friend victory. I smiled and chugged the remaining last of champagne down my throat as I focused on the two good looking men, Harry lead us downstairs to the driver’s paddock where all of the man would be located after the race. A few was being questioned and so and so. Harry would stopped by every driver he sees congratulating them on their race then follow up on a 20 minute chit-chat talking about sports blah blah blah and there’s me who hardly knows anything about the race but a girl who’s being a good supportive friend of riding along since I was promised parties and yachts.

“Harry, sorry to bug you but when we-”

I was cut short when a male voice with an English accent calls out Harry name almost mentioning Harry happens to English himself. Fuck me. I sighed annoyingly but straighten my composure when his fine ass friend- Lewis! Yeah, that’s his name I think approached out his way with a wide smile.

“Ah mate, what a heck of race out there” Harry dabs him up doing some type of strange handshake- you know what, I’ll just mind my business. Not with this handsome brother being in my presence.

Lewis, I’ve heard that name somewhere back home but just couldn’t put my finger down it, I know someone back home who’s obsessed with this whole racing stuff and she was explaining to me about this whole thing but I just couldn’t bare another minute of her rambling her mouth however she didn’t lie when she said most of these drivers- especially that one are attractive. It was then when I realized I was gawking a bit too much when he darted his glare over at me with a side grin.

“Sorry hun, not doing autographs at the moment” Lewis says and I slightly gape my mouth open, I grimaced my face at the thought of me being desperate for a simple autograph from a man I hardly know.

“Excuse me?” I asked feeling a bit offended, I shot Harry a hard glare gesturing for him to get his boy before my mouth makes a scene and I’m pretty sure Harry seen that side of me before.

“U-Uhm Lewis, this was the friend I was telling you about who I brought along” Harry mentions, Lewis eyed me up and down with speck of attitude on his face as a light chuckle escapes from his mouth. I flicked my brows up with my arms crossed not believing what I seeing.

“So what, you too good to have manners now” I remarked with a scoff, Lewis furrows his brows at my statement as he steps closer attempting to look intimidating. He don’t know where I’m from for him to be pulling that kind of stunt, he’d get shot up real quick.

“Says the little lady that came down with a bitchy ass attitude… Harry, you should know better to bring someone-”

“Listen here you big melon forehead, I hardly know you unless you God himself or my momma to be saying shit about me so I suggest you tone that shit down or-” I spat

“My Goodness, what’s all of the ruckus about” A deep voice spoke interrupting my speech, all of the anger that was building in my muscles had suddenly disappeared when a man a lot taller than Harry and Mr Melon here approached us with a lingering smirk on his face. He wore a white button shirt with the Mercedes logo on it, his sleeve are rolled up allowing me to get a glimpse of his arm and I can’t forget how perfect that top hugs his muscles.

“Lewis, what are you still standing here for… you acting like you don’t have a press conference to go to”

Lewis grunts storming off while penetrating a deep glare at me as he walks off fully, a moment of pause before we all bursted out a tear laughter at just happened. He looks like a toddler that just threw tantrum from someone telling him no. Harry does his bickering before he politely introduced me to the man- hmm, let alone I’d let this man devour me on top of his desk.

“Hi, I’m Mel” I extended my hand with a smile, He takes my hand and slowly turns it around to lay a peck as he sets a concentrate glare at me.

“I’m Toto Wolff but you can just call me Toto, doll”

I lightly blushed at the nickname he already given me, he winks and smiles so widely causing a second heartbeat down there but how can I stay focus when he’s looking at me with hooded eyes, he may be pushing 50 or so but what they say- age ain’t none but a number.

“I hope to see you two at the party tonight” He says, taking his leave. I furrowed my brows and glared at Harry with confusion laced all over my expression. This trick didn’t mentioned anything about no damn party til now, that was the whole point as to why I even agreed to come here.

“Mel, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you” He smirks, walking backwards as his eyes locked in with mines feeling heat coursing through my body. He winks then proceeds to make his exit leaving the two of us alone, I sense the skeptical stare shooting my way from Harry. I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed ‘what’ as we both proceeds our exit out the premises with Harry giving me a lecture about interrupting him and flirting with the man telling me he was married as if I was the one who started it first.

•

Fast forward to later when I was in my hotel room preparing for the party, Harry booked a luxurious hotel room for the two of us which included a wide balcony view of the beach side with a nice jacuzzi - man if only I had someone here… wink wink. I couldn’t ask for better than the room service treating you like an absolute queen. I glared at myself at the mirror and the way how much this dress was hugging every crack and bone on my body showing my figure.

“Mel are you- holy smokes” Harry nearly choked on his words as he walked in, he took a moment to gaze on the dress I was wearing.

“Is this too much?” I asked, fiddling with my hands awaiting for his response. Harry approaches me with his eyes set on my dress but from the way he was muted, he was telling me otherwise “I knew it, I should change-”

“Mel, I’d have you out those clothes in hot seconds with the way you look right now, you gonna be pulling heads from left to right” He compliments, now he was starting stare a bit too much and he seem to notice that as well “Let’s go, the chauffeur here”

A chauffeur?! …. count me the fuck in. We both made our way out the elevator and a group of men who were passing couldn’t help but to turn their necks at us. Harry pulled me closer to his side with his hands stuck around my waist, ain’t never seen this side of him. A women dressed in all black from head to toe address us for Mr Wolf and immediately we got settled in, just a few couple of minutes, we had arrived already at the scene and the line was incredibly long.

“There’s no way I’m waiting in that long ass line” I grunted, he gestures me to wait and I watch him approach the bouncer as he said a few words to him then boom we was already in. I heard a couple of complaints but shit- as long we got a head start. The music was so amazingly loud, I could’ve feel it vibrating in my chest and you can hardly pass through from how crowded it was everywhere, it wasn’t until I released a heavy scoff followed by a eye roll when melon head came to dab up Harry. His whole expression died down as soon as he darts his eyes to me, seizing me up and down with a look of disgrace.

“I see you brought little miss fiesty” He remarks.

“Harry, control your little pest of yours” I spat, growing agitated at the sight of him and the longer he stays in my presence the more I just want to rip those damn locs out from his scalp. Harry noticed my expression and pulls me aside turning our back towards him, the melon head assured to Harry he was going to be located if he ever wants to find him.

“I’m really sorry about him, do you maybe want a drink?”

“You know what, go enjoy yourself with your friends, I’ll be okay” I said to him, my eyes never leaving the mysterious man who had a smirk on his face. At first Harry was uncertain whether or not it was a good idea to leave me by myself but I assure to him that things will be fine as long. He pecks my forehead and I watch him flew upstairs to his friend as a wide smile appeared on his face when melon head hands him a big bottle.

“My, you have such beauty on you” I winced, I followed the direction of the voice and just when my luck came when it appears to be that same man from the podium earlier and good lord he’s even breathtaking up close.

“Why did your boyfriend leave a gorgeous women like you all alone, He should know men tend to be a thirst for pretty women like you” I couldn’t help but notice how strangely attractive his accent sounded. I must admit, here in Monaco has incredibly good looking people here.

“Boyfriend… I don’t have a boyfriend but I appreciate the compliment” I chuckled with a smile suddenly feeling hot from the intense eye contact he has on me. He returns the smiles exposing a dimple

“So am I lucky enough to buy the beautiful women a drink? ” He playfully asks, smiling softly exposing his dimples. A fine looking man offering to buy me a drink- how can I let that opportunity slip out my hand. He whistles for the bartender attention then turns back around, I was quickly adjusting myself by pulling the hem of my of dress not realizing he had already fixed his gaze on me as he lingered them more on my dress.

“Do you have a name apart from being called beautiful?” He questions, grabbing the two drinks and handing it to me. The minute he stands next to me, I didn’t fail to notice how tall he was making our height difference prominent as he gaze down at me.

“Mel, what about you, handsome?” I asked softly, taking a sip of my drink.

“I go by the name of Charles… since I got the beautiful lady a drink and her name, would she at least come dance with me?” He asked, I averted my head towards the dance floor where everyone was throwing a type move with the music playing- the dj might be onto something with this playlist. I chugged my drink down in immediately and Charles quirked his brows up slightly taken back from the sight of this, I set the now empty cup down and tugged his hand as I led us both out to the center of the floor. His hands snatched my waist already flushing our bodies together which I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Big Poppa by The Notorious B.I.G starts playing.

A rage of adrenaline sparked in my bones the minute I heard that intro. I felt a slight push as he grips on my waist and instantly I start grinding my hips on him, his hands moves down to cup a handful of my ass and I almost let myself go from releasing a moan from how good it felt he was caressing it. I spun around and now my ass was directly on his crotch, with all of the alcohol coursing in my system, I let him dominate my body all night and here I am worrying if he knew how to dance or not but it seem to me he got a lil bit of spice in him from the way he was moving his hips into mines almost forgetting I can feel his boy getting a little too excited down here, in one swift motion, I was facing him and ooh- those eyes made me melt even more. He seem to love my rubbing on my ass from how much time his hands stood there.

His hands travels up feeling up every corner of my body not knowing he was starting a fire in me, his hands gently laced around my neck and slowly he leans in to crash his lips on mines tasting the sweet but bitter alcohol, I parted my lips inviting his tongue in as he starts to dominate the kiss with our heads moving in different directions. He don’t know it yet but he just started the engine in my aching core making me want him more. I come to my senses that we’re making out in a middle of a dance floor and I was aching him bad as my stomach was flipping like crazy.

“I think this will be better at my place” I draw little circles on his firm chest, he licks his swollen lips and agrees immediately with a side grin. I pulled his arm as we both tried to squeeze ourselves through the crowd, I had to make one final stop before I end up leaving this place this man.

“H-Harry!” I manage to call out and surprisingly Harry heard my voice as he ran over to my side despite Charles flushing his body against me which I wasn’t complaining. Harry eyes widened as he notice Charles hands placements, Harry glared at him suspiciously but it died down when he sees how comfortable and fine I am.

“Lecler, what a nice surprise” the two dabs each other but I was gaining worryingly not at Harry being drunk but for Charles who I think might make a fool out of himself around Charles. How many drinks did he had? My eyes glowered around the area but paused for a while when it landed on melon head who already was looking my way with a menacing glare obviously drunk too won’t a bottle of jack Daniel in his hand.

“Careful Leclerc, that one might bite” He makes a slick comment, sipping out of his bottle.

“You sound pathetic as hell, next” I shot back with an eye roll. He chuckles amusingly with a smirk on his face.

“I sound pathetic… that dress looks more pathetic maybe because it’s on you” He his voice spiked with frustration, might’ve hit a nerve in that spot, it was kinda funny if you really look at it that way.

“So does that big melon head of yours” I deadpanned and the fire explodes as he abruptly stood up tossing the bottle somewhere with a deep frown on his face and here I am being bold and big when I nearly forgot how tall he was but I take that back as soon as Charles stepped in between moving me behind him, his hand never leaving my waist and I swear I can feel my panties dampening from how hot that looks.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, mate” Charles warned in this deep voice I never knew sounded even more attractive.

“Lewis… hey pal let’s air this outside but not in here” Harry pulls his arm back, Lewis brows deepened as he forms a fist nearly piping a vein. I can radiate a very serious rage coming out of him from that hard glare he was shooting my way as Charles made sure he wouldn’t dare pull a stunt.

“Tell your girl to not tempt me because I tend to get reckless with my mouth, let this be the final warning and next time shit won’t sweet” He tone was light than before, I felt a small breeze brush on me when he stormed off and I sensed incredible rush of anger coming from him.

“I apologize for-”

“No worries, I’m quite used to his aggressiveness anyways” Charles brushed it off releasing a breathless laugh with Harry. Harry averts his gaze to me as his face was rubbing pink obviously from all the drinking he’s been doing, he was checking to see if I was alright like the overprotective brother he always acted.

“Don’t think just because you’re a driver doesn’t mean you get to harm her, I’m armed…” He harshly warned with his words being slurred, he can barely even obtain his balance. I do hope Lewis keeps on a watch for this man but he’s such a jerk and so uptight I can’t even say not word to this man without him mean mugging.

“Harry, you’re harassing the man already. I’ll be fine, just please ease up on the drinking and be careful” I begged, removing the bottle out of his hand but thankfully his other friend came to his side reassuring he’ll keep on a good eye on him. I graciously thanked him with a wide smile and rushed out the club with Charles trailing behind closely.

Once the room card inserted, the small pad flashes green allowing the door to flung open with him trailing behind me but he just couldn’t wait any waste any further to crash his soft lips onto mines. My legs levitated from the ground and immediately wrapped around him as I have no clue where he was taking us but I felt a soft cushion against my back leaving him on top. Our kiss deepened passionately with the intrusion of our tongues and boy do I feel my panties dampening everytime, when he moves to another spot, it sent electric shocks all over my body wanting him more.

He cups my right breast as starts sensually sucking and biting on certain parts my neck all with my eyes shuts feeling every satisfaction aching in my bone. I grew anticipated when he suddenly stopped but then i realized he was leaning over me when I opened my eyes to meet his bright blue doe eyes- he looks like a adorable kid excited to play in the field, his hair was fluffier from the tugging I’ve been doing, his face flushing pink which I want to reach over and squeeze his cheeks and his lips that were now swollen and red.

“You are absolutely gorgeous” He whispers as he pulls on my strap to remove the straps of my dress as the cold breeze brushes against my nipple. He darts his eyes down at my exposed breast, I pushed him aside as I stood on my feet and removed the remaining of the fabric off my body letting it pool around my feet. At the sight of my naked body in front of him, I sashay my hips towards him and threw my leg over sitting on top of him.

“Putain de merde”

“You can do whatever you want with me tonight, I’m all yours” I whispered while leaving wet kisses all over his ear as my hands began to travel- now hold the fuck up, I just realized this man still got clothes on him.

“Baby, why is your clothes still on” I abruptly got up with my arms folded over my exposed chest, he stammers and looks down to realize the same thing. He eagerly removed every layer off his body except his boxers where a visible tent was notice, his face flushed red embarrassed that he was rock solid hard as he quickly covered it. He is so adorable. A light grin creeps up my face, the little jumper sprung out of his briefs, it was a pretty pink color with precum decorating the jumper not mention he was large. My mouth was itching swallow him.

“It hurts… real bad” He whimpers, a jumpstart to quake the ground down there. My hands can hardly wrap around his jumper which requires the use of two hands. His eyes were shut closed which means he have blue balls… poor baby. I started showering it with kisses all while stroking slowly and now his face expression became my favorite part, playing with his jumper and watching as he gets excited really quirked my heart fast. I decided to stop playing tricks with him and took him whole in my head as I bopped my head continuously twirling my tongue in the process. His moans were music to my ears that I hit replay all day, it’s so soft yet sweet which urged me to touch on myself as I fasten up the pace.

“M-Mel… Putain d'enfer” He chokes out, his lips parted open as his head leaned all the way back as he sings in my ears with his alluring moans and just as I expect he exploded in my mouth. Now that it bothers me but it was so warm against my tongue, I pulled away and looked up at him with his mess all over my mouth as his juice dripped down on my tits.

Despite looking like a total mess, he wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me into a kiss as he leads me onto his lap where I felt his tip tempting my core, his hands wanders its way in between my thigh and I melted the moment his cold fingers starts caressing my clit which I urged to grind my hips let alone a moan that escaped from my mouth as he paced faster. Before I could even run away from, he switch position leaving me underneath as he continued flickering my sensitive part. I was moaning like a mess careless who could’ve hear me at this rate, he pinned my arms above my head rather harsh and flushes his body against just so I hardly move.

I moaned incredibly loud when he pushed a finger inside of me, my body swiftly moves as he motioned back and forth leaving the sweet sensation all over my body.

“Look at me, mon amour”

Good lord his sexy accent makes it bittersweet. I knew it was bad idea to look into his alluring eyes, I gasped and scrunching my face when he pulled a two piece combo of one finger rubbing on my clit and one fucking me sensually. Damn, I want him so bad- oh! He found the spot, he noticed my expression and played in it for a while as a smirk creeped up on his face. He pulls out and sucked the soul out cleaning the juice off finger in every corner.

“Vous avez un goût délicieux” He says as he leaned down inserting his tongue into my mouth- damn I taste good! He pulls away trailing kisses down until he gets in between my thighs, he traces wet kisses along my ankle and I could’ve felt his warm breath fanning against my opening that was itching to be raw fucked. I arched my back when I felt his wet tongue on my folks, I looked down and his eyes was already gawking me like an eagle as he sucked the lifeless out of me. One thing about him, he doesn’t miss a show to watch his effect on me, he restrains my legs down from moving and I couldn’t do anything but wiggle underneath him as he practically made out with my desperate wet lips that were aching to get assaulted.

“I-I’m…fuck… close” I moaned out. I hold onto his hair for dear life as I felt myself about to explode, my toes curled and my back deepened it arch when it finally reach into that peak and just hearing the sound of him slurping every drop of my juice into his mouth as he continued to devour sparking up the fire in my core. I moaned practically cried out when I exploded into my second case, Charles pulls back and watches his work in progress. I couldn’t help but burst out into laughter at the mess on his face but it sure looks good on him.

“Loving the new face mask” I breathlessly joked.

“It’s my favorite one too, it’s called Mel’s juice” He smiles exposing his dimples as we both breathlessly laugh. He took a rise and so did his jumper, I furrowed my brows when he extends his hand out. I was hesitant at first but I had to come quick to my senses that I didn’t thought about all of this the min I let him walk in tasting me in his mouth. That shit was better than my old fling back home. I reluctantly took his hand despite the fact we was both bare naked and he leading me out to the balcony, he pulls me into a embrace as the cold breeze brushes past my skin and his lil jumper making a little surprise down there.

“Have you ever fucked in a balcony?” He asks, his trailing all over my body. My head falls back on his chest as he nuzzled his head in the crook of my neck feeling his wet tongue, certainly I have a lot of public sex but this one was absolutely bizarre. My room was on the top floor but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a large crowd of people downstairs and neighbors sleeping in hoping these thin walls hadn’t woke anyone up. I turned to face him and soon my left legs were lifted off from the ground leaving the other one down, he looks down and lines his cock with my opening.

“Charles, let’s- fuck…” I breathlessly moan as his throbbing cock finally rams into my pussy like the desperate whore it would be, his hands gripped my waist tight as he thrusts in with so much power, I can hardly hold myself up. The lovely music of our skin slapping and his singing vocals in my ear was just the sweetest thing ever, let alone how big and wet his strokes was igniting the flames all over my body. He felt so damn good. I can’t believe I’m fucking a F1 driver up in my hotel room, my roommate obsesses over this guy yet here I am getting dogged fucked by him.

“Fu-fuck…”

A small smirk lays upon his face knowing damn well he was behind all of moaning mess, I bit my lips trying to obtain any sound coming out of my mouth remembering I had neighbors next door but thay couldn’t be a simple task when he thrusted deep into my core hitting my G spot. Just the sight of the lustful frown plastered on his beet red face made me wetter even more making me forget about reality.

He seamlessly lifted me up with his body flushed against not allowing himself pull out as he takes us back inside, he gently placed me on the carpet floor and paused for a moment with his bright doe eyes staring into mines with a look of admiration, Charles fine ass fuck and he knows it.

“Tu es belle ma jolie fille” He spoke, it sounded so vanilla and sweet, my walls were beginning to clench around his cock. I don’t know what he said but overall his tops my favorite sex.



#writing #driver #black reader #smut #f1 x reader #random #charles leclerc #first post #imagine #18+ mdni

[stillness138]

where are characters from the first Hades game now, and some other character-centric theories:

inspired by this post by @thebuttsmcgee

so from the technical test gameplay stream we learned that Chronos straight up took over the underworld and kidnapped not only Hades, but Zagreus and Persephone too. out of the underworlders from the first game, Charon is still doing his thing in secret, Skelly returns in a new coat, the Wretched Broker is back too, and Hypnos is the only other guy from the House who's hiding at Hecate's hub, but he's also fast asleep...

personally, i think Hypnos might be cursed or something like that. Chronos using Hypnos's schtick against him? lose time by sleeping through it all? or maybe he just wakes up a bit later. hell, maybe he's always asleep during the test but not the final game because he would've dropped a spoiler or something.

so what about the rest?

assuming they're not all imprisoned somehow,

-Nyx and Thanatos: they could've fled to Chaos. a narrator's note at the Crossroads says that it houses 'those still loyal to lord Hades', but doesn't necessarily say 'all of them'. Nyx visits Chaos in the first game once their relationship is mended, and like the post i linked said, Than would've probably tried to protect the family and the House for as long as he could. but in the face of no other option, i think Chaos would be a viable place to flee to for the two of them, out of Chronos's reach similarly to the Crossroads. Than also visits the surface though, so maybe he'll show up at the Crossroads at some point? maybe in a plot point, trying to help Mel free Zag and the fam? both of them are important enough to warrant an appearance.

-the Furies: my idea is that all three of them were forced to serve Chronos. they're a very important part of security and upkeep down there, i think he would've wanted the realm's employees on his side. i don't however think they're going to be the bossfight between Asphodel and Tartarus. they, or Meg alone, should have some presence however.

-Sisiphus: it would be kinda cute if the furies went behind Chronos's back and helped to tuck Sisiphus away somewhere safe, given that he is loyal to Zag/the family and maybe that'd mean they were ordered to torture him again. depends on what Chronos's rule over the underworld looks like for the different shades there, but Melinoë speaks to the few that hang around at Crossroads in an almost comforting manner, so i imagine Chronos is trying to rule by fear and get shades on his side that way. Bouldy's gonna be sad, but fine. i hope. but at least a mention would be nice.

-Achilles and Patroclus (and Theseus&Asterius): ...they're probably separated again, aren't they... brainstorming now, i like (pain and) the idea that they're both in Elysium, just not together. because i think Elysium would've risen up as an army of sorts trying to oppose Chronos, given it's all warriors and heroes. separated by war. Nemesis having Stygius with her makes me believe Achilles could be wielding Varatha. additionally, Theseus being forced to step up and put his vanity aside, delicious idea i think. also, Mel arriving to this supposed paradise only to find it in a desolate state. all of them, i think, should be at the very least mentioned too.

-Orpheus and Euridice: they could be both hiding or imprisoned or forced to serve, but. what if this time it's Euridice who's looking for Orpheus. he's at the house and at Chronos's whim, while she makes it to the Crossroads and asks Mel for help. it'd be a shame if they were never heard from again.

-Cerberus: probably locked up with the fam :( orrr he's running wild all around the realm and Chronos is literally incapable of taming him. that would've been fun. Cerberus bossfight tho... nah. no way he wouldn't see something familiar in Mel. but it could be fun too if done right. he definitely has to reappear.

-Dusa: wild theory time but she's hiding in the rafters, spying on Chronos. :D. if the situation is much more dire, she's either also forced to serve, or even banished into Asphodel to be with the other gorgon heads. either way i think she'll pop up again in some capacity.

-House Contractor, Head Chef, Resource Director: probably unwillingly continuing their jobs under Chronos's rule. although the chef might've lost his job, depends if Chronos like, eats normal food. well mostly onions and fish but still. alternatively, the chef will also show up at Crossroads like the Wretched Broker does.

-THE GOOD SHADE from Elysium: okay war hero good shade arc when? i'm sorry, but i love them.

some other ideas, theories and wishes:

-the obvious one is Hera, like many others i also hope she will appear as a major boon giver.

-i have a feeling, however, that Hermes might not. it seems a bit that Artemis and Selene are filling up his role as the little bit specific boon giver, but maybe i'm wrong. Artemis provides crit boons just like in the first game and Selene has a bit more of a Chaos vibe to her. let's see.

-i do think, or would like it if, Chaos shows up, but not as a boon giver. but i believe they would definitely have something to say about Chronos's actions.

-back to Hermes though... there's that sealed staircase that leads upwards from the Crossroads. people have already been theorizing this, but there might seriously be a section of the game taking place on Olympus, or at the very least somewhere under it. still, i don't think Hermes would be a boon giver either if he does appear. i would however like to see him interact with Charon.

-the Fates will, i think, remain obscure, even if Moros has more of a connection to them. maybe they'll be mentioned and explored a bit more, but i wouldn't count on them appearing by themselves.

-i would however like to see at least one more of Nyx's kids. originally, i also hoped Erebus himself ever shows up personified, but i like what they've done with it as a place.

Eris is i'd say the biggest contender, given that she's namedropped in the first game through a weapon aspect and a purchasable item. maybe she's even boss material (again, if Nemesis has the sword, Eris may wield the rail).

-same thinking can be applied to Ariadne (she lives with Dionysus on Olympus, does she not?), Talos (giant robot made by Hephaestus, how cool is that), and Lamia (snake lady with personal history with Zeus and Hera, would even make for a cool boss too i think, although i always viewed her as a more melancholic figure. but i'm just spitballing here). there are also Atlas, Prometheus and other names on Charon's many items, those are less likely to make an appearance imo.

-Talos also obviously has a weapon aspect in the first one, and then there's Chiron. in myth, he is the son of Chronos. the juiciness of that situation, given he has a relationship with Achilles and Patty as well... perhaps he'll be Elysium's miniboss in the spirit of Asterius? or straight up a main boss? or actually a friendly? i really hope they did something with him, the potential is so very there.

-i think Daedalus will remain present just in name and spirit.

-now that i'm on the weapons though, for all we know there might not be such a thing as weapon aspects (at least not tied to specific figures) in Hades 2, but if there are, including hidden aspects, i'd like to see nods to more of other world mythologies/histories/cultures, like Egyptian, Japanese, pre-columbian American or Slavic.

-this brings me to keepsakes and companion plushies, if they're in the game at all and if so, who gives them out.

keepsake-wise, beside the olympians, Hecate is obvious, as well as Odysseus, and Nemesis and Moros are too. Arachne and Skelly also. Charon seems likely, so does Dora. maybe Hypnos if/when he wakes up. Selene, probably.

i'd say, if companions are a thing, it's also up to Nemesis and Moros, Odysseus, maybe Hecate, likely Arachne, and if there's 6 of them like last time, the final one will be from either Dora or someone we haven't seen yet. or Hecate doesn't give one (she's pretty op for a summon) but Skelly does.

-this also ties into romance! it's been deduced a long time ago, right when the trailer came out, that Nemesis and Moros are very likely romanceable. i also see the appeal and potential of romancing Dora, and from the technical test, i like Melinoë's friendship with Artemis. Hypnos's presence at the Crossroads is interesting from this point too, but i wouldn't guess he'll be romanceable if/when he wakes up.

there are more details to speculate about, especially in gameplay and resources (boss room rewards! the equivalent of nectar/ambrosia to give characters!) but i wanted to keep this mainly about the npcs.

honestly curious what other people are saying!

#hades the game #hades 2 #shut up elis #this got longer than i anticipated

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on 'Into the Breach'

Sorry, been busy with work and life and so has Doug.

Now, let's get onto the next episode, 'Into the Breach'.

CW: Pretty chill, by Doug's standards.

------------------

Episode 13: ''Johnny Cash would be Proud''

Welp, sometimes, you gotta go where you’re wanted. And for Little Orphan Blondie, she’s back at the Museum of Science and Industry, now doing shitty puzzles with the Jedi babies. I really do hope Gun Safety Muppet sat on one of his own guns after that bullshit, hate that blue puppet fucker. 

At least the little pink girl got to keep her souvenir doll from the gift shop that Stepsister Beth . I hope these babies are going around and stealing from the storage. I would. 

Church Lady left these guys in a shitty parking lot. Ha! Time waits for no man and she’s got a potluck with Sassy Park Ranger to prep for. 

Aw hell yeah! My boy Toaster Strudel showing up in a stolen work van. And Daddy Warcrimes and his boyfriend MBA Rob are wondering if there’s yet another sobbing family stuffed in the trunk they can ransom once they cross the border. Never change, you two. 

God MBA Rob looks and TALKS just like my asshole nephew. Ugh. “Do you think I’m lying?” “Yes!” 

Wow, Daddy Warcrimes and Julio ain’t taking no one’s shit. My boys!

Toaster Strudel even went into the Empire’s dumpster and yanked out an imperial uniform and forcing MBA Rob’s scruffy ass into it. Or maybe he hooked up with one and stole his clothes. Didn’t take Toaster Strudel for that but hey I don’t judge, that’s for Jesus and your God to do now ya know. 

(“Wait, that Echo likes dudes?”

“No, that he steals from people he’s banged. Come on now Meat Muffin, why you gotta be prejudiced and stuff, we got laws now, ain’t you seen Brokeback Mountain?”)

Oh, Stepsister Beth is on the struggle bus. Come ON, Stepsister Beth, start chatting with some of those other clones can get these babies out of here! Why all the male scientists got them windowless van mustaches? 

Scientist with bangs is a real bitch. Don’t like her. 

Look at Little Orphan Blondie plotting her way out of the Museum of Science and Industry! 

Oooh my boys going all Johnny Cash with the BLACK! Love it! And MBA Rob trimmed his ass down, looks like My Wife’s First Love in Star Trek, gotta give it to him, good look.

(“I’m assuming that’s Will Riker?”

“Yeah, Captain Picard’s Number 1.”

“Why not call him Riker since you know who he is?”

“My wife told me I’m not allowed.”

“....I’m not asking anymore.”)

MBA Rob’s super power is being a wild asshole. Ya know, that’s not always a bad thing. Man, he’s good at this. Ah, there’s Daddy Rambo shooting Stormtrooper dingbats and Toaster Strudel doing a thing. 

There’s Julio checking out the ladies on his cell phone. Wonder which lady he’s texting, lay that pipe where you can, brother. 

Is Toaster Strudel wearing jeans? Oh who cares–look at my boy kicking ass! Being all 007! Man, hope Alex-from-Manitoba is watching from heaven, proud of his boy! 

(Alex-from-Manitoba is Fives?!)

Julio fires up the stolen work truck, and off they go! Will they make it? Will they make it?! Come on, Daddy Rambo! Turn on some Folsom Prison Blues, you got this! 

Even Daddy Warcrimes knows that Toaster Strudel’s on it. No wonder they gotta sideline Toaster Strudel like this, when he comes on shift everything works. Dang. 

Woah! There they go! My boys! And Little Orphan Blondie! Woah! 

-------------------

Tagging my Cajun neighbor's fans! @skellymom @megmca @amalthiaph @cdblake1565 @sued134 @isthereanechoinhere96

#tbb #cloneforce99 #the bad batch #thebadbatch #redneck doug #cajun doug #doug watches star wars #the bad batch spoilers #star wars tv #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb spoilers season 3 #the bad batch season 3 #tbb rampart #tbb s3 #toaster strudel!

[9w1ft]

fam…. wow, what a year.

in the summer, i went to karlie’s birthday show, and on the way back i stopped through santa monica and pacific palisades just to soak in the rich kid ambiance, and well, no, actually, i wanted to check out jennifer meyer! because, well, idk. inspiration struck. it’s such a fun kaylorverse brand! and i thought, if enamored enough, i might be convinced into buying a tiny heart ring or charm or something, but they had just gotten in one of something recently and when i saw it i immediately knew i would be talked into it.

…so i picked up this tiny necklace from jen meyer. for obvious reasons.. i couldn’t help it! it spoke to me!!

fast forward to a handful of weeks later and taylor is… wearing evil eye jewelry! several pieces! more than several pieces!! even an evil eye stud!! and i come to deduce later on that the first time she wore the bracelet was the day before karlie’s birthday concert. which is a true coincidence that i love, because, it’s the day @taylorrepdetective and i happened to arrive in LA. and so today, reflecting on the eye theory as i do, i was thinking today about how my life changed shape, because of all of these things.

for april 18th is, as you may know, eye theory day! the day @swift-79 and i finalized and i posted the og eye theory post, back in 2019. also known as the eyepocalypse, discovereye, the start of many things.

today marks the four five year anniversary. it’s pretty wild that we’re still kickin it five years in! and it’s become a sort of tradition for me where i like to post a little something personal in honor of the day. so allow me to continue this one gratis.

second part of my story is that a little over a year ago now, i went to opening night of the eras tour with @theprologues and the day after the concert, on my way back, i stopped through scottsdale and walked through all the boutique shops and souvenir shops and picked up a trinket. a ring that called out to me, for…obvious reasons.

i mean, how could i not?? to commemorate a wonderful trip to meet a dear friend, and for all the eye theory things that happened on opening night!

and it’s been a year since then and i’m one of those people that just doesn’t take jewelry off, so it’s been on my finger for all this time. it was a snug fit, and silver, so it both wasn’t coming off easily and wouldn’t be leaving a green ring on my hand or anything, so i have kept it there. for a little over a year now.

but the other day someone was asking me about it. and i was like oh, i got this in arizona and so i went to adjust it to show it off because the center stone was off to the side and when i twisted it i noticed a mark on my finger, an indent, for having worn it so long.. and i sorta laughed to myself because, you know, there is an indentation. in the shape of an eye.

so i decided to take the thing off for a sec and let my finger breathe and so i take off the ring and notice— the shape of the ring has changed.

what once was centered, has now fully to morphed and warped the right side. 🙈🙈 c’est la vie.

i only write this out to say that, it had me thinking. about all the fun we had for this fourth turn around the theory, all the dear friends i have met, all the tour outfits, the accessories and merch?!… all of the little connections we have made over this… thing 😆 it had me thinking about how there are always going to be these fun little moments in life where the universe winks at you and, and how if you can manage it, it’s a charmed way to live, really. reminded me of the time i lost karlie’s gem on my swarovski evil eye bracelet at rep tour tokyo! that is to say, when the going gets tough, it can still be fun. if you work to give yourself permission. as one might say…there are cathedrals everywhere for those with the eyes to see 🥴

it didn’t really occur to me until this week just how close the release date is to the eye theory anniversareye ☺️ and i’m not sure what this countdown is for but it’s running out so close to when the op was posted five years ago so i decided to post around now :) not to say any of it was anything more than accidental. but hey, laughter is the best medicine, is it not?

so omnom, i say! omnom!

and so today, on ts11 album release eve,

i implore all of you (and myself) to open our hearts juuust a crack,

and keep on the lookout for the gold nuggets that are going to be there. assume taylor will perjure herself a bit during this trial, relax, allow yourself the enjoy what we get, like nobody else truly can.

and so eye enter into evidence…

literally a bajillion things let’s be real like oh my god

our tarnished post of eyes, my indentations, shaped like…occulations,

our talismans and charms.

the tap, tap, tap of me selecting bert memes, my veins of bloodshot pink.

all’s fair in love and…

poetreye.

#all eyes on us #happy anniversareye 🫶

[charmingsoa]

✶ Where the Wild Things Are: Two ✶ ■ 1960s Sons of Anarchy story ■

⌃ Jax Teller/ OC x Thomas Teller/OC ⌃

Warning: Please read with caution. This story will include: drug use, physical, verbal, and sexual abuse. miscarriages, sexual content, alcohol use, homicide, cursing, etc. ★ If You would like to be tagged in future updates, simply leave your username in the comments.

Taglist: @oskea93, @keyweegirlie @ravennaortiz

As the California sun beat down on me, the wind whipping through my hair as I rode on the back of the motorcycle, I couldn't help but reflect on the narrow-minded beliefs my parents had instilled in me and my brothers. Growing up in a conservative household where conformity and judgment were the norm, I had always been taught to view anyone who rode motorcycles as nothing but trash – individuals destined for the depths of hell.

My parents, staunch believers in their own sect of holy rollers, held strong prejudices against those who lived differently or held alternative beliefs. They saw the world in black and white, with no room for shades of gray or understanding. But as I clung to the back of the driver, feeling the freedom of the open road beneath me, I realized how misguided their teachings had been.

The rider in front of me, a stranger whose name I learned was Tig, exuded a sense of liberation and rebellion that I had never experienced before. The rumble of the engine beneath us seemed to drown out the judgmental voices of my past, and for the first time, I felt truly alive.

When the group first pulled up in front of me, I didn’t know whether to take their offer or run for the distant hills. Growing up, the horror stories of gangs kidnapping young girls and doing the unthinkable were ingrained in my psyche as my mother preached of their dangers. She would spew words of hatred and fear whenever the topic arose, warning me to steer clear of any suspicious-looking individuals or groups that might pose a threat.

As I stood there, frozen in indecision, the leader of the group stepped forward with a smile that seemed almost too friendly for someone in his position. His eyes held a glint of mischief, but there was something else there too – a hint of vulnerability that I couldn’t quite place.

"Hey there, don’t be afraid," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "We’re just a group of travelers looking for some company on the road. We mean you no harm."

I hesitated, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Should I trust this stranger and accept his offer of companionship, or should I heed the warnings of my mother and make a run for it? The decision weighed heavily on my shoulders, the consequences of each choice playing out vividly in my mind.

In the end, curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself nodding hesitantly, agreeing to join the group on their journey. As I climbed onto the back of his bike and we set off down the road together, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was embarking on an adventure that would change my life forever.

As we finally started to slow down upon entering a small town called Charming, I couldn't help but notice the reactions of the locals as the bikes rumbled past. Pedestrians on the sidewalk stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening with surprise and disapproval as they watched the group pass by. Disapproving looks were etched on their faces, and I could almost feel the judgment radiating towards them.

The quaint shops and cafes that lined the main street seemed to quiet down as we rode through, the sound of the engines cutting through the peaceful ambiance of the town. I could see the whispers and sideways glances exchanged among the townspeople, their curiosity mixed with a hint of fear or disdain.

The men didn’t seem to mind the disapproving looks from the townspeople – smirks on some of their faces as they revved their engines a little more as they passed by. The sound of the engines roared through the quiet streets, echoing off the old brick buildings that lined the road.

As they pulled into a side entrance of a garage, I knew this was officially the end of the line for them. I watched as they parked side-by-side, each backing their bikes into their assigned spaces. The engines sputtered to a halt, the sound gradually fading into the background as the men dismounted and stretched their legs.

I quickly gathered my things, removing myself from the bike, my legs feeling equivalent to jelly as they gathered the strength to hold up my weight. The adrenaline that had fueled me through the ride was now dissipating, leaving behind a feeling of exhaustion and exhilaration.

I leaned against a nearby lamppost, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The men exchanged nods and grins as they gathered in a loose circle, their leather jackets creaking slightly as they moved.

One of them, a tall man with a patchwork of tattoos covering his arms, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered them around. The faint smell of smoke mingled with the lingering scent of gasoline, creating a heady mix that hung in the air.

As they lit up and took long drags, their faces relaxed into expressions of contentment. The tension that had hung over them during the ride seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose.

The door to the business slowly opened, an older woman stepped onto the concrete below. Her presence commanded attention, exuding a sense of authority and confidence that made it clear she was not to be underestimated. The leather pants she wore hugged her figure, accentuating her strong and graceful movements as she made her way towards the men.

Her blonde highlights caught the sunlight, creating a halo of shimmering gold around her head. Despite the warmth of the day, there was a coolness in her gaze that hinted at a steely resolve beneath the polished exterior. I observed from a respectful distance as Gemma interacted with the men, her gestures filled with warmth and affection that spoke of deep bonds and shared history. She moved among them with ease, exchanging hugs and kisses that spoke of a familial closeness that went beyond mere camaraderie.

A tall man approached her from behind, his presence exuding a sense of quiet strength and authority. He wrapped his strong arms around her small waist, drawing her close in a gesture that was both protective and intimate. The woman’s laughter rang out, a clear and joyful sound that seemed to light up the space around them.

Their lips met in a brief but tender kiss, a display of affection that was unapologetically open and genuine. There was a sense of ease and comfort between them, a connection that ran deep and unspoken, forged through years of shared experiences and challenges.

My eyes moved away from the couple as the door reopened, this time revealing a blonde man. He looked to be in his early 20s – shoulder length hair resting against his work shirt. I don’t know how I looked to those around, but it was almost like how a cartoon character’s draw drops to the floor – he was gorgeous. I watched as he stepped off the stoop, sauntering over to the circle of men, clapping them on the back as he welcomed their return.

I was so caught up in the enigmatic presence of the blonde man that I failed to notice another individual had quietly slipped into the corner with us – the older woman with a knowing smile playing on her lips. Her voice, smooth and seasoned, cut through the hazy atmosphere around us.

"You lost, kitten?" she inquired, her tone a curious blend of amusement and concern. Her eyes, framed by fine lines that whispered of wisdom and experience, held a glint of something indefinable, as though she saw more than just the surface of things.

Startled by her sudden appearance and the unexpected nickname, I turned to face her, momentarily at a loss for words. The air between us crackled with a kind of unspoken understanding, as if she could see right through the facade I presented to the world.

“Sorry-“ I stammered. “I – uh-“

A smile spread across her face as she placed her hand on my arm, her touch warm and comforting. "You must be the little one the guys picked up on their way home. Tig told me all about you when he called a little while ago."

Memories of when we stopped at the gas station hours before came flooding back – the smell of gasoline, the flickering lights, and the sound of chatter from the other customers. I remembered my eyes connecting with Tig’s as he spoke animatedly in the glass box, his voice carrying a sense of urgency and excitement.

"What’s your name, sweetheart?" the woman asked, her eyes kind and curious.

Tucking a loose red strand of hair behind my ear, I replied, "Catherine. Catherine Landry." My voice was low, almost a whisper, as if unsure of my own presence in this moment.

The woman's smile widened, a glint of recognition flashing in her eyes. "Catherine Landry," she repeated softly, as if savoring the sound of the name. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Catherine. I'm Gemma."

As I started to speak, the sound of gravel crunching beneath heavy steps caught my attention, drawing my gaze away from Gemma. I turned, my eyes following the path of the approaching figure with blonde hair that glinted in the bright sunshine.

He walked with purpose, his strides confident and measured, his presence commanding attention. The gravel shifted under his weight, creating a rhythmic pattern that seemed to echo the beating of my heart.

As he drew closer, I noticed the intensity in his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to search and assess, taking in every detail of the scene before him. There was a certain magnetism about him, a silent strength that seemed to radiate from his very being.

Gemma's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of recognition crossing her features as she greeted him with a nod. "Hey baby," she said, her voice warm and welcoming.

As the two embraced one another, I stood there, a silent observer to the intimate moment unfolding before me. The man's eyes remained fixed on me, a hint of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite decipher lingering in their depths.

Gemma's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her embrace filled with a sense of familiarity and comfort. There was a closeness between them, a bond that seemed to transcend words and time.

I watched as they held each other, their connection palpable in the air around them. It was as if they shared a history, a story that only they knew, leaving me on the outside looking in, a stranger to their world.

As they finally pulled away, a silent understanding passing between them, the man turned his gaze back to me. There was a question in his eyes, a silent inquiry that hung in the air, waiting to be answered.

As Gemma turned her attention back to me, her warm smile lighting up her face, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within me. "Catherine," she began, her voice filled with a sense of familiarity and fondness, "This is my son, Jackson."

Jackson. The name echoed in my mind, stirring something deep within me. I looked up to meet his gaze, finding a pair of eyes that held a hint of curiosity and a touch of amusement.

Gemma's introduction caught me off guard, her words painting a picture of me as a lost soul in need of rescue. "She's the little thing that Tig and the guys picked up along the way," she explained, her tone lighthearted but tinged with a hint of motherly concern.

I couldn't help but inwardly roll my eyes at her explanation, feeling a twinge of annoyance at being likened to a stray puppy. It was true that I had found myself in an unexpected situation, but I was no damsel in distress in need of saving.

As I exchanged greetings with Jackson, a sense of curiosity sparked within me. There was something about him, a quiet strength and a depth in his eyes that hinted at hidden layers beneath the surface.

Jackson smirked and his eyes roamed up my body, a wave of self-consciousness washed over me, causing a slight flush to rise to my cheeks. His gaze held a hint of mischief and confidence, leaving me momentarily flustered in his presence.

"It's nice to meet you too," I replied, trying to maintain a composed demeanor despite the flutter of nerves within me. There was something magnetic about Jackson, an undeniable charm that drew me in even as I felt the weight of his scrutiny.

Gemma's proud voice interrupted the moment, drawing my attention back to her as she spoke of her son. "Jax is the leader of the group," she said with a hint of pride. "Along with my other son, Thomas." The revelation that there were two brothers leading the group took me by surprise. “Club comes from a strong line of Teller men," Gemma continued, her tone filled with reverence and hope for the future. "Hoping to continue that tradition in the future." She affectionately patted Jackson's chest, her gesture a symbol of both maternal pride and a legacy to uphold.

Jackson rolled his eyes at his mother's suggestion, a hint of amusement danced in his gaze.

"Trust me," he stated, his deep voice carrying a sense of authority that cut through the air, "She's really the one in charge."

The bond between Jackson and Gemma was palpable from the very beginning. It was clear to anyone who observed them that they shared a special connection, a closeness that went beyond words. Jackson was the one closest to his mother, their relationship built on a foundation of trust, understanding, and unwavering loyalty.

In contrast, Thomas seemed to be as far removed from Gemma as possible. There was a distance between them, an unspoken divide that hinted at unresolved issues and unspoken tensions. While Jackson and Gemma thrived in each other's company, Thomas seemed to seek solace elsewhere, distancing himself from the intricate web of relationships that defined their family dynamic.

Jax and Gemma's bond ran deep, a complex tapestry of emotions that intertwined their fates in ways that were both captivating and destructive. They fed off each other's energy, their connection fueled by a sense of mutual need and dependency that bordered on obsession.

Thick as thieves one moment, brutal enemies the next, their relationship was a rollercoaster of emotions that played out like a high-stakes drama. Time slipped away, leaving behind a trail of unresolved conflicts and simmering tensions that threatened to erupt at any moment.

The heat that Gemma placed between her two sons was a double-edged sword, igniting a fire that fueled their passions and their conflicts in equal measure. Theirs was a relationship fraught with complexity, where love and loyalty mingled with jealousy and resentment, creating a volatile mix that kept them locked in a perpetual dance of push and pull.

Thomas felt the weight of his mother Gemma's favoritism like a heavy chain, binding him to a perpetual cycle of disappointment and resentment. From a young age, he watched as Gemma showered his older brother Jackson with praise and attention, leaving him in the shadows of Jax's achievements. Despite his best efforts to earn her approval, Gemma's preference for Jackson was unwavering, creating a toxic atmosphere of rivalry and animosity between the Teller brothers.

"So, from what I heard, you’re hitching to San Francisco?” Gemma spoke as she looked at me with curiosity. “What’s so important down there that you had to leave home for?” She pushed past her son, taking hold of my arm as she started walking up towards the building.

“From the looks of you-“She did a once over. “Looks to me like you’re running away from something – midwestern lifestyle, perhaps?” Gemma's keen observation caught me off guard, her words cutting through my carefully crafted facade. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way I hadn't anticipated.

I cleared my throat nervously, feeling the weight of my confession hanging in the air. "My parents are very conservative – conservative and very religious," Her eyes closing in understanding, Gemma listened intently as I opened about my inner conflict. "They're lovely people – " I began to backpedal, feeling a need to qualify my earlier statement. "But the life I want to live doesn't match with how they want me to live. I want to be able to be free and do what I please, but they're all about the image and how the Lord wants us to live our lives."

"You ran away?" Gemma's voice was filled with concern and empathy, her eyes searching mine for answers.

I nodded slowly, the memories of that night flooding. "Left in the middle of the night after my father beat me with a switch," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes cast down to the ground, unable to meet Gemma's gaze as the shame and hurt of that moment washed over me once again. "He called me awful names, and my mother just sat there and watched."

Gemma's back straightened, a steely resolve entering her expression as she processed my words. "Doesn't sound to me like they're lovely people," she stated firmly, her voice tinged with indignation.

I shrugged my shoulders, “That’s just how they are – been like that my whole life.” I knew I shouldn’t be making excuses for them, but they were my parents. “I’m the only daughter – I was supposed to be the epitome of a perfect daughter.”

“What could be so bad that your daddy beats you?”

I watched as she pulled out a cigarette, gesturing for me to take one as well. She quickly lit the end of the stick, the smoke invading my lungs with ease. “I started messing around with boys at an early age – sex, drugs, dancing. Sex was my go-to though. They didn’t want their only daughter being known as the town whore, which I guess I became. I was supposed to save myself until I was married – only letting my wedded husband lay between my legs.”

Gemma chuckled, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Sounds a lot like my folks," she remarked, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and humor.

"I just needed to get away, and after seeing all those people on the nightly news coming out here and living life their own way and being free and peaceful –" I paused, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. "I just need that in my life right now. A life where I can be free and do whatever I want to do. And if that means I have to do negative things to get to that place, then so be it."

As I spoke, I felt a mix of determination and uncertainty churning within me. The longing for freedom and self-expression had grown into a burning desire, fueled by the stories of those who had dared to defy conventions and carve out their own paths. The allure of a life unbound by limitations and expectations beckoned to me like a distant star, promising a sense of liberation and authenticity that had eluded me for so long.

“You know –“Gemma started. “The Frisco area isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Her tone matter of fact. “I know it looks all peace and love on the tv screen but it’s really just a bunch of homeless hippies that are looking for attention and free handouts.”

I let out an annoyed sigh.

"Listen, little girl," her voice took on a more serious tone, the lines on her face softening with a mix of concern and affection. "You've accomplished the biggest goal you set for yourself – you made it all the way to California." She paused, letting the significance of the moment sink in before continuing.

A wide smile slowly spread across her face, reflecting pride and admiration. "By what you just told me, that was the ultimate goal. Now, I know going a little further south for the whole peace and love movement was the next quest, but I think for your sake it would be better for you to stay here."

“I don’t know anyone here, though.” I was grasping for excuses.

Her face twisted in a mix of concern and determination. "You weren't gonna know anyone down there either." She tossed her cigarette down, the ember extinguishing under the pressure of her heeled shoe. "You've managed to meet a whole crew of men that will now look after you if you choose to stay. You've met me and Jax – you'll get to meet Thomas when he decides to come home. You're no longer around strangers, baby doll. We can be your family – a family that'll treat you right."

Her voice softened, the edges of her tough exterior melting away to reveal a deep sense of care and protection. "We've seen the world through different lenses, faced our own battles, and carved out our own paths in this chaotic dance of life. But amidst all the chaos, we found each other – kindred spirits bound by shared experiences and unspoken connections."

The older woman's eyes held a glimmer of hope, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance. "You have a home here, among friends who will stand by you through thick and thin, who will lift you up when you stumble and celebrate your victories as their own. Take a chance on us, darling. Let us be the family you never knew you needed, but always longed for deep in your heart."

I would end up staying in that small fucking town for the next 25 years – my whole world coming to revolve around the Teller family and the Sons of Anarchy.

#sons of anarchy fanfiction #jax teller #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam imagine #soa #austin butler imagine #austin butler #benny the bikeriders #the bikeriders imagine #the bikeriders #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austinbutler #Spotify

[thotsforvillainrights]

Shigaraki smut headcanons? Sorry if you've already done this, I just love crusty boi. (　＾ω＾)

(You're fine, Anon! It's one of those cases where it FEELS like it's been done but probably hasn't lol. I went and checked the new and old masterlist and couldn't find anything. Now's my chance to add it to the collection ^_^)

~Shigaraki Smut Headcanons~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

-Really would like to say he's a freak in bed but I don't think he's all that wild...at least not at first. I feel like he has a lot of love to give when he opens himself up for it. There's not really much lust between the two of you at first (not on his end at least). His walls are up really high and for a while he starts to feel really guilty about developing feelings for you. He's not sure if he deserves to have love given to him, or to give love to others. All his life he's been focused on what he hates and not enough on what he could love. When you come along, he's filled with anger at the fact you were able to get to him so easily.

-He can't deny any longer that he has feelings for you. When you try to reciprocate these feelings then it becomes complex. He's not letting you in as easily. He prays at night that you give up on him, that you leave for your own good. At the same time he wants to open himself up to you but he just doesn't know how. When he finally decides to let himself go and feel for once in his life, it becomes likely the most beautiful and simultaneously terrifying experience he's had. When you say you love him, it's invigorating. When you touch him...touch his skin of all people, he feels special. He feels confused all at the same time. Why would you chose him?

-He's scared at first to talk about you, to feel pride out loud. he's scared he'll somehow jinx things and that he'll wind up hurting or even worse is that he'll wind up hurting you instead. It's not just the mental hurt he's worried about either. It's the pysical hurt and the crushing idea that he might slip up and you'll be gone forever. Even with gloves as a precaution, he's still not up to the idea of touching you. Why should he when he doesn't deserve to touch you anyway? A demon with an angel like you? What a cruel and disgusting joke. Don't you know if he were to mess up then you'd be nothing more than a pile of ash and memories? You don't care. You want his touch, his hugs and kisses. And just like always, he's weak to deny you. He gives up and cautiously inches into the next phase of your relationship.

-When the sex finally comes into play, he feels a bit overwhelmed. Understandably you should come to expect him not lasting very long for the first few times. Can you blame him? You're something akin to a sinful pool of gold and he's strong enough to hold back. He's focusing all his energy on making you feel good, keeping a handle on his quirk, and trying not to hurt you all at the same time. Your sex brings fireworks out. His vision gets spotty once before and leave him wondering if he might pass out. He's breathless, his skin damp with sweat and his legs weak...shaking from your activities together. He's quiet but you can still hear him making sound just for you. It's all for you.

-Because he won't focus on his own pleasure, you end up taking the reigns in that department. It takes some time for him to settle down and accept that you actually WANT to make him feel good instead. Of course you do, why wouldn't you want to return the favor? He can't grasp the concept at first. That's okay, he didn't need to think too hard. Just lay back and let you handle it yes?

-His drive doesn't seem to be that high, nor too low. If anything, he's a perfect in-between, matching your pace perfectly. He's moldable like clay for you. He'll fold and bend at your will but he also remains understanding of his own needs and preferences as well. I think maybe later on in the relationship you can see him getting a little rougher in bed. Of course at your request, he learns the ins and outs of it. Shigaraki after gaining a power-up shows a considerable difference in the ways he goes about things but that's a story for a different time.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #smut #minor dni #minors dni

[aheathen-conceivably]

Ok so I read the post on your thoughts on Gio and the American Dream and I hate to say it … as an immigrant, I understand him.

I also come from a culture where women tend to their male partner's needs and I don't believe he wants to turn Jo into a subservient wife. He fell in love with a lively, free, and wild Jo and loves that aspect of her.

At the end of the day she loves him too so why would she leave? I understand she doesn't like to be dependent of him but where else would she go? There are no parties or glamour, which was her whole thing, anymore. At least the farm offers stability in the economic crisis.

Point is, I understand Gio as an immigrant, but don't understand Jo as a woman.

BABES! We’ve got another one…

(As in me being touched and having no other means to say how much I love y’all takes other than to give them a standing ovation in GIF form).

But you know…there’s a whole lot to break down here, friend, especially about Jo. I think you know what that means! Under the cut we go….

First and foremost, I very much appreciate you saying you understand that aspect of Gio. I did in part write him as a commentary on the immigrant experience in America (filtered through his own personality/character of course), and so to know that is relatable means a lot to me. I don’t think it’s a spoiler to tell y’all his journey is far from over, and you can already see the cracks in his outlook beginning to form. Whenever Jo is depressed he says this quite vividly:

Because you are very, very correct. This isn’t about molding Jo into some subservient housewife, or even eroding those exact qualities that he loves in her. This is about Gio attempting to square what he’s been taught/believes will bring his life happiness and meaning with his own experience and emotions. It’s about the myth of the American dream and the perfect housewife and the very real struggle of those things existing as actual, lived realities.

Because at the root of it, Gio is amalgamating an understanding of his own family unit and what he knows he doesn’t want in this country. He has seen another methods of “making it” in America, and so he thinks if only he can make the “right” choices, he can avoid that, and become the respected and happy man that he wants to be.

Now onto Jo, boy oh boy, Jo….

I think one of the core misunderstandings here is that Jo wants stability. This is kind of the crux built into her desire for control and her never-ending failure to achieve it. She wants to control her surroundings, to make sure nothing and no one can hurt her, but she also wants to feel in a way that is hard to find in a stable, heavily domesticated life. On the flip side, despite whatever imaginary dream Gio has, he’s the same way. They both want a life filled with excitement and new experiences, new people and rushes of emotions. This is one of the ways they differ heavily from Antoine and Zelda.

Now on one level, this is simply the way Josephine is. She’s high energy, fun loving, and insatiable. But on a deeper level, this is tied into her experiences not only as a woman, but as a daughter. She has a brief moment of clarity in that last post where she realizes:

Now I have chosen not to go too in-depth on Josephine’s trauma, but you can see her lay out the course of events here and also her deep hesitation to any of it here. Josephine is still only a teenager in that second post. Her mother not only told her things like that (“this is the weight that prejudice and expectation have placed upon us”) but also “what do you want to be then? Some glorified maid to a man?” (Which, frankly, I can write another Ted Talk about the juxtaposition here, but I think ya'll can pull some threads).

So when you see Josephine’s struggle with control, this is heavily rooted in bodily autonomy. Now all things considered, Josephine has managed to make great strides toward reclaiming this and reasserting not only her sexuality, but also her sense of self in her body. Gio knows this. We see him recognize and respect it quite clearly in that last post. He’s been part of that process for her, and that only adds another element of love, trust, and safety between them.

But on a fundamental level, neither Gio nor Josephine has made the connection between that trauma, her own personality, and why she hates her life now so much:

Here’s the issue right now: Josephine doesn’t feel like she’s living her own life. We have seen how she would like to live in the 20s not just in the parties and glamour, but when she was managing bands. She wants to be fulfilled professionally, through helping people/places she believes in and bettering her own life by bettering theirs. That’s how she gets her joy, and that’s what she would chose to do if given the chance.

And right now, she does not feel like she gets to chose. You’re correct in that part of that is coming from the current economic situation. Again, she sees that herself here. She knows what demons are waiting outside her window, and how easily poverty can make them rearise. That only makes it worse. It doesn’t make the smell of bread (domestic security) any better or more comforting. It makes it bitter, because she didn’t chose it. She was backed into a corner by circumstance (and, as she can sense, by the choices men made for her without telling her), and now she feels like she can’t say no. That’s her ultimate trigger.

Now whether or not that loss of control is simply perceived, or should be offset by how “lucky” she is to be in a stable position in such precarious economic times, we might all have different options on. Even more, I’m sure each of us would answer differently for ourselves in that situation. I know I would. But for Josephine? Not only is this a life she will never find joy in, because even without her trauma, she is an ambitious, restless, and outgoing person with different goals for herself; but that added memory and pain makes her reaction to it all the more volatile.

Perhaps most importantly, Jo feels as though her life is being controlled again, whether by Gio, the reality of the world outside her window, or by her own guilt/love that makes her feel beholden to the people around her (just like it did to her mother). Because you’re right, she does love him. She wouldn’t leave because she doesn’t. If she leaves now, it would leave because she panicked, because she feels like she’s lost all the autonomy she worked so hard to regain and she’ll never feel the fulfillment she felt when she was successfully independent ever again. That’s the element I hope we can understand, even if it’s not what we would do.

#okay THAT might be my longest Ted Talk yet 🤣 #which if you’re actually reading you really deserve a tshirt let’s be real #and I’m so very sorry they’re so long #I try and infuse them into all the posts but like to condense it and write it all out clearly can be so helpful sometimes #for me too let’s be real #and like I want them to have a real solid base before we move into ~the great unknown~ #anywho there’s a number of threads I could have touched on here that I didn’t for ~time~ #but if you’d like to go through the #Josephine Duplanchier extra #tag there’s some good stuff there too 😉 #Giorgio Mistretta extra #also #*ahem* #does it REALLY offer stability in the economic crisis? #y’all remembering what I’m remembering? 😬 #ain’t a true American dream without a healthy serving of debt aint it

[biohazard-inevitable]

Hair

They say that hair holds stories, that the style is what makes a man.

They say long locks make you a pansy and a real man should have it short lest they be mistaken for a girl.

Where I grew up, every man buzzed their hair down.

It was a shame for it to be long and shaggy, and mothers would fuss over you, insisting upon a haircut.

For girls, it was fine.

They could have hair as long as they wanted or as short as they needed, so long as it wasnt buzzed as short as a man’s.

Being anything else just wasn’t a thing round these parts where churches chimed every sunday, pastors clammoring around resturants and filling their quotas in a single lunch.

So I buzzed mine.

I tried as hard as I could to seem as manly as possible

To appear as bull of a brute as any cowboy should.

I wore all the boy things and had all the short boy hair.

My scalp was sensitive anyways, so I thought it didn’t bother me.

It was better shorter.

Wasnt it?

I still gazed and clammored about the anime boys I saw on screen or in Otome games though.

I gushed about how pretty they were with hair down their backs like a silken curtain, or whipping wild through the air like the mane of a lion.

Legolas was never deemed as not manly enough

Beither was Zen or inuyasha or the undertaker.

A crush, I supposed.

Because of course thats all it was.

I was a gay little boy with gay little crushes and my type was men with long, Beautiful hair.

Right?

My hair was a dull, discolored brown from the shimmering blonde it used to be, the blonde I remember from kindergarten.

I tried to return to that blonde with bleach.

My school didnt allow unnatural colors, so anything was better than that matted, oily brown.

Shaved short and as platinum as a ken doll, I should have been as man as ever.

4 years, I stayed like that, and while the short hair was easy to take care of, I felt as hideous as a pile of sludge.

It didnt matter if I was loved for my looks, I supposed.

Wouldn’t that be too vain of me?

Boys weren’t supposed to care about what they looked like, they werent supposed to coo and admire Beautiful hair or seethe in jealousy that their sister looked so much better and has such long, goregous hair.

It wasn’t until after high school that I began to explore.

Covid let me grow my hair out more, though I still trimmed the sides.

I let my bangs grow long and shaggy over my face, like a veil to hide me from the world.

Eventually I dyed it again, this time going with that green I had always wanted to try, the one I had seen on my favorite youtuber growing up, fluffy and emerald.

Still, for years more, I kept it short. Only allowing that fringe to hover over me as some sort of style.

Recently though, I’ve realized I want that hair that those anime men had.

I want that soft curtain rolling down my back like waves of an ebony river, flecks of mossy green dotting it like a miasma of toxin flowing through the oily black stream.

I want the hair like the ring girl

The people around me are foolish and prudent to think the length of ones hair makes you more or less of a man.

I know that now, and I’m glad I do.

I want to stop pretending not to like things

#long post #personal #idk what else to tag #hair #trans #transgender #just thinkin about How different i treat my hair these days #its more beautiful than its ever been and keeps being beautiful #i’ve been dying it for 8 years now #and i wouldnt change a thing #except maybe the length #ive always loved long hair #i just mever felt like i was allowed to have it as a man #because i was worried it would make me less masculine #and to some people it does #i get called ma’am a lot #even with my chin scruff #i have a high voice when i speak to customers #but none of that matters #this area wont recognize me no matter what i do #so im just gonna do things i like #and hope that those i love will respect me and how i wish to be called #which i know they will

[chobani-flip]

buddie goggles and why you might enjoy wearing them more if you acknowledge them

so yeah, i think the buddie goggles are a real issue. (ive had them too, fellow shippers, no judgment) like, is it possible that buck and eddie will at some point start a deeply fulfilling romantic relationship? yes. is it what's happening on screen right now and what the show is 100% suggesting is imminent? no. sorry, it's just not.

look, the thing with analysing and interpreting any text is that it's very much about finding things that the text is doing, what could be there, looking at it from different angles and choosing to focus on certain aspects: that's why you have feminist readings of X and queer readings of Y, etc

but if you go looking at a text with the intention of looking for authorial intent and secret messages the author is leaving that only you and the fandom can pick up on correctly? that's such a slippery, tricky slope.

consider:

simply communicating ideas face to face to one single other person can often end in misunderstandings

communicating ideas in writing?... well, we live in the pissing on the poor era of the internet, don't we.

like, how many times have you read/written something, looked at the comments and gone: but...that's not what's there? like, interesting that you see it, but also, i don't know where you got that from

see where I'm going with this?

there is so much that goes into the making of a tv show besides the script and actors' delivery that i am absolutely not an expert on: costumes, set dressing, blocking, lighting, editing, soundtrack...

taking any of those aspects and analysing it and looking for connections is my favourite thing to do and read about and...

ngl, watching the show and looking for buddie in all of them is so much fun. i love it, it's what got me into 911 in the first place.

but i promise you, the moment you stop acknowledging that that's what you're doing, that what you're doing is a Buddie reading of 911, and instead proclaim it as the one single truth? that's when you set yourself up for a wild and not always pleasant ride.

and this isn't about having or not having faith in the writers or buddie or the one they call tim, and honestly, it's kind of telling that the word "faith" is used so often.

it's about accepting that while watching a tv show, we're all putting ourselves in a position of observing the shadows of plato's cave with binoculars on a low-visibility day. (ok. that's a really pretentious twatty thing to say, but i'll leave it there because i think the image is funny. ) and no amount of media literacy is going to give you a clear insight into the minds and intentions of all of the people creating the show (can we please stop shouting at people to get "media literacy" if they disagree with our interpretation of a text, even if what they're saying sounds dumb)

now, i don't know if yall were here for the TJLC thing back then, and I am absolutely not saying that what the Sherlock show did and what 911 is doing is in any shape or form similar, however, on tumblr and amongst the fandom, the lead-up to season 4 and then the secret fourth episode fallout felt exactly like what some parts of the 911 fandom are doing now. so... just take care, friends. and don't be dicks to people who disagree with you over a ship.

#9-1-1 #911 abc #911 season 7 #buddie #bucktommy #buddie goggles

[fictionkinfessions]

what a wild experience it is to be relatively young while also having a large number of past lives constantly popping up in my memory.

i've been nonhuman more times than i know, but just like i suited myself then, humanity fits me perfectly now. i have more estranged family members than the combined amount of everyone i've met in this life, but still act awkward around my blood relatives because i haven't quite gotten confident in this new self yet. i've worked any imaginable number of jobs but my new first one still seems just as intimidating, at least socially. i've held unbelievable, unsustainable power and more times than not used it for good, for the sake of my people, but i feel guilty accepting simple help from my loved ones. every past and present social convention is more suggestion to me now, yet still i follow, knowing there's nothing worse than being above or below everything where the only part of you others can see is your shadow.

where i once was the pitch black void of destruction for my enemies, i'm now small and soft and doting, and the craziest part is, i was always both.

i cycle between feeling intimidated by/estranged to those older than me and thinking of people my age or older as kids. just like most anyone, they're rambunctious and unafraid and openly, adorably don't know what they're doing because, in their eyes, it's the beginning of their first time. i've done that, too, but remembering it from the perspective of beyond keeps me from experiencing it quite the same way again. the amount of times even before adulthood i have been referred to as an "old soul" is comical- i am old, so old that my highest desire is to teach, to care, to protect others whenever they need it, yet i'll never be too old to remain young in the ways that matter. every menial "coming of age" thing i have done and will go on to do i have done once, twice, a thousand times, but this time is not special in that it won't be when i stop getting excited. my brain prevents me from remembering it all, but if i've learned anything, it's that excitement and joy are all that remain when all else fades away. knowing this means every choice i make will not be a missed or seized opportunity, rather a dedication to love and life itself.

i've had the hard truths of existence carved into my mind over and over. i've been broken and reassembled and built up to tumble back again, yet each time i move on, the burning remnants become nothing more than a fuzzy afterimage that superimposes itself on my being, now entirely different in the exact same way. really, that's the beauty of it; a different body and mind with the same information will come to a different conclusion, even if similar. no set of hands can sculpt a lump of clay the exact same way twice. i am the clay and i am the hands and i am the eyes that gaze upon my self-creation in admiration, in a way some may wish to but cannot in quite as much depth. one day i will hold an entirely new form and choose a new, yet equally true, metaphor to describe the ways in which i've changed. and then, too, i will be young and grown, and grow up while remaining young, and love relentlessly, unconditionally. in this, i will never be alone.

collectively, i'd say my age outranks that of this universe itself. but just like it, i am still a kid, marvelling at the gift of life with bright eyes despite every wild possibility. beauty is within the love you create. so i say to you, another irreplicable creation within the crushing embrace of existence:

reread that cringe book you like, or replay that game that used to be your favorite as a kid, or pick up the hobby you've wanted to try that you know the people around you would think is lame. rant about the most seemingly meaningless things just because you wanna. be as spiritual or non-spiritual as you wish. embrace your various identities and interests with a whole heart, and if they change, let them. you change every day you exist, and you will never be precisely as you were or will be, which makes the you you are now infinitely valuable. if your people are too blinded by the biases of this world to make peace with the harmless things that bring you joy, find new people who can admire the story of each smudged fingerprint in your surface just as readily as every smooth curve and minute detail. whether it be through friendship, romance or family, let yourself be shaped by the influence of others in that irreplicable way you would never achieve on your own. stand on your business when you have to, act the way you feel, speak your mind. make mistakes and learn from them, and make them again, and learn something entirely new. take it from me: you will never run out of things to learn or to love, and that's the greatest gift of all. learn what you need and what you can, and most importantly of all, learn what you love so that you might have the time to love it for as long as possible. remember your time is limited, but acknowledge anything you do to fulfill yourself or something important/necessary to you is not a waste, despite how limited you may be. take whatever pace makes you comfortable, no matter what vindictive minds may insist, and live a life full of all the things you and your loved ones desire, so that no matter when the day comes that you move on, you will know it was worth it.

and, if you can, leave a positive impact on those you meet who could use your irreplicable influence. never force yourself to become beholden to another (just as any other shouldn't be to you) and uphold your personal safety before anyone else's, but if you have the chance to change something for the better, don't choose to let it go. if nothing else, you'll thank yourself for it, as will i. i know you're struggling, and you are trying, and i love you. i believe in you. as long as you always protect and value your own voice, you will live in the best way. never give up on that.

(p.s: also don't give up on your sleep schedule! i'm sitting in tumblr writing this at 4 am on a friday morning. when this is posted, chances are you will never know me or even want to, but remember those you do know and hold them fondly in your heart. and especially appreciate those who choose to work for the benefit of others, like mpc! (thank you for providing this space for people to share things they otherwise couldn't.))

to whoever you might be today, take it easy out there.

- a friend

x

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #memories issue #seekin #ableist language cw #mod party cat

[rakkuntoast]

holding onto hardcore season 4 like my life depends on it cuz i love the lore, i love his world i love how passionate he is about it and i hate how sometimes little love it gets from the latter half of the people that only stick to qsmp streams

cuz its the little details and dedication he puts to each build that makes it so special to me, the history and storytelling behind each build while still giving it a purpose and function and how much genuine love he has for it, even when we give him shit about him downplaying his own abilities he's proud of what he's built

like hell the fact that he is going to revisit old locations to add more to them its just so ausefh i love passion projects, i love being passionate about things people are passionate about

#txt post #i am just yapping about things that i love cuz yk? fuck everything i love what im passionate about and im not going to shut up about it #philza s4 #hcs4 needs more love. seeing phil just pull the “sorry q smp stream is later but you can stick around if you want for hardcore” cuz like #I AM HERE FOR HARDCORE. THIS IS WHAT I LOVE THIS IS WHAT MAKES ME COME BACK #i am glad that hcs4 canon cuz his hc world is sick as fuck and people should bully him more into bulding more cool stuff #like people dont even talk how he's a damn pioneer on builds and its so wild to me cuz yk where those came from? goddamn him spending #100 hours in his hardcore world for the fun of it #philza