#the shining really does go fucking buck wild like he feels like he's

[stvharrngton]

kinktober: day five

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, spit kink, pussy spanking, fingering/oral (f receiving)

word count: 0.6k

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose @wheel-of-hyperfixation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

You liked it messy.

Liked it dirty and wild, skin always shining with sweat, hair wild and lips red and kiss-bitten. You liked it a little rough, a little obscene.

It didn’t take much to get you hot under the collar, a simple kiss from your boyfriend with a little tongue, a little spit really got you going. You weren’t sure what it was about the fluid that made you feel this way, but fuck, did it get your heart racing and your panties wet.

The way Steve would lick from your neck down over your tits, right down to your pussy drove you crazy, had you gasping for air and tugging on the sheets before Steve had really even started. 

And that’s where you were now, back against the soft sheets of Steve’s bed as he was settled between your legs, his lips on yours. Steve licked into you all pretty, tongue swirling with your own as your saliva mixed with one another’s.

You moaned into the kiss only as Steve pulled away, whispering against your lips, “Open your mouth, pretty girl.”

You did as Steve asked, like you always did, doe eyes blinking up at the boy as you parted your lips. He let a drivel of saliva fall from his puckered lips where you gracefully caught it with your tongue. Steve smirked at you, soon followed by his lips crashing against your own in a hot kiss.

Keening under his touch as Steve ventured south, lips gliding over your exposed skin until they reached the waistband of your underwear. The lace pulled down your legs, thrown aside somewhere you would worry about later, your thighs gladly accepting Steve as you spread them.

A breathy moan escaping your lips as Steve blew on your cunt, the poor thing sopping wet. Your back arched as Steve let his tongue lick all over you, slurping and sucking, not caring if his chin was dripping with his saliva and your juices.

He let a single finger tease your hole, not even pushing past the knuckle. Your wetness leaked down onto the sheets, your skin buzzing and hot with pleasure. Steve added a second finger now, two digits fucking in and out of you, the wet sound echoing throughout the room.

Steve pulled away now, only slightly, his fingers pulled all the way out as he gripped your thighs, holding them apart. You leant up on your elbows to get a better look, your gaze falling on Steve who was just blindly staring at your pussy, all wet and pretty, his eyes dark and hazy.

Before you knew it, the boy was spitting on your cunt, watching as the thick clear liquid trickled down to your hole. He groaned as he watched, eyes fixated between your thighs, his bottom lip coming to sit between the clench of his teeth.

“Fuck,” you whispered. A quiet sound that soon snapped Steve from his daze.

The look on his face soon turned into a smirk, a devilish grin toying with his lips as he knew he could rile you up so easily. Steve licked his lips as his fingers returned to your pussy, not really doing anything besides moving his fingers over your clit in a teasing motion.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” he asked, voice smooth and silky, “Like me getting this little pussy all messy?”

A pretty little whine escaped your lips, a high pitched sound as you bit your lip with a nod. Hips bucking up to meet Steve’s fingers, grinding and moving against his palm trying to urge the ache between your legs.

“Ah, ah,” he teased, his hand slapping against your heat, warning you to stop your desperate attempts, “if you’re a good girl and let me finish, maybe I’ll let you suck on my cock, hm? Sound good, baby?”

“Yes,” you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as Steve resumed the circles on your clit, the puffy little thing throbbing and aching, “please, Steve, pleasepleaseplease.”

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, your begging and pleading always going straight to Steve’s cock, “good girl.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #kinktober2023 #k.fic

[silassinclair]

Hello there! So this is my first time requesting since i just started following you. So let me tell you, your Yandere Wild West Outlaw got me absolutley smitten and obsessed! i love your writing so much!!

Anyway back to the main subject and on with the request.

What about Maddox with an EXTRA Sassy darling. Like, full of and fluent on sarcasm (the kind that makes you go: DAAAAMN). The darlin' has a sharp tongue and retorts for any kind of bad words might be thrown towards her (and maybe, way later in the relationship, towards Maddox too). From really polite f-u's to tge sthraightfoward ones, she can reply and roast anyone.

Oh and a bonus head cannon (a little something that came to mind) after reading about the wedding rings. I can totally imagine the darling going from questioning about where Maddox "buys" all the weird gifts to just becoming immune, later in the relationship. Let's say Maddox comes back (to the temporary) home with a very strange object, like A very expensive porcelain/china vase and the darling just goes: "oh thank you. Please put it on the table. I'll be done with the soup and then take care of it"

Yea anyway i'll stop rambling now.

Sorry for the bad english. It's not my first language and it is past midnight here.

Have a great day/night ✨

We love sassy girlboss Y/n’s here. Thank you for submitting this request anon!! Hope it is to your liking <3

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Sassy Reader

CW// Y/n is a bully, Maddox gets his ego hurt, Maddox gets angry, Maddox is dumb

Masterlist

Maddox immediately knew that you were a spitfire when he first had a conversation with you. You weren’t the typical damsel in distress who when captured by the evil outlaw you’re forced into submission.

Oh no. There’s not a drop of submission in your body.

Maddox thought you would be useful to have around. You’d be his own personal maid! Maybe even like a housewife. But no…

“Clean my laundry if ya’ wanna live to see anotha’ day.”

“Alright alright, calm your tits. What should I clean first? The shirt with sweat marinated into the fabric or the undies with shit stains?”

“THERE AIN’T ANY SHIT ON MY UNDIES MISSY! IT’S DIRT!”

You’re a total pain in the ass. Whenever he tried to act cool or intimidating you’d immediately shoot it down with your words.

He hates it when you ruin his moment in front of other people.

He got really pissed after you made a jab at him in the middle of a duel.

“It’s just you an’ me boy. But we both know who’ll be standin’ by the end of this.”

“Hopefully it isn’t you.”

“SHUT UP Y/N! GET YOUR TUSH BACK INSIDE, I’M TRYNA’ HAVE A DUEL!”

Punishes you by tying you up and leaving you outside for the night.

He ignores your complaints about coyotes or rattlesnakes. He needs you to shut your mouth and give him some peace.

After that night of punishment though he noticed how you wouldn’t really talk to him often.

“Go shine my boots. And I don’t wanna hear a single complaint outta ya’.”

“Okay.”

“…”

Okaay so he fucked up.

The days drag on so slow without your quips and jabs! He never realized how funny the things you said are now that you’re gone.

Well you’re not gone, just more closed off now. But you may as well be gone. This isn’t like you at all to be so quiet and reclusive!

Maybe he was too rough in you? He did kill your Father and force you to be his housewife maid.

So doing what he does worst, he apologizes.

“Hey, ‘bout that one time I left ya’ outside. I realize that was silly of me cus ya’ coulda gotten eaten. So that was my bad.”

“So you’re sorry?”

“Yeah.”

He’s brushing Jasper’s fur, telling the horse how good he is. Cleaning Jasper is the only chore Maddox likes to do himself.

You’re sitting on a tree stump watching the man talk to his horse.

“You know Jasper’s a horse right?”

“Oh really? I thought he was a dog.”

The small smirk on your face after his little quip made Maddox feel like a million bucks.

That’s when he learned that he likes seeing you happy.

After the “Marriage”: (Read about it Here)

“Uhm what’s all this?” You ask your unofficial husband.

“This-”

He puts a brown sack down on the table. The sound of the contents inside clang together as he dumps it all out. A dozen chipped fine china plates come out.

“Is how we make our house a home sweetness. I hear housewives go crazy over fancy dishes n’ shit.”

Maddox stands there with a proud grin underneath his masked face. (He still hasn’t showed you his face yet btw.) He was like a dog showing his owner how good he is at retrieving sticks when playing fetch.

You look at him with an unimpressed quirk of your brow. “And where did you happen to come across such fine china may I ask?”

He shrugs and comes around the table to wrap his arms around you from behind.

“A buddy gave em to me.” His deep voice reverberates in your ear.

“Did you hold your so called buddy at gunpoint?”

“Would you be mad if I said yes?”

You groan and shakes your head back and forth. “Maddox you know you can’t just go around taking people’s stuff! Now the sheriff was probably alerted and is looking for you now. And why did you steal a bunch of plates!? Jasper can’t carry all this shit! We should only have what is necessary for survival you brute. Are you even listening to me!?”

But he only looks at you with lovesick eyes as you complain about how stupid he is.

“Princess did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you’re mad at me?” His hands go lower down your waist.

Rolling your eyes you smack his hands and leave his embrace, leaving him standing by himself like a kicked puppy.

“I have a meal to make so set the table with those plates you got. And no more stealing people’s things!”

“Yes ma’am.”

I appreciate all the requests that come in!! But I just want to remind all of you about my rules and that I do NOT write Y/n as a specific race. My writing is for everybody to enjoy!! She’s race ambiguous. Many people request that I write a Black Y/n but I’m not black so I won’t be doing that. If I write for a specific race then I feel like I’d just be stereotyping what black people are supposed to act like. So please don’t ask me to write for a Y/n that is a specific race. Thank you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #obsession #western #cowboy #maddox graves

[russilton]

I don’t really know what people is on when they first shit talk Mercedes, Lewis, George and the team and then proceed to say “X driver to Mercedes in 2024 when Lewis leaves”! Dudes, Mercedes is incredibly selective on their drivers, You have not only to bust your ass to get a chance, but also have certain talents and qualities required. There’s a reason why they’ve had 5:6 drivers in there since their creation as a team. Now my rant is done, I’ll go lay down and drown in britcedes feels, goodbye

Yeah I have a lot of thoughts on this honestly. Some nice and some not so nice lmao but all agreeing with you.

Long ramble under the cut bc I guess I wanted to get some stuff out of my brain and I can just refer back to this later if asked again lol.

And let me say first of all that look, I get it, I would bend over backwards and lie to myself and god when it comes to my favourite drivers. Part of me deeply and truly believes George and Lewis could walk into any other car in the grid if they asked, I really do. I don’t think they’d want to, but if they did, they could. Because we are ALL delusional about our faves. Sometimes it’s what makes this site so fun, we’re all a little stupid for these dudes.

But I have a very salty view of people who people who think certain drivers could just walk into Merc without a Nico level fall out, or a Lewis level of skill in the sport*. ESPECIALLY when it comes to “problematic” drivers like Lando, Max, Carlos, etc.

* more on that one in a sec, spoiler alert: they’ve already got that, his name is George.

I think what really grinds my gears about it (and I mean the people who SERIOUSLY think their driver has a shot at Merc, not people having fun) is it comes down to three tracks of thought; people who think Lewis is genuinely about to retire, people who seem to forget George exists, and people who seem to profoundly misunderstand how Merc work as an organisation.

The first one is easy to be annoyed at and dismiss, Lewis has made it clear over and over he’s not going anywhere. I’m rankled by people who think he’s suddenly going to retire bc of his age. Alonso is still here and he’s fuelled by salt rather than skill, you think Lewis is gonna go just bc he’s 38? He’s insane, and there is nothing he is more buck wild about than F1. I also don’t like thinking about Lewis retiring. Sue me.

The second I get but hate a lot. I’m a George fan, I am biased but George is ignored by a lot of people; and the narratives about him being PR63, even by some Lewis fans, are flimsy and shitty. He’s got so much heart in his stick thin frame that it flows out his ears. You look at him, past the surface for a couple seconds, and god you can see it shine like a beacon. He doesn’t answer Lewis and himself when he’s asked for the perfect driver line up because of PR, but because he fucking adores Lewis. He adores the team. He goofs around with them, spends time with them, he’s embedded with the engineers and mechanics. He seems boring off track because he’s private, but he has been going to dinners with them and travelling with them for years, he’s boring because he’s an old soul who puts focus on his family and his mental health. He does try to be funny online and people scoff at him. He posts shirtless pictures and he’s teased for it. Like what do you want from the guy; if he’s genuine he’s cringe and if he’s reserved he’s PR boring. Fuck that, he makes Lewis smile and that’s enough for me.

But then It’s because of his less than popular off track self that people look past him on track, and you shouldn’t because this man is insane. This is what I was talking about earlier when I said Merc have got their Lewis 2.0. George is him. He drives like Lewis, he’s learning to approach the garage like Lewis, he knows how to restrain himself to the media just like Lewis. Talk less, smile more, because they want to bait you more than anyone, they’re waiting for you to slip. Don’t give it to them and then unleash a terror that leaves other drivers blinking in shock on track. Singapore this year SHOULDN’T override Austria, when George drove from the back in a garbage car to finish 4th. He copied Lewis in Spain like a text book because that’s the kind of driver George is. He knows how to manage his tires because Lewis taught him. He says over and over again how important he finds it to learn from Lewis because Lewis is his standard of greatness. Merc have trained him like this, because together he and Lewis mesh well. They both know where to put their cars to make overtakes others wouldn’t, they drive like their cars are an extension of their body. Nothing bothers me more than people who set team line ups at Merc without Lewis or George, because it often assumes Lewis would retire and Merc would just… throw George out?

George Russell is grit, spirit, positivity and determination, and I feel like the people who don’t see him as an insanely impressive generational talent like Charles or Max are choosing not to look, or were blinded by how trash Williams was. I’d you don’t judge Mick on where haas dragged him down; you can’t judge George.

(Yet another place george is like Lewis, is he let the hard times humble him and make him better. He will never, ever have to struggle the same way Lewis did and he’s been afforded privileges that Lewis won’t, he himself will tell you that. But they were both boys from families without much money who’s parents struggled to let them follow their dreams. Why do you think Lewis likes him so much? He’s said it himself, he sees the same instinct he had, in George)

And finally the third thing I’ve probably spoken on most: some people really only see Merc as a fast car and not as a team. Which I guess is fair if you aren’t a massive fan of either of the boys. You think I’m invested in how mclaren or RB or Ferrari behave as organisations outside of drama? Of course I’m not. I barely even cared about Williams outside of GR and NL. But Merc is another breed of team honestly. Not to suck corporate dick bc you know I hate it but there’s a reason they aren’t really ever involved in silly season. Why them CHOOSING to hire George was monumental. They are unlike anyone else in how they cultured George. He’s been in the Merc garage on race weekends since 2016. They watched and carefully primed him for it, they made him work so hard for every step. I’m not sure they would have ever got rid of Nico and hired Val if he hadn’t chose to leave. Do you know how resistant they were to put anyone other than George in their car? They were worrying about who would take Lewis’ seat in Sakhir if they couldn’t get him. Their reserve driver, stoff, WAS RIGHT THERE.

If George hadn’t gone above and beyond to prove himself ready for Merc, they would have stuck with Valtteri. Merc play it safe and close to the chest far more than they’ll admit, I think it’s why our number one issue with races this year has been emergency strat choices. We so often play it safe and panic when pushed. And that’s why I end up laughing at some driver move theories bc it’s like really? You think, safe playing, elitist weirdos Merc are gonna do that??

The only driver on the 22/23 grid I genuinely, truly think Merc would consider putting in their car if LH decided to split second retire, or George, idk, stabbed Toto in the leg, is Esteban Ocon or MAYBE they’d go back to VB if VaL would be willing to accept the pressure of the seat again. They like Ocon, he has history with the team, he’s got some real promise in his development, and he’s got a lil bastard in him they like their drivers to have. But that would ONLY happen if they had 0 prep time and had to pick another grid driver. Merc have their dream team right now.

#asks #anonymous #wank/rants #team Merc #mark’s driver meta #mark talks britcedes

[silentxxsoul]

The ‘I’ve got nothing witty here the Red Sox suck and the only joy I have is this silly little gay firefighter show’

No lie the Red Sox stink so bad yall. Like 9 blown saves level of suck so I’m all in on bad-dude-Jonah and Hen-and-Chim-P.I.'s

I was gonna say something here about cute lil baby jonah but jfc that dude is drawing people getting beheaded as a kid. I feel like that's like, a classic sign of a kid who's gonna get stabby later in life

More Bobby and May content ♥ it's sad its for this, but I love them

But also, where is Harry? Like the whole fam minus him is there ??

Oh my god Hen you did not rummage through a dead woman's medicine cabinet at her fucking funeral

BUCK PLAYING WITH A DINO AND IT BEING WHILE TALKING TO EDDIE IS GIVING ME LIFE

(hella sad that it wasn't a Buck-Chris convo but I mean it's funny)

Buck serving looks at his husband Eddie

The fact that Eddie knows how many stars and how far the hotel is lmao

Wait, so no Buck-Chris content? Boo fox tomato tomato

Hen and Chim breaking into Bobby's office lmao no Chim can't be cool

Yall are terrible liars lmao Ravi and Lucy saw right through them

Ravi speaking truth, as he does

(its the same energy)

♥♥♥DIAZ FAMILY CONTENT DIAZ FAMILY CONTENT DIAZ FAMILY CONTENT DIAZ FAMILY CONTENT DIAZ FAMILY CONTENT♥♥♥

"What's wrong?" ... "Your mother." yalllllll lmao

Them getting excited that Abuela got to make the tamales lmao

I can feel the fucking tension in that room, good loooord

gimme more

Yes Hen, you are correct they escalate!

10/10 did no foresee them going to Taylor but ok

She's going to take their hunch and run wild with it, isn't shee?

"off the record" welp, I know what's going to spawn the moral conflict or whatever they called it

So Eddie is the oldest? Or at the very least the middle child, both track honestly

Eddie's been waiting his whole life for this and I for one am living for it

GO EDDIE GO

Oh shit, did not see that coming or playing out that way. Eddie reading him from the jump, but also look at our bby jumping into action without a thought

"off the record" my ASSSSSSSS

Buck you know she can't actually keep that promise, I mean we all know it

This really is going to come full circle from Dosed except this time there's no lawyers to stop her. Instead she's going to break a promise, break journalistic integrity, and put people in harms way all for the sake of "the truth".

I'm so fucking glad Eddie and his dad are airing his past and his childhood y'all don't even knowwwww

CHIMNEY NOOOOO I DIDN'T EVEN CONSIDER THAT OH SHIT PLS BE OUT WITH MADDIE AND JEE YUN

I PREPARED MYSELF BUT I DIDN'T REALLY PREPARE MYSELF HOLY CHRIST

I KNOW SHE LIVES CAUSE VOW RENEWAL BUT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I'm a freaking nervous wreck ohmigod Bryce Durfree is killing this creepy persona and ahhhhh

They're really going hard on this episode and I fucking love it

HOLY SHIT CHIMNEY WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD

THE DIRECTING THE ACTING THE STORY LINE

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I JUST REALIZED WE DONT KNOW THAT CHIMNEY IS AT THE VOW RENEWALS

I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW IF THEY'D UNALIVE HIM OR NOT BUT IM TERRIFIED

CHIMNEY'S HAND--THE HAND CHIM PLS KNOCK A BITCH OUT PLS

I'm not going to survive this episode holy fuck my life this is insane wtf is the crack fic shit I love it so much

like this isn't 911 at this point, right? This is just an acting exercise to let Kenny and Aisha shine bc they fucking knocked it out of the park omgggg

Honestly this episode can be summed up in two words: Holy Fuck

They're going to leave off with Taylor as a cliffy huh

Bobby ohmigod yessssss beat his ass! I fucking love protective Bobby

Uncle Buck moments getting overshadowed by Taylor is a hate crime

Chimney being sad seeing them reunite and I know he's wishing Maddie were there but I feel it in my bones she's gonna show up

(FOX IF SHE DOESN'T I WILL RIOT)

FUCK IT I'M RIOTING BITCHES

What do I have to do to get some Madney content around here?!!

Aisha and Kenny are killing me tonight

IDK how to function after this episode and I sure as shit don't know how I'll function after next week

#911 fox spoilers #911 fox #im gonna need jonah to revive me after this ep jfc #this is so intense and i love it

[shinegone]

     in  his  early  teens,  dan  develops  the  habit  of  not  looking  people  in  the  eyes,  or  even  their  faces.  with  the  shining’s  intensity  reaching  near  its  peak  at  those  ages,  people’s  eyes,  and  the  space  just  above  thier  heads  become  little  less  than  gaping  windows  in  which  daniel’s  able  to  see  every  fleeting  thought,  image,  and  wish.  even  though  not  looking  doesn’t  completely  solve  his  problem  it  does  make  it  a  LITTLE  easier.

#where is my mind : headcanon #mark me expanding on his teen years uwu i am just so sad for he #the shining really does go fucking buck wild like he feels like he's #going??? mad and it I AM SAD OK leme #and this is only ATTEMPT ONE at coping #the next attempt is ... uh drinking at the age of 14 pals

[sugar-petals]

🌹 Sub!SuperM 18+ HC: Riding Their Faces

↳ NOTE. These guys... I swear. Bringing some heat to the dash right here. Enjoy the SuperMadness 👀

word count. 3.7k | bullet points | ot7

WARNINGS. ⚠️  all explicit, cum play, latex, hair & sweat kink, bondage, spit, brat taming, toys, breath play, ass fixation going strong, dominant reader, femdom, degradation, hardcore, veins kink, graphic language, strap-ons, crying kink, clothed sex, some crack

⌜ 💋  byun baekhyun ⌟

▸ strength: energy

not for the faint of heart. baekhyun thoroughly enjoys you giving it to him roughly; it’s the leader being led, how sexy is that

i spy with my femdom eye, baekhyun likes the bossy dommes who bring him to his knees — quite literally.

case in point: hates seeing you hold back. tells you to just bounce on him how you want it. no fumbling around, it’s gotta be hot and proper.

whatever you’re insecure about he hasn’t even noticed. the more confidently you’re taking your designated seat, the better. this shit’s gotta make him all loud and squeaky, baekhyun can’t get enough of your wild and demanding side. “don’t you dare move your hands!” — he’s already hooked.

yep, he’s part of the feral squad. and louder than the bass in jopping for that matter

small as hell face but the jaw is sharp, you can literally feel it, he fits between your legs so well

endless breath. put your pussy all over that nose, grind on it, cum all over him. society will thank you for suffocating a millionaire

like seriously the breath play is off the charts. if he’s into asphyxiation you’d not be surprised

meanwile baek’s naughty hips keep on bucking, like hello there, giving you a cheeky 69 invitation

such a cocky little shit, whiny byun all the way from those ruined orgasms he’ll be getting cuz you might just touch him with two fingers at best, you know how to keep him on his toes

swallows everything he’s like whatever, almost chokes because he’s so messy and greedy to taste you. damn baekhyun

does a “mmhhhnnn...!” sound all the time, this guy has pussy all over his face and is still more vocal than you no matter what you do

eats ass, all day if he can, knows the most shocking techniques, wants to get crushed by booty he’ll end up admitting it. no matter how big or small yours is. because remember, that face is small, everything is big to him

the type to cum on his stomach way before you do. groans a lot, then goes on even more intensely, how the hell did he just leak out five ounces of semen and still manage a whole tongue workout

slobbery and all over the place, those are tongue movements you can’t even think of in your wildest dreams

baekhyun is never content just making you cum once or just really lowkey, much less hearing you being silent. he’s a moodmaker, he naturally wants to hear you, and see you twitch like the world ends for goodness sake

brattiest tongue ever, always pulls out the taunting puppy licks, tries to grope you all the time, he’ll get a rough spanking later believe me

also gets his payback from you being crazy wet, as beautiful and cute his face might be it’s gonna end up damn ruined

not gonna lie his voice acrobatics will turn you into a waterfall that’s coming down on him

you can punish him for teasing by going raw with your hips, mochi is in wonderland, seeing stars. put his wrists in a spreader bar and go off is what i’m saying, YOLO

since baekhyun annoys the members by being so hyper in the evening, they appreciate you knocking him out for sleep. and indeed baekhyun dozes like a baby, probably using your ass as a pillow or something

you’ve drained the shit out of him and um watered the flower that is his face, so

another cupcake down, mission success, baekhyun certainly had his fill not to mention lucky you having to deal with his wildly talented mouth ahem, moral of the story annihilate him with your ass

⌜ 💋  lee taemin ⌟

▸ strength: steaminess

you will come (heh) to discover that none of his lyrics were a lie

yeah he’s busy hot boy shit for his gal

taemin has an all-soft and plush tongue that’s super pinkish. it literally feels so good, how to ever get enough of it holy shit

it also happens to be very long so buckle up, he wants to be deep inside of you, serve and please you

probably the most slow and agile movement in the group, tantalizing is the right word for sure

prefers kissing and sucking over just licking because he’s sappy, good on him and good on you those lips are heaven and need to be used by all means

once you go on the pill, taemin will eat his own creampies straight out of you, maybe even two at once, it’s taemin c’mon he’s above-average horny lord knows how much sperm he’s hoarding

loves drowning it seems

raunchy stuff aside, he always dresses up nicely or wears the fluffy sweaters you like the most on him. what an exclusive ride, the scent of the clothing turns you on even more he’s pulling all the registers taemin is so docile and giggly

most sensual style in the group, will edge and give you goosebumps first before the main course even remotely goes down, taemin thinks in several stages hot damn he calculated this 

his face heats up so much it’s crazy, then again kkoongie capitalizes on all the warmth from the radiator so you might as well be taemin’s personal heating alright. it’s fun seeing him sweat like mad, see his neck veins bulge... ugh 

is gonna be a provocateur and try to nibble on your folds, man he just wants to get slapped around you can see right through this brat’s rowdy plan

might even want his ass played with while you ride his face so prepare for some intense contortions, fingering, butt plugs, prostate massage, the whole array, gladly taemin is flexible

always pulls it off hands-free because he’s a pro and well yeah he’s always tied up how um totally surprising

and any challenge he will meet that i guarantee you

he has immediately apparent shinee concert stamina, longevity like his career, taemin can lend his face to your purposes for the whole night he doesn’t care if he needs to chuck it in the freezer afterwards

bonus: if taemin doesn’t at some point wear one of his glittery masks for sexy time, somebody is probably impersonating him and it’s not the real lee taemin i’m afraid

so many orgasms you’ll stop counting, one blends into the other, even if you’re not moving much, how does he do it

that being said gee can we just appreciate how beautiful his face is, everything about him, it’s gonna be so sexy and soft to kiss him to sleep oh my god

⌜ 💋  kim jongin ⌟

▸ strength: escalating

just how industrious is he? dammit kai is the rent due or something, this shit is not a comeback stage cool down

jongin is needy as fuck, he’s desperate to taste you especially in the morning when his lips are all plump

since then he’s skipped his skin care routine you do the bulk of the moisturizing you see

jokes aside get ready for whimpery kai thrusting his face right into you because he can, should you need something to hold onto, his thighs are literally right there

constant high-pitched moans, some during quick pauses, others stifled, kai are you okay he’s really going all out 

so thirsty

if you don’t put a harness on him for this you’re missing out, also you need something to hold this wild slutty motherfucker in place

rock-hard throughout, harder than a goddamn superm choreography

also: sturdy chin that can take a lot, it’s made to be sat on

does a lot of the work, very active, main dancer vibes you know, you can be lazy and just enjoy

most continuous style in the group, gradually getting more and more passionate and nervous — the second you thought it gets boring he goes off, have fun losing your mind and seeing him basically K.O. himself

if he wants to make you cum, rapid tongue jabs deep into your clit, and his hard breath against it, no fair play in here

absolutely has a thing for your shaking thighs, like what the hell he’s blowing a huge load the more you tremble, and he’s goddamn crying from pleasure every time woah

those big ole lips are an absolute treat, yeah i’ll say it again his face is meant for this

wants to be called all kinds of names wow jongin, it just spurs him more

kai. is. so. good. 

you can most definitely film your own POV cam, jongin can put on one hell of a show. just this time it’s not his eyes flirting with the camera, it’s his tongue getting a nice rough treatment oh yum

don’t get me wrong he can deliver a romantic version of this, but kai just likes you being tough on his face he can’t deny it

uses his hands so you can ride him even harder, all his teddy bears will be falling off the bed like dominoes

might one day ascend to heaven while giving head, wouldn’t regret it

can do it until complete exhaustion you guys just pass out

being such an oral workaholic do i sense a masochist streak in him there? 

fucking typical capricorn

⌜ 💋  wong yukhei ⌟

▸ strength: appetite

first off yukhei is hilarious

it’s called eating out and that’s exactly what he does duh, he’s not nicknamed foodcas for no reason — the restaurant is open my dear, and he just served himself five courses (you)

gets super sweaty, forehead and down the neck, a 6′0 glazed bun can you imagine

giggles a lot, makes the atmosphere relaxed, loves banter before and after, an allround sweet experience

though beware, this guy is hungry. most prone to open his mouth super wide he wants to eat all of you at once

don’t tell kun how nasty he is, much less leader baekhyun, promise me that

and especially nosy kai should not hear about what sexy shit yukhei is doing in his freetime unless you want to trigger a war 

that being said the wayv dorm is still the safest place to sit on his face, so. it’s a lawless land there, nobody gives a fuck anymore at this point. yangyang would not even blink if ten murdered someone in cold blood on the balcony, that’s how the atmosphere there can be best described

lucas being a far more harmless himbo still ironically fits into the environment being so sexually insatiable, just how often are you going to fuck? it’s only natural to lose the overview

he loudly pouts and complains when it ends, wants to go on and on, you need a lotta stamina to get with this guy this is not a warning it’s a fact — yukhei really wants to tire himself out and give everything

if you lower your thighs just a little you can feel his dangly earrings. kinda sexy but also a safety concern i know i know, he’s not gonna wear them next time 

noisy as heck, wants to do well, always goes the extra mile to be sure you are all happy and satisfied with today’s dining

his tongue is... big...

we’re not gonna talk about that giant bulge either, such a huge tent in those pants it’s a whole camping ground. anyway

what we’ll talk about. his super soft blonde hair, we’re talking salon quality soft, that’s amazing to feel against your legs, it’s great to pull as well, or to twirl really playfully

though there’s not much playful going down when the initial inhibition drops

he’s not made of glass you can really get those hips going

sliding down his nose when you’re all wet... damn good stuff.

lucas is the kinda guy that has you grunting and gritting he loves your reactions, and how aggressive you can get. usually he’s the reaction king but like this? he can get used to it.

totally into having that kinda frog perspective it’s a whole new thing, he’s such a giant now he’s below you, the sight is just superb to him

less likely to have toys involved, but rather a bunch of rope for his chest, his arms, his long ass legs. yukhei is a bondage insider tip y’all

stable as a block of metal. if you go a little too wild on baekhyun he’s probably gonna break his mochi neck but lucas is a different calibre, this mf is made of giant muscles galore, i can only say one thing: finish him

⌜ 💋  mark lee ⌟

▸ strength: speed

talks a lot, even occasionally curses — instantly apologizing, but you curse right back, so this becomes the cussing olympics at some point, taeyong would bury his face in the ground all his parenting efforts have gone to waste

mark basically chokes himself

he can’t control his spit by all means jesus... in his own words: must be the drip then

next to taemin and baekhyun here we have the third drowning victim, mark is in serious need of multiple tissues or towels afterwards but that’s exactly what he likes

mark’s slutty side is not to be underestimated i’m warning you

that’s a healthy young man right here

loves to do quickies to get you off during daytime, if you’re horny just tell him and he’ll find a quiet spot, might do it on his knees rather than you riding him sometimes for practical reasons 

all options open, mark is flexible af. if someone can promote with nct dream and superm at the same time that’s the result

so yeah you’ll experiment with positions and even outfits, what’s the most comfortable to wear? 

few people even remotely think about this. mark himself stays in his signature sweater but the glasses come off, you know very well he’s a nerd without them he has nothing to prove lmao!

the clothes will be cozy but don’t let that fool you yet alright

this guy has watched too much porn to just keep it light and cute

don’t get me wrong you can baby him ad nauseam for the more gentle femdom moods

but at the end of the day mark loves some intense shit, he likes feisty girls who aren’t coy and subby, the more perverted you are the better, in fact he enjoys being shocked with brazen attitude and getting orders on what to do.

loves it when you to take it all out on him, rough is good. mark lee’s face is the rodeo range of super m alright, just don’t break his glorious jaw or anything, he still needs it okay

but yeah mark’s face is tempting to ride hard not gonna lie

his tongue can go so fast it’s at the speed of sound, no, the speed of fucking light. mark goes crazy on your clit, wait a few seconds, boom five orgasms rain down on you. 

it’s like an anime swordsman just lifting the sword hilt, walking off calmly, and one minute later things are in shambles like how? mark’s sword tech is just epic like that

he’s a leo what did we expect, show-off

in the meantime, RIP to mark lee’s pants. they’ll be soaked with cum, gonna be a bitch to hide your clothes from taeyong who’s always eager to wash everything by himself

that aside, mark really enjoys the position, he doesn’t need much else to be honest, he goes “oh my god oh shit” enough for you to know

thank god he’s a rapper, otherwise his dang technique would be dangerous, he doesn’t breathe for half a minute or so

enjoys you really doing shallow thrusts, super fast and sloppy, loves how much you enjoy it

needless to say: breaks a guinness world record for most licks per second, it’s that mark lee flow

long story short his face is your favorite spot he can prepare for a daily session

all that practice on water melons paid off good job markly

⌜ 💋  ten lee ⌟

▸ strength: allround skill

you know a pro by how he’s offering you a tall glass of water beforehand

and by the way he’s chugging one himself

champion, a keeper

you’re guaranteed to love it, ten is amazing

takes his time, gets to know your every inch, figures out your soft spots in a matter of minutes to seconds

everything for his sexy mama, service sub right here

take him on a leash, grind on his lips, make him kiss your clit, he’ll respond by circling his tongue around obediently

chittaphon might be a little fidgety at the beginning, but the atmosphere is not as tense anymore after doing it two or three times. 

ten is actually quite good cracking lighthearted jokes and showing his more extroverted side, he always gets like that with a partner. 

you have an easy time with build-up conversations and communicating in general, same with aftercare pillow talk

that being said the degree of professionalism this guy is heading for needs a lot of talk in the first place. 

ten likes doing advanced things that aren’t just intuitively understood, you need to exchange yourself a lot

through trial and error you figure out how to incorporate sex toys into the little routine you have going on

the pleasure will be so intense you’ll never want anything else fuck

ten is also down for a lot of moving around, some athletic shit

you’ll go from bouncing on his dick to smothering his face back and forth pretty much, let’s see how fast you’re gonna bust a huge nut like that my bet is five minutes

those like “oh... ah—” moans are just angelic

since he focuses so much on your erogenous zones and always keeps his hands involved, ten is always guaranteed to have you breaking a major sweat

ten does not like to eat any fruits, they say. well that’s true, because he’s too busy eating you that is. boy can basically retire from citizenhood, he’s that busy between your legs. 

enough fruit juice for an entire week impending, don’t worry about his nutrients, this is also a form of diet.

uses his chin, his cheeks, the nose especially, the damn nose it’s perfectly shaped

wants you to really ride him hard, and fast, no holds barred at all, going so feral he’ll be squeezing his eyes shut

sometimes his hair gets in the way, it’s just so damn long. the result: hair ties for face-sitting, always on his wrist

among all members, buries his face the deepest, turns him on so much

always makes sure you’re both washed up, no impromptu sessions. ten is a hygiene priest and he’s right

the mattress is kinda bouncy and he always uses his favorite soft pillow under his head so you can definitely take mister ten lee to pound town like work your hips give it to him

in case he survives i send my congrats, you got yourself the right guy, terrific choice queen

⌜ 💋  lee taeyong ⌟

▸ strength: ideas

how much more religiously can he eat you out, he treats this like the best reward he can get

as you can probably tell by now, all the lee surname members are definitely a certain brand and clan of highly distinguished pussy eaters like, these guys are a fucking gang like... well taeyong is no different

reckless abandon oral, eats you like it’s the last day, even death fears lee taeyong when he’s in giving head mode

you might be showering together beforehand and be all shy and kissy like it’s puppy love. but that is all for naught when the tongue of god is unleashed and taeyong gets himself as messed up as he can

yeah i like the thought of god being incarnated as kinky taeyong begging to have his mouth spit and cummed in it just makes sense

very deep mumbles, very hard breathing, those veiny hands on your waist, he wants to make you feel good so bad, fuck he’s so sexy

intense facial expressions, need i say more

also um... he likes to be... threatened. he’s the student you’re the teacher, strict as hell surveying his every move, the more you yell at him the harder he gets, jesus christ he has a thing for you acting mad and shit

taeyong doesn’t even need you to pull off your underwear, he’s gone get through any type of fabric with that leaking mouth

let’s just say he likes to experiment with innovative techniques... anyway, taeyong is a nasty fucking freak, he’s a grade A hoe, you never know what to expect

one time he just licks like a shy doe, the next second slurping explosion 5000

imagine whipping his thighs with a riding crop while sitting right on that ultra gorgeous elven prince face like

taeyong is almost always getting super emotional. he sheds even more tears than kai, like at some point you’ll develop a crying kink because of him SOS

nervous as hell, shaky hands. that can easily be fixed sir let’s tie em up

has you moaning nonstop, he’s so engaged and so dead-on with his movements. don’t be surprised if this damned man has your eyes almost falling out

beware, this guy is into full-on sensual deprivation as well. blindfolds are only the start. 

you might end up with a whole lotta black latex involved, who knows, a whole gimp on him he’s down for that, he learned from ten what it is blame chittaphon’s vast kinky knowledge

even better: while you’re grinding on him, taeyong likes you pumping his cock with a fleshlight with zero mercy until he yelps in tiny oops

hell he might ask you to roughly fuck his face with a strap and then ride it, the mister likes double treats huh

then again: wants it to be degrading and dirty and intense on some days, and really wholesome and romantic on others

especially aftercare will be sweet and dulcet, you take care of him, pepper him with kisses for being such a dutiful boy.

looks pretty no matter what. maybe he’s born with it maybe it’s tyongbelline. yeah just how handsome is that face and hair like... t’yongreal paris in full splendor

long story short he’s an oral deity. i rest my case howdy and goodbye see you next time aye

superm masterlist

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

#super m #super m smut #superm smut #superm x reader #superm hc #super m headcanon #superm scenario #superm reaction #taemin smut #baekhyun smut #kai smut #mark lee smut #ten smut #taeyong smut #lucas smut #taemin x reader #baekhyun x reader #ten x reader #taeyong x reader #lucas x reader #kai x reader #mark lee x reader #minors dni #ten hc #taemin hc #kai hc #baekhyun hc #lucas hc #mark lee hc #taeyong hc

[cognitos-handbook]

Do u have any hc’s for Andre? It doesn’t matter what anything works lol <3 and also who’s ur fav and least fav Inside Job character?

Okay, gonna answer the question first bc it’ll be a little shorter -

Picking a favorite is honestly really hard for me! I adore all of them wayyyy too much for my own good lmao, but I suppose lately been vibin a lot with Andre actually <3

Least favorite is Rand fucking Ridley, no doubt. They did way too well with his character and he reminds me way too much of some of my own family LMAO

(Seriously though, his character design is fantastic. Really good rep of an abusive parent and relationship and MAN do I hate him LOL)

Anyways, onto the headcanons!

Andre is such a giggly ass person and I absolutely fucking adore it

Mans is so easily entertained, too; whether he's high, drunk or otherwise lmao (literally was having the time of his life shining a flashlight in his own eyes so i mean LMFAO)

I feel like he's a huge listener?? At least more than people may originally realize or assume

Especially if he likes you, and you're really into whatever it is you're going on about

He eats that shit up; listening with a big grin on his face the entire time and asks engaging questions for whatever he can comprehend lol

He's a pretty passionate guy himself, and if you let him go off about something? He absolutely fuckin goes off, there's no stopping him now

This is smth I've joked about with friends before but apPARENTLY THIS MAN DOES NOT SKIP LEG DAY LMAOOO

In the fucking clone episode, when they're enacting their big ass plan?? He's literally at fucking like 85 degrees on that fucking wall holding that table there for Glenn

What the fuck LOL

Also he probably eats just like… so much? Raging munchies constantly and just a high metabolism in general, so he fuckin feasts

And he cannot cook worth shit dude; maybe if he's lucky he can make himself some insta-ramen and he can microwave shit, but other than that? Hell nah

And he doesn't at all have the patience to learn LOL

(Please cook smth for him sometime! He'd be eternally grateful and down it all in like.. seconds)

He avoids his work a lot but when he actually does smth, he's actually really fucking efficient

He just has to be allowed to do things his way, which may be a bit… unorthodox at times, but that's okay

Stating the obvious, but he's a great guy to smoke with for sure; knows what he's doing and is down for pretty much anything

You wanna chill? Fuck yeah, lets order some takeout and watch shitty movies together or smth

Wanna go buck wild? Absolutely batshit? Cause chaos? Well you don't even need to ask, he's already pulling you out the door with a big ass grin and plenty of excited giggling

And if you don't want to/cant do anything of that sort? He's honestly super chill with that too, don't worry

Not like he's gonna force it down your throat, besides, that shits awful for you anyways

He would know lmao

Another joke among friends, but he definitely develops an attraction to someone pretty fuckin easily LOL

Just say ur interested in him and he's 👀 all over that

Developing genuine feelings may be another story entirely though

Gotta love this goofy ass doctor man <33 He's a fuckin blast <3

(And don't worry, already have plenty more requests line up for him for later, so more to come ;p)

#ask #headcanons #inside job #inside job x reader #dr andre lee #dr andree lee x reader #hes way too fun im love him #give my boy more screen time dammit #<3

[prettybuckybaby]

zero to sixty, in three-point-five

read on ao3 here

18+

“Wanna…wanna f-fuck you,” Steve mumbles into Bucky’s chest one evening. They’re basking in the post-coital bliss, tucked beneath the blankets, Steve’s damp hair tickling where his head rests on Bucky’s chest, muscular but impossibly soft.

“Yeah?” Bucky chuckles, bringing his metal hand up to thread through Steve’s hair. “You gon’ tell me about it? How you’re gonna fuck me?”

“Mmh,” Steve shifts slightly, nuzzling further into the broad expanse of Bucky’s torso. “Wanna…make you feel good,”

“Yeah? You wanna make Daddy feel good? Treat Daddy right?”

“Mmh,”

“Wanna use your body to make me feel good? Yeah?” Bucky snickers as he flips them over so he’s hovering over Steve’s body, crotches lined up and grinding against each other softly as Bucky gently rocks both of their bodies. “Gonna use your little clit to make me come? Make me come so hard and then use my body to make you come inside Daddy?”

“Nuh…no,” Steve whimpers, shaking his head. “Just…make you feel good,”

“Awe,” Bucky coos, ruffling Steve’s hair. He laughs at the way Steve scrunches his nose up. “Not even bothered about coming, Stevie? Just wanna keep going until your daddy has his fill?”

“Uh huh,” Steve nods, but he squeezes his eyes shut and covers as much of his red face as he can in the crook of his elbow. “Like…like a toy to make…make Daddy feel good,”

“Hmm,” Bucky presses a grin into Steve’s cheek, rolling his hips a little faster. “And good little toys don’t need to come, do they? Good little toys don’t need to be distracted by something as silly as an orgasm, right, sweetheart?”

“D-don’t need to come, just…just Daddy. Need Daddy’s come, please,”

“Hmm,” Bucky purrs into Steve’s neck. “You’d be such a good toy for Daddy, doll face.”

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

They don’t talk about it in bed the next morning like Steve thinks they would. He wakes up to the smell of pancakes drifting through the house, the sound of Bucky humming along to the music that is playing, the music that Peter introduced them too that Steve cannot stand but Buck seems to have taken a shine to. He groans as he rolls out of his bed, picking up one of Bucky’s hoodies off the floor and pulling it over his head. He stumbles as he tries to step into a pair of boxers. He’s only slightly disgusted that he doesn’t know whose they are.

He staggers into the kitchen, stifling a yawn, and plasters himself against Bucky’s back. The other man groans playfully at the added weight but doesn’t make any move to get Steve off him.

“Mornin’, Stevie,” Bucky chuckles, deep with sleep. Steve mewls as he tries to burrow himself into Bucky’s skin.

“Mmhm ‘addy,”

“Still sleepin’, bunny?” Steve hums softly. “That’s okay. You want some coffee?”

---

They don’t talk about what Steve said when he was half awake and half floating after they’ve eaten breakfast and have both woken up more. They don’t talk about it on their run, or in the shower after their run, or even while they’re making out on the couch in the early afternoon, ignoring the film they had started watching.

They don’t talk about it the day after, or the day after that, or even the day after that. He’s not worried that Bucky has forgotten about it, Buck never forgets anything that Steve says. He doesn’t think that Bucky has forgotten, but Bucky normally brings these things up, whether it’s in casual conversation or as a negotiation, but Bucky seems content to forget all about it. Or, at least, not talk about it.

Steve cannot forget all about it.

He’s not sure why it’s bothering him so much. It’s not like he’s never topped before. Fair enough, they don’t switch positions often, and they never switch their roles, but Steve has fucked Bucky on many occasions. So it’s not like it’s something he’s nervous about, there’s no reason for him to be so worked up, but there’s…something. Some sort of energy buzzing under his skin and he can’t get the thoughts out of his head.

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

It turns out Bucky has absolutely not forgotten about it. In fact, once they get started, it’s pretty clear he’s been thinking about it a lot.

It takes a few weeks for it to come up, and at first Steve isn’t even aware it’s happening. He comes back home from a late lunch with Sam and Bucky is sat on their couch, dressed in his workout gear, loose t-shirt and baggy shorts, beer in his hand. Steve frowns slightly at the sight, confused. He knows Bucky hasn’t been to the gym today and he knows Bucky’s showered within the past hour or so, can smell the hints of coconut from the fancy shampoo Bucky insists they buy. His hair is pulled into a low bun at the back of his head, a few strands falling loose and framing his face. But Bucky never really wears his gym stuff outside of the gym, only when they…oh. Only when they’re playing.

He’s already ready to go. Zero to sixty in three-point-five.

“You’re back,” Bucky murmurs, not taking his eyes off the hockey game that is playing on the television. He doesn’t look up, but he does frown. “You’re overdressed. Fix it,” Steve swallows down a whine that threatens to burst out of his throat, closes his eyes, takes a moment and breathes deeply. It’s the first order he’s been given and it’s far too early to embarrass himself. Bucky clears his throat, and that’s when Steve realises he hasn’t made a move yet, hasn’t even started to kick his shoes off. He swallows again as he begins to strip off, making sure to do it the way Bucky likes even though the other man isn’t watching him, has turned all his attention back to the game. He takes the time to fold each piece of his clothing how he knows Bucky expects him to, placing them neatly on the table by the door. Steve’s barely put the pile down before Bucky is snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor between his spread legs. He takes one step before Bucky clicks his tongue.

“S…sorry, Daddy,”

“Hmm,” Bucky hums, unconvinced, eyes still glued to the game. “Goin’ dumb already? Forgettin’ the rules so quickly?” His voice is laced in mock disappointment, a voice that serves only one purpose: fluster Steve. Steve whines softly as his cheeks heat up, body making a quiet thud against the carpet as he falls to his knees. He crawls over to Bucky slowly.

Bucky doesn’t even look down at him when he settles between Bucky’s legs, just puts his hand not holding the beer into Steve’s hair, tugging his hair back sharply. He snorts when Steve breathes in abruptly through his teeth.

“Get me out,” Bucky sighs, moving his hand down the back of Steve’s head and tugging on the lobe of his ear. “Ten minutes of the game left. Wanna come before it’s finished,”

“Yes, Daddy,” Steve murmurs, bringing his hands up to the waistband of Bucky’s shorts. He pulls them down swiftly, lets himself nuzzle against his daddy’s cock when it’s exposed. He feels Bucky twitch against his cheek, the only suggestion that Bucky isn’t as cool and calm as he pretends to be.

“Nine minutes,” Bucky’s voice sounds further away than it did before, clouded by the fog already settling in in Steve’s head. “Better hurry up, slut. Don’t wanna disappoint me, do you?”

“No,” He doesn’t need Bucky to verbalise any sort of threat, doesn’t have to hear what Buck will do if Steve doesn’t manage to obey. He whimpers suddenly when Bucky fists his hand through Steve’s hair again and tugs backwards harshly. Bucky’s eyes are hard when they meet Steve’s. Steve tries his hardest not to let his eyes close as he sobs. “Daddy! No, Daddy! ‘M sorry,”

“Good.” Bucky lets go of his hair again, turns back to the tv without sparing Steve another glance. “Eight minutes, thirty-seven,”

Steve’s not sure he’s even been so hard so quickly. It’s a mixture of the pain and the way Bucky is ignoring him, using him to get off but not giving him any attention. He doesn’t really know, isn’t sure, how he’s meant to get through the scene without coming until he’s giving permission.

He tries to distract himself as he sucks Bucky’s cock, but with the way his mind is getting foggier the longer he’s on his knees, he’s finding it difficult to focus on anything beyond the cock in his mouth. It’s heavy and hot and fills him up so nicely. He loves the way Bucky feels inside him, anyway at all, but if someone held a gun to his head and told him to choose, he’s probably say this is his favourite way. There’s just something so… nice about being on his knees in front of the man he loves, choking and spluttering and gagging on his cock, making Bucky feel good, not having to focus on anything except for pleasing his man.

It takes him off guard when Bucky spills down his throat, whatever grunts he makes muffled by the opening of the beer bottle in his mouth. Steve sighs happily when Bucky pulls him off his cock, making small, confused, pouty noises when Bucky pushes him back down, further. Steve mouths at the underside of his daddy’s cock, unsure what he’s expecting him to do. Bucky just laughs softly, keeps pushing Steve’s head, down the length of his cock and past his balls and oh.

Bucky’s laugh is breathy when he hears Steve’s broken whimper, feels Steve’s eyes fluttering against his thigh.

“You gonna get Daddy ready?” Bucky asks. He lifts one of his legs off the floor, stepping out of his shorts and setting his foot on the table next to where he’s set down his beer. Steve whimpers as the new position gives him more access to his daddy’s hole. “Yeah, that’s it,” Bucky encourages as Steve starts to lick, his laps growing more confident with Bucky’s low moans. “Such a good little toy,”

“Mmh,”

“Good,” Bucky shuffles slightly, bringing his hips forward. Steve moves with him, easy with the change of angle. “Give Daddy a finger, come on,”

Steve is…Steve is in heaven. He’s slow as he pushes a single finger into Bucky’s tight heat, moans even louder than Bucky does at the sensation. He’s slow, treats Bucky right, crooks his finger just right to rub over the bundle that he knows will drive his daddy wild and is rewarded with the most beautiful sound he thinks he’ll ever hear; a low groan of a noise, a deep rumble, a happy daddy sound and Steve ups his effort to make Bucky make more of those sounds. He takes his time but he still goes at Buck’s speed, adding another finger when he rumbles out “Another, Steve, c’mon,”.He laps around where Bucky’s rim is stretched around three of Steve’s fingers, not stopping even when he feels his spit drooling down his chin, dropping onto his own tits.

He lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched whine when Bucky pushes him back, bare foot pushing against his shoulder, not hard but firm enough that Steve can’t really push back against it, knows it won’t be well received. His face flushes when Bucky chuckles. He glances up, and it’s not fair how unaffected Bucky looks; his pupils are blown and there’s barely any blue in his eyes, but beyond that and the slight pink blush on his cheeks, barely noticeable if you’re not Steve, Bucky looks the same as he did when Steve stepped into their house. Even as he’s still got three of Steve’s fingers buried inside of him.

“You want somethin’, sugar?” Bucky asks, voice light with laughter. Steve’s own voice is barely above a whisper.

“Please,”

“Aw,” It’s almost effortless, the way Bucky changes from carefree and laughing to downright mocking Steve, cruel grin lighting up his face. “Stevie, you gotta problem down there?” He nods down to Steve’s cock, standing proud and deep red. Steve’s cheeks heat up to match the colour, and his eyes drop, trying to hide. Bucky purses his lips, clicks his tongue, and then makes Steve sob. “You think you’re gonna be able to last long enough to fuck Daddy?”

“Daddy!”

“Uh huh,” Bucky nods, frowning somewhat. He sighs, put on, when Steve peers back up at him. “I thought this might happen,” He smiles sympathetically, carding his fingers gently through Steve’s hair. “Got you a present to help you though, Stevie. What do we say?” He sounds so genuine, is the thing, like he was actually worried about Steve not managing and he actually wanted to help. Later, Steve will curse himself for falling for the act, falling into the trap Bucky set up so perfectly. For now, though, he smiles drowsily up at Bucky.

“Thank…thank you, Daddy,” It’s this moment that Bucky’s smirk comes back, big and cruel, and Steve realises his mistake. He swallows.

“You’re very welcome, baby,” Bucky pushes Steve back further, snickering at the look of Steve’s face when his fingers slide out with a wet sound. “Come on, come to the bedroom,” He helps Steve to his feet, steadying him when he stumbles slightly. Steve lets out a soft, happy moan when Bucky pulls him forwards, velvety lips meeting his own, moving together sweetly. He blinks heavily when Bucky pulls away, eyes clearing to see the amused look on Bucky’s face. “C’mon, doll. Don’t go dumb on me just yet. You’ve got a job to do,” He grins as he takes Steve’s hand in his own, tugging him up the stairs and towards their bedroom. Steve lets out a surprised gasp when Bucky suddenly pushes him backwards, big paw of a hand right in the middle of Steve’s chest, pressing him onto the bed. Bucky laughs and Steve swallows when Bucky kisses his cheek. He knows Bucky so well, better than anyone else in the world, and he knows what that kiss means. He’s not going to like what’s coming up. He’s going to love it, sure, but he’s not going to like it. Bucky’s clever like that. “Still w’ me, Stevie?” His head nods without him having to think, his voice horse.

“Gr’n, Daddy,”

“Good,” Bucky coos, patting his cheek just a little more than gently but not enough to sting. A love tap, in Bucky’s books. “You stay here, Daddy’s gonna go and get your gift, ‘kay?”

“Mmh’kay, Daddy,”

“Good boy,” He tracks Bucky’s movements until he’s deep inside their closet, hidden by the walls. Steve lets his eyes drift shut, trying to focus on the sound of Bucky pottering around, trying to calm himself down. He tries not to think about the gift that Bucky has gotten him, sure that it’s not going to be as nice as Bucky is making it out to be. He’s fairly certain that it will be some sort of ring, something to stop him coming as soon as he’s inside Bucky, something that can help him last. He understands, it’s entirely likely that as soon as he’s settled inside Bucky he won’t be able to help himself, but Bucky knows as well as Steve does that coming won’t stop him. They can both go six, seven, even eight times in one night at a push, barely going soft in between, so it’s not like coming too soon is going to prevent him from pleasing Bucky. But the thing with the cock ring, what he’s assuming Bucky is aiming for, is that Steve gets so impossibly sensitive with the ring on, unable to come but getting desperate to. It never fails to entertain Bucky when Steve gets like that. So, he assumes that’s what Bucky’s going to do.

He’s startled when Bucky clears his throat. His eyes fly open to meet Bucky’s, apology already on the tip of his tongue, but Bucky just smiles, cuts him off.

“Hi, baby,” His voice is sweet, more so than usual when the ring makes an appearance, and makes Steve second guess his assumptions. He still moans, though.

“Daddy…” Bucky chuckles as he makes his way over to the bed, crawling up Steve’s body until they’re face to face. He’s lost the rest of his clothes while he’s been gone, body beautifully bare and right up against Steve and Steve’s fairly sure this is an attempt on his life. It’s the only explanation. That’s Bucky’s aim for today’s play, and Steve is more than okay with anything Bucky wants. If Daddy wants it, Daddy can have it.

“You wanna see what I got you?”

“Please,” Steve whines, trying to stop his hips from humping up against Bucky’s solid thigh but it’s hard. Bucky’s thigh’s right there and Steve can feel it and it takes everything in him keep his hips down. Bucky grins, holding himself up with his metal arm, body hovering effortlessly. It’s not fair.

“I know you wanna make Daddy feel good, but ‘M just a lil worried that you won’t be able to last, doll,” He frowns mockingly as his right-hand slips between their bodies and flicks the head of Steve’s cock. He grins gleefully when Steve’s cock spurts a little. “See what I mean?” He laughs cruelly when Steve’s face glows red. “And I just wanna help you do what you want to do,” Steve’s fully expecting the ring. It’s the only thing in his head that makes any sense, so he’s a bit confused when Bucky just holds a dildo up. The confusion must be clear on his face, because Bucky’s grin turns into a sly smirk. Steve whimpers when Bucky turns the toy so the hollow base is visible. It suddenly clicks in Steve’s head. That’s going on his…yeah. This is definitely an attempt on his life. Bucky’s out to kill him. “Aren’t I the best Daddy, Stevie? Helping you like this?” Bucky laughs when Steve starts crying.

“Daddy!”

“You don’t sound very grateful, doll face,” Bucky frowns mockingly, lips pouting out slightly. “If you wanna make Daddy feel good, he deserves as long as he wants, right? You don’t wanna disappoint me, do you? Don’t wanna fill me up too soon so I can’t feel you?”

“Wanna…” Steve swallows as he shakes his head quickly. “Wanna make Daddy feel good,”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Bucky nods, huffing out a laugh. “You’ll be good and let me put this on you, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond, just lifts his hips up high enough that he can slip the straps of the harness around Steve’s waist. He pushes Steve hips back down when the straps are flat under his body, bringing them around the front and attaching one side to the ring at the end of the dildo. Steve doesn’t know where he found the time to reach for the lube, but when Bucky’s hand wraps around the length of his cock, it’s wet and warm and Steve’s in heaven. Or hell, judging by the sob that forces its way out of his throat.

Bucky’s hand moves up and down only twice before the toy is being lowered down over his cock. He whimpers when Bucky attaches the strap to the other side of the ring and tightens it, using his finger to make sure the material isn’t digging into Steve’s hips. Steve watches this time as Bucky reaches for the lube, putting more onto his hand and bringing his hand down to Steve’s cock.

He feels…disconnected. From his own body. He’s watching as Bucky’s hand moves up and down slowly, twisting just the way that Steve loves. He’s watching it happen, but he can’t feel it. Bucky snickers cruelly before he takes his hand away. He rolls over and settles against the pillows, shuffling back until he’s comfortable. He turns to Steve and raises his eyebrow.

“Come on then, toy,” Steve whimpers at the name, fighting to keep his eyes open. “Come and make me feel good. Do your job,” Steve’s slow as he makes his way over to Bucky, climbs up his body and holds himself up with one of his hands. He uses the other to steady the toy, line it up with Bucky’s hole. He knows Bucky can take it, has had Steve’s fingers in him for the better part of an hour, but he still goes slowly, lets Bucky feel every inch of the toy, of him, entering him. He wiggles only slightly as he bottoms out, snivelling at the sound of Bucky’s low groan as he gets used to the intrusion.

“Move,” He grunts out, tangling his hands in Steve’s hair and tightening them only slightly, enough to pull Steve’s head backwards to encourage him to move. “This is just what you wanted, right?” He groans out, grinning at the broken whimper that comes out of Steve’s mouth. “Just to be a toy for your Daddy’s pleasure, not distracted by that tiny clit between your legs?” Steve’s skin burns right down his body, his chest ablaze with the feeling Bucky is creating for him. “Maybe…maybe next time you can…you can be a pretty little flesh light for me. Nice and tight and-” He gasps sharply as Steve rocks forward sharply, right into his prostate. “-and hot, bouncing up an’ down on my cock like a lil bunny, pleasing me so well. Just like now,”

“Dad-ddy,” Steve whines, tears falling down his face and falling onto Bucky beneath him. Bucky frowns at the sound, pouting and widening his eyes.

“Oh, that’s not a happy noise,” He mocks, brushing Steve’s hair out of his face. He grips Steve’s chin, forces his face up, making his eyes meet his. “Doesn’t Daddy feel good, Stevie? You don’t sound like he feels good,”

“Daddy!” Steve sobs loudly, hips stuttering and face trying to fall into Bucky’s shoulder. The other man doesn’t let him hide, keeping his grip strong in the fringe of Steve’s hair and on his chin. Bucky is cruel, Steve realises, so terribly cruel. He knows what Bucky is doing, how he’s trying to make Steve feel and it’s working so well. Bucky keeps frowning.

“You’re making Daddy feel inadequate, baby. It’s my job to make you feel good. Is Daddy doing a bad job? Does Daddy not feel good?” It’s the most delicious mindfuck Steve has ever felt. He whines as Bucky looks at him expectantly, knowing what he wants him to say.

“Feel…” Steve gulps harshly, eyes closing and breathing going deep. His voice is quiet when he continues, breaking on each word. “Feels so good,” He opens his eyes again just in time to see Bucky’s smirk slowly grow.

“Good, baby,” He coos, letting go of Steve’s chin and instead patting him mockingly on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re feelin’ good. Makes me feel like a good Daddy, knowin’ that I’m pleasin’ you.” Steve groans, his hips stuttering again and resting flush against Bucky’s. The other man pinches the skin of Steve’s hip with a tut, causing him to yelp before continuing his movements. “Don’t ruin it, toy. You’ve been fuckin’ me so good, so well, make me feel so good, you better not stop now,”

“Won’t!” Steve gasps out, lifting himself back up and continuing his thrusts, harder and deeper than before, doing his best to please Bucky.

“Fuck,” The other man groans, fingers digging into Steve’s hips unintentionally with the pleasure. “Right there, toy, fuck,” Steve moans in tandem with Bucky, hips rolling forwards and slapping against Bucky’s skin, even if he can’t feel anything. He didn’t expect this to do it for him, not so much, but seeing the pleasure he’s giving Bucky without feeling anything? He’s feeling disconnected from his body in the best way.

The first time Bucky comes, Steve isn’t expecting it. He hasn’t noticed Bucky’s hand sneaking down in between them and starting to squeeze, to pull at himself. Bucky groans through it, not stopping his hand and not telling Steve to pause in his movements, milking the come out of himself.

“Keep going,” Bucky’s breathing is a little heavier than before, eyes still closed in pleasure. Steve imagines the way that Bucky would feel around him if he didn’t have this damn toy on, the way he would be clenching around him as he comes, the tight heat, the wet slide.

Steve’s so lost in his head he doesn’t notices that Bucky’s coming again, so soon after the last one. The noise he makes is more high pitched this time, the sensation of Steve still fucking into him quickly becoming too much when paired with the two successive orgasms.

“Wait,” He gasps, hands gripping Steve’s shoulders, stilling his movements. “Stop, toy,” His eyes are still closed, breathing heavily and voice mumbled. “Finished using you, finished playing,”

Bucky takes longer than he strictly needs to catch his breath, perfectly happy to watch at Steve squirms and whines and tries to get his attention. When he’s got his breath back, he rolls out from under Steve, manhandling him until he’s lying on his back with his hands gripping the bed frame, pressing down on them so Steve knows to keep them there. He himself lays on his side, facing his baby, letting his cheek rest on the palm of his hand. He’s slow as he undoes the straps of the harness, unclipping them and unthreading them from the base of the toy, but leaving the dildo over Steve’s cock. The other man chokes on a sob when Bucky slowly jacks the toy, eyes shining.

“Since you’re just a toy, you don’t need to come, right?” Bucky practically purrs, giddy in the afterglow of his orgasms, feasting off the whines Steve is producing. “That’s what you said to me, right? ‘Don’t need to come!’” He pitches his voice high, nasally, using it to taunt and embarrass Steve, grinning when he squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face away from Bucky to hide in his arms. Bucky just reaches out and grips his chin, hard, forcing his eyes open and to look at him. “’Just need Daddy’s come!’ That’s what you told me, yeah?”

“Don’t…don’t need to come,” Steve parrots, moans, low and broken, voice heavy with tears.

“But…” Steve perks up slightly when Bucky’s fingers leave his chin and reach down from the toy, lifting it slowly, so so slowlyoff Steve’s cock and letting it fall to the floor with a quiet thud. “That looks painful, Stevie,” Bucky coos as he nods at Steve’s cock, encouraging him to look down at it. Steve whimpers when he sees it, deep red and ever so stiff and leaking so much. “And ‘M not a cruel Daddy, am I, baby?”

“No, Nuh-uh,” Steve shakes his head as he answers quickly. “The…the best Daddy-”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky laughs, holding a finger over Steve’s lips to get him to be quiet. “I’m not cruel, not gonna make you sleep like that, all heavy and full, so I’ll give you a choice,”

“Wha…”

“Hush,” Bucky shushes him, but not harshly, a complete contrast to the next words that come out of his mouth. “A choice. I can go and get the ice, or you can have a ruin.”

“No!” Steve wails. He sobs as Bucky smirks down at him, raising an eyebrow. “Please, Daddy, I-”

“You are just a toy.” Bucky sneers, slapping his hand down harshly on the meat of Steve’s tit, scoffing at the shrieking noise that Steve fails to hold in. “You’re my toy. And I’m bein’ gracious enough to give you a choice, Steven. I’m being nice. I don’t haveta be,” He uses the same hand that he slapped Steve with to tug at his nipple instead. “You got three seconds to make a choice, or Daddy’ll make it for you. And Daddy’s startin’ to lose his patience,” Steve sobs at the sing-song tone in Bucky’s voice, the way his eyes are shining. He tries his best to think about which of the two options are the best, which one will hurt less but his mind doesn’t seem to want to work. He’s struggling to think beyond the pinch of Bucky’s metal fingers on his nipples and the ache in his cock, that’s heavy and purpling and weeping and-

“Wanna-” His voice breaks around the word, throat impossibly dry. “Wanna empty, please,”

“Good choice,” Bucky finally relents on Steve’s tits, rearranging himself so he’s on his back and leaning against the stack of pillows. He holds his right hand over Steve’s mouth. “Lick,” He tells him, voice sounding bored, while his attention focuses on turning the tv on and flicking through the channels. When he’s decided that his hand is wet enough, he clenches it into a loose fist and holds it above Steve’s cock, just high enough that Steve will have to struggle to fuck up into without the use of his hands. “Get on with it, then,” Bucky says, voice light like he’s not interested, like he’s paying attention to the dumb reality show that he’s landed on. Steve knows it’s just an act, but God is Bucky the star of the show, the best actor Steve has ever seen, playing a role that was literally written for him. It’s an act, but it works so well, spurs Steve on to do a good job, to please his daddy.

Steve whimpers almost continuously as he thrusts his hips up, having to plant his feet into the mattress to get any sort of stimulation from Bucky’s loose hand. He’s close embarrassingly quickly, despite not having had his cock touched for more than a few seconds at the start of their scene. He tries to tell Bucky this, but the words won’t come out of his mouth.

Bucky doesn’t need the words though. He never has, has always been able to read Steve like he’s his favourite book, cover well worn and pages becoming tattered with the amount of thumbing through that has happened. He doesn’t even look at Steve as he tightens his hand, starts jacking up and down quickly. Steve’s mouth drops open but no sound comes out. He tries, tries to warn Bucky, he’s right on the edge, is teetering over, is starting to-

Bucky takes his hand away.

Steve sobs, loud and uninhibited, tears pouring out of his eyes at the sudden loss of sensation. He’s vaguely aware of one of Bucky’s paws on his chest, holding him down and stopping him thrusting up in any capacity. He can’t focus on anything, there’s nothing to ground him, to take him away from this feeling of anguish he is feeling.

He stops coming at some point, can feel his dick twitch as it finishes, leaving him feeling empty but terribly unsatisfied, an achy buzz he can’t escape from.

He can’t focus on anything, mind floating somewhere a million miles from earth. He can feel the vibrations of someone, Daddy, talking, whispering into his skin as something warm glides over Steve’s body. He can’t make out the individual words his daddy is saying, but he can feel the smiles, the soft kisses being littered across his warm skin.

When he lands again, he’s not sure how much time has passed. He’s face down on the bed, still naked, but he can feel his hair is damp, can smell the coconut of the shampoo. There are fingers dancing up and down the expanse of his back. He lets out a hoarse giggle.

“You back w’ me, Stevie?” Bucky whispers, hands stilling for a moment before they continue their journey up and down Steve’s back. Steve can’t answer with more than a hum but does turn his face and blinks owlishly up at Bucky. “There he is, my gorgeous boy,”

“Daddy…”

“The most beautiful boy. The best boy, best I could ever ask for. You were so good for me, Stevie,” Bucky smiles into Steve’s hair as he presses kisses into the softness. Steve presses into the feeling, squirming and wriggling on the bed, trying to get closer to Bucky. The other man chuckles at him, using one of his legs to hook over Steve’s, pulling him until he’s lying right on top of Bucky’s body, hairs tickling Bucky’s nose.

“Mhmm,” Steve sighs, nuzzling his cheek into Bucky’s chest.

“You’re like a damn cat, Stevie.”

Steve purrs happily.

#stucky #stucky smut #bucky x steve #bucky/steve #dom bucky barnes #sub steve rogers #top steve rogers #bottom bucky barnes #bucky barnes #steve rogers #daddy bucky barnes

[cno-inbminor]

idek sighs -- heed the warnings

domestic bliss + soft to hard dom!akaashi with a senpai kink, dirty talk, praising, some degradation, dumbification/mind break, fingering, unprotected sex, slight size kink if you squint, creampie.

unedited. ~1.7k. i love akaashi, what’s new

akaashi has a crazy schedule sometimes, especially when new seasons are coming around and everyone's absolutely scrambling. it's full of headaches he knew were coming but didn't really want, lots of keeping up with artists and making sure they're still motivated and passionate -- sometimes, he's worried that you'll forget how much he loves you, how his motivation to get his work done asap is so he can come home to you and pass out in your arms, how he might not be showing you all the love and affection in the world but,,

more often than not, he can come home at a reasonable time. you might be cooped up in bed or hunched over your desk, but there's always either takeout or leftovers wrapped up for him in the microwave. he gets to eat while you chat with him across the table with a cup of tea or lemon water, never failing to wrap an arm around your waist when you stand to put his dishes in the sink and tilting his head up as far as he can to lay a thankful peck on your cheek. but most of all, he gets to shower with you.

showers are comfort zones for minds like his, able to tune in to the constant beating of water against the tiles. there's no rush for him to get anywhere (unless he's at forseeable danger of falling asleep and cracking his head open), and more importantly, you're there with him. you two get to stand as close as possible under the shower stream so the stream hits you both (he angles the shower head a little bit more in your direction though). often times, he wraps his limbs around your waist and basks in the feeling of your skin against his, warmth and steam clouding the bathroom. akaashi can take his sweet time laying gentle kisses and nips along your shoulder and neck or staring affectionately into your eyes, no need to ever say anything. adoration, gratitude, disbelief, domestic bliss, all melded together into shining blue orbs. other times, he cradles your neck with his pretty hands and languidly kisses you, sometimes pressing with more force as he focuses on just how soft your lips are, how sensual the glide is and burns his nerves, how lucky he is to give his heart to an angel like you.

he loves you so very, very dearly.

sometimes he misses your soft moans and mewls right in his ear, how misty and hazy your vision and head seems to get in the shower. he was a setter, he was the beacon of control, and loves knowing that his nimble fingers can unravel you as much or as little as he wants, as fast or as painstakingly slow as he demands. there are days when he's too tired to stand under the water stream and sits in the tub instead, pulling you against his chest. the body contact and warmth is needed in the first few minutes when the tiles are still cold and prickling against your skin, but that gives him time to tease and relish in how 100% of your body is so sensitive, just for him. it fires him up like nothing else, and he frequently has to hold back from slipping his fingers inside you and pressing incessantly against the spot that drives you wild.

it's never a surprise to you when these days happen because akaashi always has your vibrator handy, a cute little turquoise g-spot kind -- he is a service dom through and through and his pleasure is mainly derived from pulling you apart and having you tightly clutching his thighs and neck. he starts slow, soft nips into your skin, hands ghosting over your breasts and nipples. you feel the curve of his smirk as they react and harden quickly from his touches, occasionally shivering when a stray water bullet lands harshly on the tip of nerves. "so good for me, love you, princess," he murmurs into your ear and your breath hitches when he rubs slow, gentle circles of your clit. it's just enough to turn your brain into mush, but not enough to be completely satisfied because you want more, always more with this man until you're drunk on nothing but his fingers and tongue and cock.

the swirling in the pit of his stomach growls dangerously because he wants so badly to hear those pleas fall off your tongue, begging and demanding for pleasure that can only be given to you by him and other allowable aids. "be good, use your words for me, mmk? be good for senpai, i know you can, and i'll reward you. don't you want my cock inside you, princess? i know how much you like to be stretched out for me, showing what a good little cock slut you are--"

"keiji, please!" you half sob, half whimper, your hips bucking as he slips two fingers inside you, instantly curling them so he can batter them against your g-spot. the grip of his free arm around your waist is tight and keeps you in place, victim to the toe-curling pleasure your boyfriend never fails to give. "pleasepleaseplease, wan' more, n-need more, please--"

"taught you so well, haven't i?" he groans into your neck, cock painfully hard from how your words wind him up. "all for me, right? hmm?"

"yes, senpai, all for you, promise!" you cry. a small scream echoes through the bathroom as keiji fits a 3rd finger in and you feel that slight, addicting burn, immediately thinking about how good you wanna be for 'kaashi. it's not long before you're creaming and cumming around those appendages, mind going positively blank as you arch your back and twitch as he draws your orgasm out. his praises send you faster down the path of overstimulation, torn between wanting to stop and staying for more. you always end up choosing the latter because how could you say no to senpai?

the whines that leave your body almost has him cum right then and there when he removes his fingers, leaving you dizzy and blissfully aware of how empty you feel at the moment. without inhibitions, you push yourself up and start grasping around for his cock, desperate to be filled once again. akaashi knows what you're going for, helping to readjust so you're both comfortable but hands gripping your waist before you can sink down onto him. "did you forget your manners? what do you ask senpai?"

" 'm sorry senpai," you sniffle and wrack your brains. "c-can i please have your cock inside me, please senpai? wan' it so bad, keiji, so so bad--"

akaashi loosens up lets you slide halfway down his shaft, leaning you back so you're helpless against him. it's enough to have you babble about how big he is, your hand mindlessly laying on top of your abdomen in dazed approximation of how deep he might be. when he feels your gummy walls clench around him, he can't help but thrust the rest of his length inside you, bottoming out and cursing into your shoulder. "fuck, such a good cock slut, taking me so well. senpai's so proud of you, doing so good for me pretty girl, love being inside you--"

"need you to fuck me, s-senpai -- hnng --"

" 'm not fucking you right if you're still talking, hmm? can't have that, now can we?"

it doesn't take much for you to go completely limp, surrendered to his thrusts and battering of your pussy, reaching most of the sensitive spots deep inside that have you shaking and mewling. your pants and nonsensical, broken phrases of how much you love his cock fuel the possessive monster in his gut. his eyes roll back as he relishes in how tight, warm, and soaked you are, eyes catching a glimpse of the ring of cream around the base of his length. he shakily reaches for the vibrator lying innocently on the edge of the tub, thanking waterproof technology as he holds the power button down to turn it on. his thrusts slow down a bit so he can accurately find your clit, and when you squeal into your fist, he pushes down more and falls back into his usual pace.

he counts down in his head, basking in how your walls close down more and more and more until you cum again, upper torso lifting and tensing up in the snap of the coil before collapsing again with the scream of his name in his ear. he holds you down with a large palm on your abdomen, your body fighting against it as you twitch and shake from overstimulation. "love it when you cum on my cock, such a good little fuck toy -- gonna let senpai cum inside you? fill you up? you want it, no?"

"p-please, your cum, wan' it please, wan' your cum so bad," you manage to plead, a shred of clarity miraculously gracing you. a few strokes later and a bite into your shoulder, akaashi spills everything he has. you're so lovely to take it all, and even after he slips out, he knows you're subconsciously doing your best to keep it all inside you. that doesn't stop the tendrils of satisfaction from wrapping around his heart as some cum managers to escape you, allowing the water to wash it down the drain.

aftercare consists of cleaning you up until the hot water runs out, soft and thorough as you come back to him with a bleary smile and lazy kisses. praises and compliments never stop until you're giggling from his cheesiness and you do your best to soap and wash his hair. he does his best to help you out of the bathtub and get you a towel to dry off, hurriedly working on his own body to get back to you. akaashi doesn't move more than 3 feet away from you if he can help it.

and when you're both cuddled in bed, facing each other and hands clasped together, akaashi thinks he has it all because most importantly...

he has you.

#akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #akaashi smut #haikyuu smut #yeah we're trying this again whoops #akaashi #akaashi keiji #i love this man so much jfc #kay is attempting shitposting

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Night Crawling

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~3350

Warnings: Some explicit smutty goodness in a dive bar bathroom, some recreational drug use, some Sam feels. 

A/N: I really thought I was going to write PWP for once. As usual, some feels snuck in. Set at some vague point in Season 5. 

I’ve had the new Miley Cyrus album on repeat all day; inspiration, title, and bathroom graffiti quote all came from “Night Crawling.” Listen to that and “Gimme What I Want” if you want maximum ~atmosphere~ or whatever while reading. 

“Another?” Sam asks, leaning in to make himself heard over the music. He gives me a twisted, wicked version of his usual dimpled smile. There’s a drop of tequila clinging to his lip, and I want to lick it off. He’s so close. 

My head is still spinning from the last shot and from his attention. I shake it off. 

“Bathroom, I’ll be back,” I tell him. 

Sam’s in a fucking mood tonight. Not that I blame him. Time is ticking away, faster by the day it feels like; if Lucifer was after me, I’d take whatever escape I could get. 

Dean’s at the motel, hopefully putting some ice on his twisted ankle or maybe sleeping, and normally Sam would be fussing over him like an overgrown fucking mother hen. Instead, he suggested that we go “blow off some steam,” looking at me with this glint in his eyes, like he was daring me. 

So… here we are, getting fucked up in a grimy rock club, watching some Nine Inch Nails wannabes wail like a porn soundtrack over a dirty industrial bassline. 

Sam fucking Winchester. Always full of surprises. 

It’s one of those single-occupancy dive bathrooms where I don’t want to touch anything or, like, inhale too hard. It’s impossible to tell what color the walls originally were under the layers of concert flyers and graffiti. There’s probably enough cocaine residue on the chipped porcelain sink counter to get an elephant high. That kind of place. 

He wants me almost as much as I want him, I’m pretty sure, but I never thought either of us would act on it. Too many complications, too many ways to fuck it all up… now, though? The entire world is fucked. Might as well get laid before it all goes to shit.

Two lines of red Sharpie scrawl next to the mirror grab my attention: night crawling, sky falling, gotta listen when the Devil’s calling. 

Yeah. Well. 

I don’t think either of us will make it out of this alive, but he doesn’t want to. That’s what this is all about, really. He started this apocalypse. He’ll never forgive himself if he lives through it. I’ll never forgive him if he doesn’t. 

I wash my hands and splash some water on my cheeks, bracing myself. I can feel the chemicals kicking up my spine, now.

If Sam fucking Winchester needs to indulge his self-destructive streak and get out of his head for a night, I’ll keep him company. Fuck knows I’ll never say no to him. I’ll stay with him til the end, if he lets me. 

It hits me again: this is the end. The world is about to end, and that sweet, sexy, puppy-eyed motherfucker out there is at the center of all of it. Heaven, hell, good, evil… and Sam. If tonight is what we’ve got — if this is all we’ll ever get — I’ll take it. I’ve always wanted more, but… this’ll do. It’ll have to do. 

He’s slouching against the wall, right outside the bathroom hallway. He gives me this dark, hungry grin when he sees me, and maybe whatever was in that pastel blue pill is making itself known, or maybe it’s just Sam that’s sending a wave of prickly heat over my skin… either way, it feels good. 

“C’mon,” he says, passing me a cup of ice water, and then he’s gripping me by the wrist, pulling me into the crowd. 

Sam doesn’t dance, and he sure as hell doesn’t dance with me, but he’s not fucking around: hands on my waist, hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at me, cheeks flushed, moving with the beat. I rest my free hand on his upper arm, right where the swell of his bicep flexes against the soft cotton sleeve of his t-shirt, and I can’t help but squeeze slightly, feeling hot skin and muscle under my palm. I swallow hard. 

Sam leans in closer. I can smell him, the natural scent of his sweat under the spice of his deodorant, and it’s so overwhelming that I shiver. 

He gets his lips right up against my ear, the deep rumble of his voice a physical thing that I can feel as well as hear: “Ever just get sick of being yourself?” 

Jesus. 

“Yeah,” I mumble, mouth dry. I don’t know if he hears me but it doesn’t really matter. 

“I think too much. I don’t want to think tonight. Is that okay?” 

I suck in a breath. “Don’t need to explain, Sam. I get it.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, heavy-lidded, golden skin shining with sweat in the flecks of light coming off the disco ball. “Dance with me.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, Sam, anything you want.”

I toss back the cup of water, gulping it down, too eager; some of it trickles down my chin. I don’t care. I drop the cup and run my hand up Sam’s chest. His eyes flutter closed and he licks his lips, sinful, gorgeous. For a moment I think he might say something but instead he spins me around and hauls me closer, my back to his chest. 

The song is filthy, all thudding funk hooks and wild drums. There’s this frantic heat behind it that has me sinking under the surface, swimming through the riff, and the pulse of it wriggles down my spine and works itself out through my hips as I toss my head. It’s the kind of rhythm that’s made for sweating all over a stranger. 

Sam might as fucking well be a stranger right now. I never knew he could move like this. 

His hips swivel and twist, and his hands slide down to my thighs, pinning me against the solid muscled heat of his body. I feel reckless. I feel high and overstimulated and utterly fearless, and I can feel his touch echoing through me, inside me, throbbing down my belly to where I’m empty and suddenly aching. 

As soon as I think about it, the emptiness hits me hard. My cunt is clenching around nothing in time with the gritty slap of percussion. I arch my back and rub myself against Sam shamelessly. 

He’s hard against my ass, hard and getting harder with every shrieking lick of guitar, and the awareness of it sends a thrill down through the core of me, like a bolt of lightning striking between my legs. My breath catches and hisses out of my lungs like I’m a punctured balloon. I feel dizzy. 

It’s all so intense right now. Every inch of my skin is fizzing, and the simple curl of his fingers around my wrist has me shuddering like he’s stroking something much more intimate. 

On any other night I would try to step back, to get myself under control… I’d start thinking, and I wouldn’t be able to stop, and I’d get stuck in my head instead of giving in to the mind-blowingly intimate thrill of his fingertips pressing into my pulse. 

We’re not thinking tonight. I couldn’t think straight even if I wanted to. 

The beat changes, segueing into something low and slinking and goddamn obscene. I’m dripping with sweat — mine or Sam’s? I can’t tell — and my skin is on fire, and I want Sam in this awful, all-consuming way that I’ve never wanted anything or anyone.

So I don’t think about it; I just turn, twisting in his arms until we’re face to face, or rather, face to chest. He’s biting his lip, expression almost pained as he grips my waist and slots a thigh between mine. I snake my arms around his neck and roll my hips, feeling the seam of my jeans dragging up the sensitive spot between my legs, and I’m absurdly grateful for the way the music drowns out any embarrassing noise I might make. 

There’s a drop of sweat sliding down the corded muscle of his neck. It trickles to a glittering halt right at eye level, in the hollow of his throat, and I can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. I could fall down and worship whatever god invented the v-neck. 

I don’t fall to my knees, but I do lean forward and taste his skin. Salt floods my tongue. 

Sam’s hand runs up my back, cups the nape of my neck, and he doesn’t so much guide me as yank, tilting my head to meet the rough urgent sting of his teeth and the soft slide of his tongue. I groan into his mouth, and his hands flatten at the small of my back, pulling me impossibly closer. I want to shove myself against him until I can burrow under his skin. 

His mouth. He nips and sucks and explores, lips on mine with crushing force one second, whisper-sweet the next. 

I’m melting. I must be melting. 

I hold on for dear life, delirious, drunk on the way he’s kissing me. I’ve imagined this before, but I never imagined it like this. 

We’re still dancing, or something like it anyway; his hips swivel, and I rut against him, my entire body throbbing with animalistic need. Sam shifts his weight, grinding against me, and I can feel the fat stiff length of him right up against my center. I whimper, desperate and wanton. 

One hand slides up my back, around my ribs, up, until he can trace the curve of my breast with his thumb and then pinch my nipple through my bra. When I buck against him, he does it again. My knees don’t want to support me any more. 

I’m a half-second away from coming just like this. I’m shaking. 

“The fuck are we doing?” Sam says roughly. He nips my earlobe.

“Not thinking, remember?” I snap, and then I’m stumbling back, almost falling, tugging him by the wrist as I start to weave through the crushing press of bodies. My heart is pounding. Everything blurs together. My skin feels too cold without him all over it. 

There’s one open bathroom, no line, no reason to hesitate. The heavy door closes behind us and the deadbolt slides home with a metallic echoing thud. 

He’s already crowding me back, hands on my cheeks, tip of his nose brushing mine. I grab at the front of his shirt, fingers twisting in the sweat-damp fabric. My ass hits the counter and I surge up clumsily to kiss him. The angle’s off; our teeth clack together. 

We laugh and fit ourselves back together, bodies like puzzle pieces in that fucking song Sam would never admit he loves, and I could cry with relief at the way he feels under my hands. I can feel him breathing, the harsh rise and fall of his chest, and I can feel the heat of him, blood and sweat and bone, solid and real and here and mine, at least for tonight. 

He fumbles with the button of my jeans and kisses me like he’s drowning. Then he curls two long fingers up and into me, grinding the heel of his hand against my clit. I lean back, heels skidding on the dirty tile as I try to brace myself and rock my hips up all at once. 

“Need you to fuck me,” I bite out, remarkably steady considering the way I’m trembling. 

“You gonna regret this tomorrow?” Sam asks. He twists his fingers, knuckles stretching me open, so good my eyes roll back in my head. 

Tomorrow… we’re not going to think about tomorrow. 

“Might regret waiting this long,” I groan. Understatement of the century. 

“You ‘n me both. You sure?” He’s staring down at me and he looks wrecked: pupils blown, lips swollen, hair clinging to his temples where his skin is streaked with sweat. 

“Do you feel how close I am?” I grab his wrist with one hand, holding him there, fucking myself on his fingers as I try to pull my jeans down with the other hand. 

Sam’s mouth drops open and his eyes go unfocused for a second. Whatever self-control he had left is gone. He pulls his hand away, and I whine at the loss, but together we get my pants down, and I kick them off as he gets his belt open. He’s just as big as I always imagined, proportional to those sinfully long elegant fingers, and my mouth fucking waters as I watch him stroke himself. 

He bites his lip, chest heaving, and tugs me up onto the very edge of the grimy sink counter. Before I can find my balance he’s right there, hooking an arm under my knee so that he can spread my legs wider, and he’s guiding the hot velvety head of his cock down my center and in, and the slick blunt pressure of it makes me claw at his back, trying to get him closer even though I can barely handle how good that first thick inch feels. 

“Fuuu - unnhhhhh - fuck, Sam, I need…” I choke out, and then all I can do is pant breathlessly, incoherent, as he rocks his hips and starts to stretch me open. I’m helpless like this, no leverage to do anything but sit there and take it, and he moves so maddeningly slow that I’m going out of my skull. 

“God, look at you,” he breathes. “So fucking good. Always wondered what you’d look like taking my cock. Always imagined you begging. Are you gonna beg for me?” 

“If you don’t shut the fuck up and give it to me, Sam, I swear —” 

“Yeah?” he growls. He grips my hips hard enough to bruise.

I wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles together, leaning back on my hands, and then I can arch my back and pull him deeper, working myself onto his cock. 

“Sam —” I start, but before I can say anything else he slams home, grinding in hard and fast, and my voice cracks on a stuttering, incoherent whine. It’s blindingly good. He’s steely-hard and so goddamn thick I feel like I’m about to split open, like one wrong move is going to pull me apart. His first rolling thrust sparks this wrenching wave of pressure that fills me up and shakes me down to the tips of my toes, my entire body rippling with feverish heat. 

“That’s my girl,” he pants. He pulls me against him and twists up, rough and filthy, and I shudder against him, writhing, mindless and overwhelmed. 

“Sam,” I choke out. My voice is high-pitched and squeaky-thin, and the next sharp thrust makes me forget whatever I was going to say beyond, “Nnnnhhhhhyesohgod.” 

“There?” 

“Fuck. Yes.” 

He moans, low and broken, and finds that perfect spot again, grinding into it with eye-popping force.

I can feel it, pleasure cramping through me with every movement, coiling up, building around the deep throbbing ache where he’s fucking into me. I feel like a wild animal, primal and lost.

“Good girl. Fuck, feels so good.”

I clutch at his shoulders, muscles quaking, burying my face in his neck as all that white-hot pressure peaks inside me. I let out an ugly, anguished sob, can’t hold it back, and then all I can feel is the all-consuming spasm of my orgasm, tension rocketing through every inch of me, sending me out into space for a long paralyzed moment. The first pulse of it is so scary-intense that I can’t breathe, can’t control myself, can’t keep track of my own body… 

Then it all comes back at once, and I’m exquisitely aware of Sam against me as he fucks me through it, hips surging forward as I squeeze around him and urge him deeper. 

“Thought about this so many times,” he’s confessing, ragged and raw. 

“Me too,” I gasp.  

He sucks in a shaky breath, moving slower as I start to come down, and I can feel him holding back now. “Think about you so fucking much, I can’t —”

“Me fucking too, Sam.”

He kisses me, gentle in a way that could very easily destroy me. 

“This isn’t how it was supposed to go,” he whispers, forehead sweaty where it rests against mine.  

“Fuck, Sam, don’t — this is —” 

I feel so strange and strung-out, caught between the shivery aftershocks in my belly and the startling tenderness in his voice as he mumbles, “Wanted to take my time.”

“Sam.” 

“Wanted to take my time with you,” he repeats. He moves against me with this slow, snakelike undulation. “Wanted to lay you out and kiss you everywhere and fucking worship you.” 

“We can. We can — I want that.” 

“Never gonna be enough,” he chokes out. “I knew — I knew, if I did this, I’d never want to stop.”

My skin is lit up with the feel of him, liquid heat gathering in my gut as my body responds to every perfect touch, but I’m afraid my ribcage is about to split open with the way my heart is hammering. 

We’re in a goddamn dive bar bathroom, for fuck’s sake, and I’m fucked up, and maybe this will feel cheap and tawdry and silly in the morning, but… somehow I don’t think it will. Somehow this feels like the most important thing that’s ever happened to me. 

“Why’d we wait this long?” I ask. There’s an embarrassing wobble in my voice. 

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” he grits out. “Because I was scared.” Before I can respond, he kisses me, all teeth and desperation, twisting his hips and swallowing my moan. He slides his hands under my shirt, sliding them up my back, and drags his fingernails down in trails of stinging heat. It’s pleasure and pain and fucking obliteration, and the sensory overload has me spiraling out again. 

“Fuck that,” I half-laugh. My back arches and my voice breaks, and I bite his lip hard enough that I taste copper. 

He groans, full-throated and shameless, and ducks his head, sinking his teeth into the sweat-slick curve of my neck. He sucks, nibbles, and it sets off fireworks behind my eyelids. 

“Close, Sam. So close,” I babble, breathing harsh and heavy. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull, and I can feel him moan. “Never thought it’d feel like this. It’s — this is so much better —” 

He shudders against me, lets out this long, guttural sound, and then he shifts and pounds into me harder, and all I can do is cling to him, pulling him closer like I’m never going to let go. “C’mon, then. Fuck. Tell me what you want.” 

“Please, Sam. Just — please. Please.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” he growls. “You know that, right?” 

“Anything?” 

“Anything.” 

“Don’t leave me,” I blurt out, as the unbearable tension starts to crest. “Don’t leave me, Sam. Please.” 

I know he hears it. He gasps like I punched him. I can feel him jerk, twitch, fingers clawing at my back, cock twitching and swelling inside me as he starts to come. I bite down on the meat of his shoulder as I let go. My orgasm feels like it’s ripping something loose, an earthquake in my core, and I don’t trust myself not to say exactly what’s on my mind. There’s a surge of pleasure, one glowing wave of it then another, and I’m dimly aware of shuddering against Sam as he rocks into me one more time, clutching him close… as if I could get close enough to keep him here with me. 

It’s impossible to be sad right now. I’m chemically incapable of sadness, still soaring high, but this is so much bigger than sadness anyway. I just feel like I’m about to break. 

“That,” he says, with an ugly sound, half-laugh, half-sob. “That’s what I was afraid of. That I wouldn’t ever want to leave.” 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Let’s just — let’s not think about it. Okay? Can we go back to the motel and — can we do that again? Take our time?” 

“Just for tonight?” he asks raggedly. 

“Just for tonight. We’re not going to think about what comes next.” 

He nods. We both know it’s a lie. 

,

,

,

#sam winchester smut #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader smut #supernatural #spn fic

[omegatheunknown]

AEW Double or Nothing 2021

In which the spirit of WCW is alive in confusing and delightful ways and we are left to parse whether overbooking and extracurriculars are offset by having actually very good wrestling happening at the same time.

- Lessons learned from Revolution on the production side? Maybe just cool it on pyro, though the rappelling adventure in the Stadium Stampede showed some of that now-characteristic 'trust us it'll look better on TV' flair. Hot crowd tends to paper over most woes, and the crowd was pretty hot. My one gripe is that the casino theme is hanging around like yesterday's takeout containers. Nothing wrong with clinging to a theme, I just think it's time for season 2. My suggestion? Under the Sea.

*Pre-Card Serena Deeb (C) v Riho for the NWA Women's Championship (***1/2) - Serena Deeb's star has finally risen. She's a remarkably consistent technician and she can get a match out of anyone at this point. She's working at the level of Mercedes Martinez or Madison Eagles at this point, it's amazing that she was overlooked or considered fit only to be a coach for so long. With the NWA belt she has this new swagger, she's basically everything Tessa Blanchard might bring to the table with none of the downsides (Serena has a lot of friends and seems like a lovely person, even!) - Riho's back and here to stay. Her time in Stardom didn't do much for my evaluation of her, which is that there are many better wrestlers that would be better representatives of the joshi style and she's merely pretty good. - The match was very good. Serena showcased a champion's aggression against a sympathetic Riho, they really work well against each other, Deeb's technical prowess against Riho's flexibility led to a very dynamic finish.

*Main Card Hangman Adam Page v Brian Cage (***1/2) - Here the shenanigans start. Brian Cage is on Team Taz, Team Taz has nothing else much to do tonight, so why wouldn't Team Taz flex their muscles, bait us with HOOK, etc? (Because it would be nice to have some variety in the card in terms of a match where one competitor stands across from another competitor?) - Hangman is (checking notes) yeah, still over as fuck, as befits the Anxious Millennial Cowboy. Cage terrifies me, he's a child's drawing of a body builder. He do be very agile for a man of his immense musculature tho. They match up well, Page is biggish for a flyer, Cage loves to play catch. Nothing much to write home about, other than Hangman's beautiful moonsault to the floor and what was overall a very good curtain jerker. - Okay fine, I am curious about Cage's reluctance to lean on the goons, Starks can't come back soon enough.

The Young Bucks v Jon Moxley & Eddie Kingston (***) - I will not be referring to Mox & Eddie as (The) Wild Things because it gives me 'he calls it the wacky line' flashbacks for some reason. - The Bucks have to cheat and abuse Rick Knox's attention span constantly to be on even footing with Mox & Eddie, which is a clever sort of thing that gets washed out by the appearance of LG and Karl Anderson, which again, is cool in a vacuum but was the story of the evening. - Pace was weird - repetitive in eliminating Eddie, then Mox fights back, failed hope spot, Bucks team up, Eddie saves x2/3 in a row. - Mox, unlike Cody (in so many ways,) will probably actually be taking some time off with Renee, which is the kind of thing I would prefer not to know in terms of booking, but they really uh, put him down on the canvas here, and it felt pretty finale-esque.

Casino Battle Royale (n/r, but on the balance pro) - Any changes to the theme of the PPV would likely include changing up the nonsense suit format of these largely joyless slogs. - Obviously anticipating a NJPW talent, or... I dunno, actually -- Lio Rush was a surprise. Got in a quick demonstration of his otherworldly quickness, and you know what, there's probably a fun place for him in AEW. He'll need some friends, of course, feel like Team Taz might fit his temperament. I wonder if he was aware of the Mark Henry news... - Christian does not need to win this kind of match to get a title shot, obviously, but that said it was super lovely to use him to give Jungle Boy the shine. Jungle Boy would be a license to print money if he was even as big as Hangman. - Could register some continued griping about how Penta is not getting his due in AEW but he also literally was dressed as the Joker so I'm low on sympathy on this one particular night.

Anthony Ogogo v Cody Rhodes (*) - I did not like this. It's hard for me to read jingoism as a face move to begin with, and Cody's was egregiously tone deaf and kinda silly yet delivered without a trace of irony because Cody doesn't do irony on purpose, ridiculous neck tattoo aside. - Great argument to be made that Ogogo just isn't experienced enough to be winning matches against Cody. But like, what are we doing here? Cody needs to take some time off, maybe. I thought that's what was happening when he had his mini feud with Penta that really just ended in quick decisive Cody win. I though maybe Cody was being turned when QT and The Factory snapped-- sure, they're a group of impotent player 2s, but Cody is an out of touch elitist with a callous and manipulative streak. Alas, also no. America #1. - Cody is approximately 8 times as tough as Billy Gunn based on his weathering of the one punch man. Match ran a bit long given how little there was to go on. Cody gigged? Quelle surprise. - Cody had the best match on the card like, 3 out of the first 4 AEW events or something, and that was all booking and storytelling. I do hope Cody follows Moxley's lead into a little sabbatical.

Miro (C) v Lance Archer for the TNT Championship (**1/2) - Card's hossiest hoss match, a quick burst reminiscent of a car wreck. Absolutely hit on what it should've hit on but a little slow moving considering it went all of 10 minutes. - I will not complain about Jake the Snake, who I love. And also the gimmick spot, with Miro very astutely yeeting what was definitely a snake in a bag (surely.) back down the tunnel.

Dr Britt Baker, DMD v Hikaru Shida (C) for the AEW Women's Championship (***) - Picked up a lot of steam toward the end but seemed a little toothless (heh) until the last five. - Shida 'deserved' some more time as champion in front of crowds but also it's time to let heel Britt reach her peak, I can't even imagine how obnoxious she can be as the champ, it's going to be great.

Sting & Darby Allin v Ethan Page & Scorpio Sky (***1/2) - Such is the power of STING that I feel like I might be underrating this match... I mean it was an okay match about very simply getting some revenge and the sixty year old man did a very subdued Code Red and a slightly less subdued dive. He's also Sting. They missed an opportunity in calling it the 'Scorpio' Death Drop, but the main takeaway here is you see something like this where it's The Icon and you start to understand why WWE trots out their legends to come out of incredibly still kick ass without bending their knees. - The difference, I guess, is that Sting is absolutely being used to build up Darby Allin, whereas it's not like the fed brought back Goldberg and his attendant aura to pump up... anyone but Goldberg?

Kenny Omega (C) v PAC v Orange Cassidy for the AEW World Championship (****) - Off the top I have to say I'm very sad that the rest of the Galaxy's Greatest Friends were seen only very briefly, nice of them to bring OC's backpack. - Also have to point out that PAC's promo featured one of my favourite jokes, that Kenny must be short for Kenneth as a sort of legal/birth name belonging to a professional wrestler. (See also: Samoa Joseph) - And Mr Cassidy certainly did try in this match, ragdoll sells and all. Kenneth and PAC are absurd talents who bring aerial, power and technical maneuvers in equal measure and OC is not doing any of those on the same level, but he picked his spots, showed his genre savvy and hung in there to the point that he wasn't just the fall guy. - The extracurriculars continue in a match that was already a little overboard for silliness due to asymmetry... I think if you're the Invisible Hand it would've made sense to save up all your tricks for this match, but who am I to question the golden goose? - Sure, Kenny and Don ran the classic heel manager interference spot and taking out the ref in desperation spot but having to take out the ref because PAC wouldn't break the hold is fun, as is the stupid/inspired sense in running the 'smash opponent with the belt' spot four times so as none of your heavy gold prizes feel left out. (I love that AAA Mega Championship, they weren't on TV so we get to see it?) - "Fuck You, Don," indeed.

The Inner Circle v The Pinnacle in 'Stadium Stampede II' (***1/2) - This one had to grow on me for two reasons, first that it's usually pretty unforgivable to co-opt the main event spot from the championship match, and second to law of diminishing returns on dumb gimmick matches. - But grow it did. There's a full on meat locker? Commentary will refer to a cardboard cut-out of Shahid Khan as Tony Khan's father (that's canon now,) and Jericho will lovingly pat it? Konnan happened to be the DJ at whatever night club there is a Jaguar Stadium? Spears surrounds himself dramatically with chairs and his hoisted by his own petard? - Ultimately it comes down to letting Sammy shine. His involvement with the Inner Circle has sometimes come at the cost of being able to showcase that prior to AEW he was an ascendant talent in PWG, on his way to Ricochet level feats of acrobatic excess. Still feel like Sammy could've/should've been the one tossed off the cage a few weeks ago, but even better is being the guy getting the pin in the ring.

#aew #aew double or nothing #kenny omega #jon moxley #sting #chris jericho #mjf #Sammy Guevara #orange cassidy #PAC #hikaru shida #britt baker #jungle boy #christian cage #darby allin #ethan page #scorpio sky #hangman page #brian cage #miro #lance archer #jake the snake #cody rhodes #anthony ogogo #eddie kingston #the young bucks #serena deeb #riho #wrestling reviews #aew spoilers

[eternalgoldfish]

u got me so horny (part one) | (part two) | (part three) | (part four) | (part five) | (part six) | (part seven) | (now all on AO3)

Steve wakes in Billy’s bed.

Steve never wakes in Billy’s bed.

But the sun is shining, and Steve’s eyes are crusted with sleep, and Billy’s back is warm and solid where it’s pressed against his, their legs touching, Billy’s dorm-issued twin-sized bed hardly large enough for one full-grown man, let alone two. Steve doesn’t remember getting under the covers, or Billy wishing him goodnight.

But the sun is shining, and Steve wonders what Billy would do if Steve rolled over an tucked an arm around his waist, pressed kisses into his neck. Steve wonders what Billy would do if Steve curled them together and called him baby.

They’re wearing underwear, so at some point, they got out of bed. 

It’s not that Steve doesn’t remember anything. He remembers sitting in Billy’s car -- almost jerking off in Billy’s car. He remembers whining against Billy’s lips with Billy inside him -- Billy’s hot thighs between Steve’s legs, Billy’s fingernails digging into Steve’s hips.

He remembers falling on Billy, which. The universe couldn’t have let him get away with one bit of dignity in all that, huh? 

Up until that point, he thought he’d been doing pretty fucking well, thank you very much.

Billy’d laughed and laughed, and pulled Steve on his side, and jerked Steve off until Steve was gasping and coming, toes curling, feeling drunk, and eager, and toomuchnotenoughpleasedon’tstop.

There’s just a gap in time there, clearly, because fucking into Billy’s fist doesn’t equate to waking up in his sheets.

So, Steve stays like that, back to back with Billy, wonders how much time he has until Billy wakes up, asks him to leave. Wonders how it could go if he pressed a kiss to Billy’s shoulder, danced his fingers over Billy’s arm hair, flicked his foot a certain way. Unlikely butterfly theory shit, and all that. 

Then Billy fucking rolls over and wraps an arm around him, giving him a sleepy squeeze. “Dude, why’re you still here?” Billy asks.

And that’s a fucking mixed signal, Jesus Christ. But Steve has been thinking exactly the same thing, so, “If you didn’t want me to stay--”

“What?” Billy lets go of him and sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. His bun is a lop-sided disaster, but the pendent resting against his chest is gold. “It’s Friday,” he says. “You have economics at ten, or whatever, don’t you?”

And Steve does, but.

“Fuck,” Steve gets out of bed and scrabbles for his phone in his jeans, says, “Fuck,” because it’s nine forty-two.

“Bye?” Billy offers.

“Fuck.”

---

Steve’s skipped classes before, but the thing is, his mom has been wild lately about his grades, and he’s kind of bombing economics, so it’s kind of fucking important that he gets there on time, and that he actually fucking listens and takes notes, and behaves.

He’s five minutes late, but he gets there, which is kind of the point.

Not that his mind is on economics.

He’s too hung over, too weirdly wired. There’s something under his skin that he can’t itch, and for once it’s not his dick chubbing up in his jeans because Billy is sending him nudes before lunchtime. 

(Although his phone does keep lighting up, so.)

(He thinks it’s maybe his heart chubbing up, and that’s definitely not good for his cholesterol, or the sticky notes left on Billy’s door, or what he’s supposed to tell his parents when they ask about his love life at Christmas.)

When he checks his phone, there are no nudes, just two texts that say,

found ur thong princess

goin 2 jerk off w it

And Steve has no fucking clue what he could have even left at Billy’s, but it definitely wasn’t a thong. He actually doesn’t even think it’s anything, just another one of Billy’s weird ways of making him fuck up in class, but it still twists something in Steve’s chest, something weird-bad. Like thinking about Billy’s other guys when they fuck -- and other girls, apparently, girls who wear thongs, so.

Steve texts back, Not mine, sorry, must be your mom’s. 

Billy doesn’t text back a long while, so like, maybe he’s blown his load, or maybe he just thinks Steve is boring for not playing along. Whatever. Steve has like, actual things he needs to be doing.

But with half an hour left in class, Steve’s phone finally lights up, like, My mom left when I was ten.

And well. What? What? Steve didn’t know that, doesn’t even know how Billy feels about that, like, if he’s angry, or upset, or fucking like, anything. He tries to scroll up through their conversations looking for an answer, but he’s coming up with nothing, just raunchy one-liners and sweaty dick picks. Billy’s barbed wire and crucifix, sandy skin, golden hair.

He doesn’t know a fucking thing about Billy. 

How Billy’s dick tastes doesn’t count.

---

Steve doesn’t know what to say, so he just doesn’t. Like a fucking coward. He slinks to the library after class like maybe things’ll just work out if he lets them cook for a while. Like maybe all the weirdness from this morning will gloss over if he pretends it didn’t happen.

No cigar.

Billy flops into the chair across the table from him like this is nothing, normal, and Steve guesses it is, because they do study together, sometimes, but not together-together, so. Billy’s not even taking out his books, just tipping his head slightly and running his tongue over his teeth.

“Sorry?” Steve offers, like a moron.

Billy scrunches up his nose. “Sorry for what?”

And Steve doesn’t really know, so. 

After a pause, Billy huffs and pushes back his hair. He’s got tacky diamond studs in his ears, the kind that make Steve want to tug on them with his teeth, see what they’re really made out of. Billy crosses his arms, says, “Guess I didn’t tell you about my fucked up family, then?” and they might as well be in the fucking Twilight Zone.

“No, uh,” Steve clears his throat, winces slightly. “We haven’t really had time?” Between all fucking. Yikes.

“Well,” Billy sneers, like, “My mom flaked, my dad is an abusive asshole, my step-mom might as well be a cardboard cut-out of a human, and my step-sister is a huge fucking bitch. I don’t want to talk about it.”

The thing is, in person, Steve can’t just leave Billy on read when he doesn’t know what the fuck to say, so he’s stuck just kind of staring, mouth partly open, running through all the whats and whys and hows. Processing months knowing Billy, fucking Billy after a party, waking up in Billy’s arms, and now whatever the fuck this is.

“You know what, fuck this.”

“Wait--” Steve snaps his books shut as Billy gets to his feet. “Sorry? Just. Sorry, I guess. Fuck. I just didn’t know what to say to that earlier, you know? A thong? That text might not have even been for me.”

“Who else could it have fucking been for?”

“I don’t know? Someone else you’re--”

Billy laughs, kind of mean. “I’m not hooking up with anyone else, you idiot. What was it you said, I ‘haven’t really had time’? I could have had anyone I wanted at that party.”

And Steve knows that, even though Billy is contradicting himself. Knowing it’s not making it any fucking better. Kind of just makes Steve want to die.

“But you wanted to fuck me.”

“Yeah, I wanted to fuck you.”

They’re talking way too loud for being in the quiet study zone.

“Do you want to fuck me right now?”

“I kind of want to punch your face in.”

Steve lets out a slow breath. “Cool, so we’re just back in fucking September again.”

Billy snatches his keys from where he threw them on the table and grabs his bag from the floor. “Shut the fuck up, come on.”

But Billy doesn’t punch him when they get outside the building, like he might have in September. He crowds Steve up against the wall, pushes Steve’s shoulders until his head hits brick. With the way the stairs jut out, there is just enough space between them and the hedges that they probably won’t get seen, and Steve’s worried about no one finding his corpse for about five seconds before Billy’s lips are on his, kisses all clicking teeth and fingers digging into his sweater.

It should make him angry.

It’s kind of erotic.

(It’s kind of confusing, but Billy’s slipping his hand into his sweatpants, and they’re kind of in public, and Steve really doesn’t need a criminal history, but)

He bucks against Billy’s palm, wants his hands on Billy’s skin. Wants to think this is maybe a solution, with Billy’s teeth grazing over his neck, Billy laughing softly in his ear.

“You like to get off in public?” he asks, and Steve is pretty positive he’s shut that down about a million times, but Billy’s kissing him in earnest, playing with his cock, and well.

Steve can’t exactly hide how fucking hard he is when things are already this far gone.

“You got something to say to me, Pretty Boy?”

Steve tugs on Billy’s hair. “Like what?”

“A sorry, maybe, since I’m being so forgiving.”

“I said sorry,” but it’s shaky, kind of airy. “If the campus police--”

“Guess you better be quick, then.”

And Billy is confusing, disgusting, infuriating, gorgeous, and Steve is a complete dumbass, so he whines, “C’mon, I’ll blow you in my room--” which absolutely does not work.

“Or you could blow me here.”

Which Steve is definitely not going to do, but the idea makes his breath catch, has him moaning softly as Billy tugs on his bottom lip. Faintly, he realizes he had more resolve when he was drunk than he does now, and that’s not something he really wants to investigate, not when he’s unzipping Billy’s jeans and jerking Billy in return, heart thumping and skin tingling each time the library door opens and slams shut.

Billy’s teeth are on his cheek, breathing hot in his ear, murmuring, “Someone is going to hear you,” like Billy isn’t also making noise with every breath, fucking into Steve’s hand like they’re on a clock. Like he’s trying to get Steve’s hand fucking pregnant.

“Sorry,” Steve says, mostly a gasp. “Sorry, sorry.”

Meaningless. Billy doesn’t need it, can’t with how smug he is when Steve comes first, with how he almost breaks their cover laughing when he wipes Steve’s come on the inside of Steve’s sweatpants. He comes with his nose in Steve’s neck, hands gripping Steve’s hips, and it’s. 

Well, it’s kind of mortifying.

But Billy is laughing again, knocking away Steve’s hand so he can fix himself back in his jeans, and Steve should be angry, but.

“What was that about blowing me on your rich boy sheets?” Billy asks.

They have to change their pants now anyway.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things fanficton #my fic #does anyone even remember that i WRITE THESE i am sorry

[imnotasuperhero]

I’ll be waiting (for when you love me again)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Type: angsty fluff?

Summary: Natasha can’t accept the fact you decided to break up with her. Even if she understood your reasons. She knew there was much more in store for the both of you. Together.

Wordcount: 1178

A/N: @nowthisisliving27 requested for a happier continuation of this angsty fic, but like.. asking for help, @jumbojamba47 suggested I’ll be waiting by Adele and well.. this is the result. Lol. Let me know if you guys want a part 3! (:

A/N n2: Not sure this is the right ending I wanted, but after hiting a wall for so long, I decided to embrace it and share it before I deleted the whole thing. Lmao.

The last time Natasha saw you, it was one of the most painful moments she'd endured so far. The fact she had to let you go away so you could find yourself again, was paining her in indescribable ways. If she'd just paid more attention. If she'd just kept you close, showing you that she cared.

How could she be in peace, knowing she let you slip away? How could she be nice with herself, knowing that she contributed to your insecurities? Even if you reassured her over and over that it was your battle and you couldn't drag her down with you. But little did you know Natasha would go to the confines of Hell just to be with you. 

She could still feel the way you felt against her. The softness of your skin under her touch. The soft sighs you'd let out whenever she ran her nails against your upper arms in those lazy days when you got to be in your bed all day. Fully clothed or naked, but together.

It's been a month since you went on a vacation, ready to rediscover yourself and eager to use the pilled up permits to skip work.

A part of her was eager to see you, to witness your happiness as you told her all the things you did and all the places you've got to visit. She wanted nothing else than to see the shine in your eyes when you talked about what you enjoyed the most, the way you'd wrinkle your nose or frown when you talked about your less favorite parts. She wanted to be the one you ranted to. But the realistic part of her made her understand that she couldn't. She didn't have the right. At least, not until you allowed her to. And there was nothing she could do other than wait. As long as it took you.

Days turned into months. The only information she had about your wellbeing was because she decided to give in and use her spy skills on you. And she'd be lying if she didn't felt like a perv, following you around like a stalker. But if you weren't giving her updates, she must get them herself.

That's how the night found her on the rooftop of the building in front of yours. The binoculars on her hands showing you on your couch, probably watching the latest episode of your favorite TV show. Her heart squeezed when she spotted her old t-shirt covering your body, increasing the hope she was feeling inside. What would she give to have you in her arms again, cuddling and just basking in each other's warmth. She knew if -when- you were to have her again, she had to be better. She had to own the pleasure of calling you hers.

After what seemed hours later, she finally plopped down under the covers. But no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she tossed and rolled in bed, sleep wouldn't visit. Her mind still running wild with ideas to make it happen. God, she was so tempted to ask Tony to fund her so she could get one of those dumb planes to get the whole New York City to know she loved you.

Making her peace with the fact that it was too late now, she quickly changed into workout clothes and headed for the gym. Hopefully, she could nap after.

"You still here?" 

Bucky's voice took Natasha out of her reverie, making her stop mid-jab against the target. Looking at the gym's doors, she frowned at the super soldier walking over to her.

"I just came here," Natasha leaned her head in confusion.

"Nat, it's 10 am. JARVIS told me you've been here since dawn," he chuckled.

Looking around, she could see that in fact, the lights were off, and the sun was shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminating the whole room.

"Fuck," she's been here for 5 hours.

"What's wrong?" Bucky leaned against the press, blue eyes meeting green. And Natasha knew she couldn't lie to him. 

"I've been dating this person," Natasha paused licking her lips. Why was her mouth so dry so suddenly? "I- She saw us. When we were undercover." She couldn't help the questioning glaze anymore, so she moved her eyes to the blue sky outside. 

"We've been together for 7 months. We- I really love her, Bucks," she looked up when she felt a strong hand on her shoulder.

"Does she knows that?" 

"She does. I- Is not because we don't love each other," she sipped on her water. "I hid her," she confessed. "I hid her and I wasn't there for her and-"

"And you need to make your peace with it." Natasha could hear the laugh in his voice and she wanted to spar with him just to kick it off. "I won't pry and demand you to tell me everything. But I do ask of you to work it out. If you really love her, then don't let her go away."

Natasha mulled his words over and over, trying to come up with a plan. She needed to step her game up. You both were too good to end this way.

It wasn't until she saw you in the café -pure coincidence this time- that she finally made up her mind. She'll win you over and she'll shout at the top of her lungs that you were hers.

"Nat, hi." You smiled something painful and Natasha couldn't help the frown taking over her.

"Y/N, is nice to see you," she smiled honestly, hoping you could see it. "I-"

"You-"

You both cut each other mid-talk, laughing sheepishly.

"I'm sorry. You go first." Always the gentlewoman, Nat nodded for you to continue.

"Umm... I was wondering if you... maybe... Ugh, I'm such a mess," you laughed and Natasha couldn't help her jumping heart threatening to escape her chest.

"You might be a mess, but I wouldn't have it any other way." She high-fived herself mentally at the blushing of your cheeks. 'Smooth, dude' she smirked to herself.

"You're mean. I'm trying to be serious here," you pouted and Natasha was dying to kiss it away. But she knew better. 

"I'm sorry. I'll shut up now," she mimicked zipping her lips and your laugh filled her ears, making her wish she could hear your laugh for the rest of her life.

"Anywaaays," you rolled your eyes at her antics. "I was wondering if you wanted to sit with me? If you're free, I mean."

"I am free and I'd love to share this afternoon with you," she winked at you, repressing a laugh as you grumbled under your breath. "Go pick a table and I'll be there soon," she gestured to the back of the café as she walked towards the barista. 

She couldn't help the smile breaking her face at the outcome of this day. Maybe this wasn't the end, after all. And she was certain she'll make things different. This time, she'll be better for you.

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

Taglist: @marvelfansince08love @wannabe-fic-reader @natasha-danvers @rooskaya-yelena @sananabdliw @aaron-despair @username23345 @nate-the-dreamer @higherfurther-romanova

#natasha romanoff x reader #it's finally done #my writing

[rigmarolling]

Myth Time: Loki and the Goat

Once upon a time, the ice giantess/goddess/resident “I-have-no-indoor-voice friend” Skadi was upset about Asgard killing her dad, so she kicked down the door to their victory party and went, “WHO’S THE LITTLE PISSANT WHO KILLED MY FATHER?”

Everyone just stared, mouths full of feast food, and pointed to Loki like

And Loki went

Skadi glowered, axe in hand and went, “If you people don’t FIX this IMMEDIATELY, heads will roll, and by heads, I specifically mean--” and she swung her head in a certain jötunn’s direction-- “that head.”

And Loki was like

Odin immediately went into PR cleanup mode and said, “You’re right--we’re either advertently or inadvertently responsible for the death of your father. What is it that you want?”

And Skadi leaned in and hissed between her teeth, “I want blood.”

Odin, who generally preferred to be literally anywhere else about 95% of the time, went 

and said, “Right, well, we’re in the middle of something right now, so besides bloodshed, what can we do to make reparations?”

Skadi narrowed her eyes. Sniffed. Looked around imperiously at the idiots with mouths full of mutton, and said, “I want three things.”

“Name them,” Odin said.

Skadi propped her axe against the wall, straightened up, and looked down at Odin through her frosted eyelashes.

“One,” she said, “I want you to cast my father’s eyes into the sky so they will be immortalized as eternal, shining stars.”

Odin went

but did it, anyway, because everyone’s got their quirks; who was he to judge?

Then, brushing the eyeball goo off of his hands, Odin asked, “What’s the second thing?”

Skadi sniffed.

“Secondly, I demand that one of you makes me laugh.”

The gods shifted in their seats. If they weren’t nervous before, they absolutely were now, because Skadi never laughed. Like, ever. 

“Skadi never laughs,” Thor muttered in disbelief. “Like, ever.”

Skadi’s head swiveled in his direction. “Did you say something, you walking sausage roll?”

Thor quickly swallowed the bite of pie he’d been chewing. “No, no. Nothing.”

“My liege lady,” Odin said quickly, his tone suddenly silken. “Why not something...simpler? We wouldn’t want to insult you with lukewarm attempts at humor, after all--”

“Someone,” Skadi declared imperiously, “had better make me laugh, or I swear by the Norns, I will garrote each and every one of you with your own intestines while your children watch on the sidelines and weep for their gutless progenitors!”

Thor blinked and went,

But they had no choice. So, sweating slightly and fighting back anxiety pee, the gods each took their turn trying to make Skadi laugh. 

Tyr, the god of war, tried some biting political satire. Skadi didn’t even blink.

Idunn, the goddess of youth, rattled off a few celebrity impressions, but was really more of a “behind the scenes” sort of gal, so Skadi remained stone-faced.

Baldr quoted a few lines from The Importance of Being Earnest, but nobody knew what the hell he was talking about or who the hell Oscar Wilde was, so that was bust.

Thor tried his hand at that one “orange you glad I didn’t say banana” knock knock joke that you thought was the pinnacle of comedy when you were five, but he blew it three times before Skadi shot him a look that could have incinerated steel and he hurried back to his seat.

Frigg, goddess of foresight, tossed out a few legitimately great quips about tech culture in Silicon Valley, but being the goddess of foresight generally meant that she was the only one who would get her references for at least 1,000 years. Skadi, flummoxed, simply scowled.

There was enough awful improv to make even that insufferable guy in your college lit class cringe; there was bad, white-dad-at-a-wedding dancing; there were ham-fisted attempts at stand up, but very few gods understood the concept of “setup and payoff,” so every single bit flopped like a dead fish. 

Skadi was growing more and more irritable by the second. Her mouth had all but disappeared into a thin line, and her fingers had started twitching, which usually meant she was either bored or hadn’t punched anything in at least an hour.

Worst of all, mid-way through Bragi’s frankly atrocious tagelharpa routine, Skadi had walked away, retrieved her axe, and sat it down next to her. 

Bragi, who wouldn’t have noticed a nuclear detonation if it exploded five feet away as long as he was in the middle of a performance, continued, undeterred.

Meanwhile, Loki had been watching from the sidelines, leaning up against an outer wall of the mead hall, his arms crossed, his jaw clenched.

By the time Bragi got to what had to be the 23rd verse, Loki went 

and made his way to where Bragi was going on about something to do with a wolf swallowing the sun, nothing important, and hissed, “Stop. Just stop. Just stop! Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with you people?”

Then, letting out a huff of frustration, he loped over to the nearby pasture-- which was full of livestock just minding their own business, they didn’t ask for any of this, really-- and whistled at a goat.

The goat, who on some instinctual level knew exactly what was about to happen because he’d been around Loki long enough to know that something always happened, let out a sigh and trotted over. 

Then, casting the goat a glance that clearly said, “I owe you one, buddy,” Loki pulled a rope seemingly out of nowhere and, with a look of determination that made everybody in the vicinity incredibly uneasy, dropped his pants.

“What the hell?” cried Freyja, goddess of love and war and death, how metal, love her.

But Loki was in full frat mode at this point. 

His goods swinging free for everyone to see, he tied one end of the rope around the goat’s horns.

And the other to his own testicles.

Immediately objecting to having himself tethered to balls that belonged to this guy of all people, the goat began to pull backwards.

Loki let out a thin whine, his face draining of all color, and stumbled forward.

The men in the group looked faintly nauseated. 

With a breathless sort of grunting sound, Loki tugged back, pulling the goat forward. But the goat was just done with this shit, oh my God, what the hell? and bucked backward with an indignant, “Baa!” 

Loki skittered forward again with a yelp and then hurled himself in the opposite direction, “baa-ing” right back. 

And on it went--the goat leaping back and pulling Loki balls-first with him, and Loki tugging back until the goat stumbled unceremoniously forward. 

At this point, the other gods and goddesses were howling with laughter and/or sympathy pain, and Loki had never known anything but suffering, holy shit, oh, God, I fucked up, I actually did it, I actually permanently fucked up this time for real, oh, sweet mother of God, this goat is the worst goat in the world, just--just the worst fucking goat, just a really, really bad fucking goat--

His vision spotty, his lower half engulfed with the sort of agony that was all-encompassing and obliterating and just oh my God, you’re a fucking idiot, you really, really are, Loki gave one last, mighty tug, roaring like a cat in heat, and the rope snapped, sending the goat skittering back and Loki tumbling, butt cheeks-first, right into Skadi’s lap.

There was a thick, heavy silence. Loki let out a series of noises that sounded like an anemic balloon slowly being deflated. 

And suddenly, Skadi began to laugh.

And laugh.

And laugh.

She laughed so hard, she had to screw her eyes shut to stem the flow of tears. She laughed so hard, she actually stopped making noise and took to wheezing, instead.  

In her lap, Loki had lost all sense of space and time and would have really liked to have thrown up, thanks, but to his credit, everyone else was laughing so hard, they’d all started to cry-wheeze, too, so he settled for rolling to the side in a fetal position and clutching his now grotesquely swollen balls, distantly thinking, “That’s showbiz, baby.”

“Well,” said Odin over the din of laughter, clapping his hands together and smiling despite himself, “that settles it, Skadi! We’ve made you laugh. Reparations are made, and no hard feelings, hmm?”

As abruptly as she’d started, Skadi suddenly stopped cackling. Her face, which only a second earlier had been stretched wide in a grin, collapsed back into Miranda Priestly coolness.

“No,” she bit out. “That does not settle it. I still require one more thing.”

Odin had known that; he’d simply hoped she’d been distracted enough that she’d forgotten.

*Narrator voice* she hadn’t.

“Of course.” Odin plastered on a smile and said between his teeth, “Name it.”

Something in Skadi’s glittering, cool eyes softened. Her gaze roved appraisingly over the gods gathered around her.

“I want a husband.”

The men assembled felt a collective scrotum twinge of apprehension.

From his place curled up on the ground, Loki wheezed, “Not it.”

#Mythtory #norse mythology #loki