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#49 palms
christophermtaylor · 7 months
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49 Palms Oasis, California
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ruporas · 9 months
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all I wanted was to save them... (ID in alt)
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wiirocku · 1 year
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Isaiah 49:16 (NKJV) - See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me.
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thomaswaynewolf · 6 months
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dwuerch-blog · 2 years
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God Inscribes Our Name
God Inscribes Our Name
I saw a friend write a phone number of someone on the palm of her hand. I’ve seen others write their grocery list on their hand. And, I remember when I was a kid in school, seeing some “cheaters” write the answers to test questions on the palms of their hands. I’ve been a fan of Max Lucado’s writings for years because he writes with a style that awakens my thought processes. Every time I read…
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marigoldenblooms · 29 days
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That's a Wrap - One Shot
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Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)
Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.
MINORS DNI - 18+
Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end. 
A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!
Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.
~~~
It was never fun when the producers came by. 
They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun. 
“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull-  though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.
You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!” 
Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-
 “Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”
“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart. 
The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.” 
“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her. 
Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go. 
They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda’s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..” 
The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”
Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit. 
You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”
 “Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”
 Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.” 
Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything-  “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”
The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…” 
Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs. 
The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt. 
The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-” 
Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front. 
Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.
Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.” 
Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.” 
------------------------------------------
Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.
Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work. 
Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together). 
However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough.  ~~~
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Revelation 7: Meaning of the Multitude
After so many disturbing images from the breaking of the seals, John was now swept up in a rapturous time of praise and thanksgiving, as the mighty multitude, the elders, all the angels, and the four living creatures exalted God, singing. #Revelation7
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revasserium · 3 months
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hello there !! I love reading your l&ds posts and I would like to request from prompt 1, stolen kisses + xavier please? thank you <3
send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble
49. stolen kisses
xavier; 1,009 words; fluff, gn!reader, no "y/n", xavier being cheeky
summary: a few stolen kisses
a/n: exactly what it says on the label; the lightest of spoilers for his veiled whispers card, but the literal lightest.
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001
In the forest, on the edge of the battlefield, with the remnants of smoke still filling the air; he tastes of sweat and sweetness, reassurance and regret — you press your palm to his chest and push slightly, gasping for breath as he pulls away.
“X-Xavier?”
He hums, licking his lips, his eyes wide and warm as he grins, reaching up to touch his mouth experimentally, as if uncertain of what he’d just done.
“Sorry — I just… suddenly wanted to…”
You blush, leaning in for another soft peck, shaking your head.
“It’s okay… I don’t mind.”
You squeak as he tugs you towards him, an arm now tight around your waist.
“Good… because I actually think I quite like it.”
002
On your couch the night after it rains, and you’re not drunk anymore but there’s something so steady and solid in the way he presses his lips to yours that somehow, when he pulls away, you wonder if the world is still spinning. Or maybe it’s just the way he makes you feel, how he twists your stomach and tangles in your laughter — how he leans in to press his forehead against yours, breathing you in.
“Feeling better?”
You nod, heat kissing up your spine as one of his hands drops to your waist to pull you closer.
“When I said you were being a little distant…” your words trail off as he lifts your chin with a finger, shaking his head.
“You don’t have to explain… I get it. And… I’ll do better,” he grins, leaning in again, pausing before his lips meet yours.
“Starting right now…” he says, and you can taste the promise, honey-sweet, right on the tip of his tongue.
003
On the pier, beneath the sparkling lights of the Linkon Tower, his lips warm against your cheek as he pulls you in. And by the time you turn to look at him with wide eyes, he’s turning back to the tower, pointing at the top.
“Isn’t it pretty?” he asks.
You smile, blushing as you lean up onto your tip toes and kiss his cheek as well.
“The prettiest,” you say, landing back on your feet.
He turns to face you again, something warm and unreadable in his eyes — they’re so blue, and up close, you start to realize that they’re a celestial phenomenon. They are the hearts and dreams of ancient stars, cast through the lens of a telescope pointed toward the deepest, darkest corners of space. They are endless in a way that only eyes can be. In them, you find galaxies; in them, you find yourself.
“Yeah… I think you are,” he says, unabashed as he bends down for a proper kiss, one that is less breath and more wanting, less search and more belonging. When he pulls back, you purse your lips and glance back at the tower.
“We missed the whole light show.”
Xavier shakes his head, “We got something better instead, didn’t we?”
004
When he finally comes home, bruises littering his torso like footprints in the snow. Your back pressed against the bedroom door, his fingers digging into the meat of your hips.
“X-Xavier?”
“I was —” his eyes are dark, his chest heaving as he swallows and tears his eyes away. His voice is harsh when he finally catches his breath, “There was a moment when… I thought —” he lets his head fall forward onto your shoulder, his grip on you slackening.
You reach up to wrap your arms around you, murmuring in his ear.
“I’m here… it’s alright…”
His arms snake around you, wrapping you in a tight embrace as he takes a deep breath, and then another. Faintly, you marvel to yourself that you can feel his heartbeat thumping against your chest, so much faster than its usual steady, almost terrifyingly slow rhythm. But now…
“I’m sorry… was I too harsh?” Xavier pulls back, his gaze softening as he looks you over.
You laugh, shaking your head, “No — and you’re the one who just got back from a difficult mission — c’mon, let me look at these injuries.”
You push him back onto the bed till he’s sitting, tugging open his shirt even as heat creeps up your cheeks. You try to focus on tending to his injuries, the smattering of cuts that lace his right arm, the dark bruise blossoming along his ribs. He holds still and quiet for most of it, but when you finish, he catches your hand as you try to reach for the first aid kit, spread open on the bed next to him.
Slowly, he tugs you up to press a kiss to the tender skin just inside of your wrist. Shivers skitter through you, setting your body ablaze with want as he looks down at you, kneeling before him. A hand comes up to cup your cheek, and then he’s pulling you forward again, falling back till you’re straddling his hips, his hair spread out beneath him like a halo of pure starlight.
“I’m fine,” he says, pressing your palm to his chest. And there, you can feel his heartbeat slowly steadying out to its usual rhythm. Ba-dump… ba-dump… ba-dump…
“I know,” you say, leaning forward to cage him in with your arms, one on either side of his face. He blinks up at you, his palms settling on your thighs as he traces abstract patterns into your skin.
“Good… then you don’t have to be so careful with me.”
“Was I?” you feel a thrill of desire tingle up your spine as he lets his hands wander up your legs to the hem of your nightshirt, “I didn’t notice.”
Xavier’s smile is sweet and indulgent as he pulls you down for another kiss, and then another —
“I notice everything you do… because I’ll always notice. Because… it’s you.”
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lovings4turn · 3 months
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୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 don't delete the kisses . . . (l.n.)
— you and lando walk a fine line between ‘just friends’ and something more. but sometimes, it seems like love just isn't meant for you (2.6k words)
+ mentions of drinking and clubs, a lot of miscommunication and pining but i promise it's somewhat fluffy. based on don't delete the kisses by wolf alice.
+ part two | divider from cafekitsune
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lando: where r u???? 02:43
lando: y/nnnn:(( 02:45
lando: charls told me you left 02:48
lando: get hmome safe 02:49
you didn't mean to pull an irish goodbye, honestly. but the club was far too loud, and you were nowhere near drunk enough to tolerate the remixed house music and overpriced drinks for any longer.
the easiest option was simply to slip out unnoticed, send a quick text to let everyone know you were okay, and head home alone. if you'd mention your wanting to leave early, no doubt at least three of your friends would decide to leave with you in solidarity, no matter how much you insisted they stay and enjoy their night. that way, everyone was happy.
after confirming that the car you were about to climb into was your uber, you sank into the plush seat, offering your driver a tired half-smile through his rear view mirror. you were thankful that he seemed to understand you weren’t quite in the mood for conversation, and the rest of the ride was silent save for the music playing from his radio.
pressing your forehead to the glass of the window, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you thought over the events of the night, replaying every last detail in your head.
it had all started with the fucking shirt. 
official galas and nice dinners meant that you were no stranger to lando wearing nice shirts, the sleeves cuffed and a tie usually hanging around his neck. but when lando greeted you with a hug, his ironically named black button-down unbuttoned to the point that it could be considered obscene, you almost forgot how to function. warm skin pressed against your own, and you hated yourself for realising just how perfectly you moulded against his chest. 
never had you been more thankful for the presence of max verstappen, whose offer of heading to the bar allowed you the perfect chance to slip away and regain your composure. the red bull driver made small talk with you as the bartender took your orders, and you responded politely, nodding when you were supposed to and laughing along to the odd joke. 
but like a moth to a flame, you couldn’t keep your eyes from falling back onto lando. 
somehow even in a packed, lively club, lando’s presence shone the brightest out of all the partygoers. worst of all, he didn’t even have to do anything special. he was simply standing there, nimble fingers wrapped around a cup that you assumed contained a vodka soda as he laughed with his friends. dark curls had started to slip into his eyes, whatever he’d used to style them clearly wearing off as he began to sweat a little. 
even doing nothing, he managed to look like he’d fallen from heaven right into your life. 
someone up there clearly had it out for you, as lando scanned the room and caught your eye. to look away would only incriminate you further, make it look like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t be, so you smiled. lando shot you a toothy grin back, eyes scrunched shut with the enthusiasm of it. 
a cold glass thrust into your palm stole away your attention, and you turned to meet the knowing smirk of max. he nursed his own drink, and one thick brow was raised in a silent question. though he never spoke, it was clear that he knew something was going on between you and lando.
maybe he didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe he truly didn’t care, but whatever the reason max didn’t vocalise any of his thoughts to you. he simply nodded back over to where your group was standing and gestured for you to walk ahead of him. as you made your way back to the group, you suppressed the urge to worry your bottom lip between your teeth.
to anyone else, the interaction wouldn’t be much to think about. max had caught you, what, smiling at your friend? it was hardly criminal activity. you were just overthinking, the rational part of your brain insisted. but the other part took max’s expression and ran with it.
if max had noticed you harboured certain feelings for lando, then who else had drawn the same conclusions? the last thing you wanted was to be caught staring longingly over at lando, stars in your eyes and a far away look. 
in circles like these, people talked, and where formula one drivers went, gossip’s eye was never far around the corner. you’d seen it happen before to other drivers, countless tweets and headlines about who they were caught talking to or dancing with, and the last thing you needed was the speculation of the public on your relationship with lando.
sobered by this thought, you brought the paper straw to your lips, taking a long sip of your gin and tonic and hoping the alcohol would calm you down a little. much to your relief, almost upon arrival you were dragged into a nonsensical conversation with george, alex and lily. george’s slurred speech and alex’s loud laughter granted you a distraction, though it would be a lie to say that your eyes didn’t constantly wander back to lando.
but the heart wants what it wants, and so you couldn’t ignore him forever.
not even a second after an upbeat, bass-heavy song reverberated through the club’s speakers did lando appear by your side, grinning wildly.
“y/n! i’ve been looking for you, come dance w’me!” he shouted, dipping his head down to position his mouth next to your ear.
hot breath tickled your skin, and you shuddered slightly as lando’s larger hand enveloped your own, allowing him to drag you through the crowds towards the dance floor. every now and then, he’d peer over his shoulder to ensure you were still with him, the smile never leaving his lips. everything around him seemed to fade, the bright lights and crowds eclipsed by his radiance. 
the crowd seemed to open up around him, blooming like a flower to grant you both more than enough space to dance comfortably without the threat of being hit by stray limbs. lando didn’t even let you get your bearings before he spun you around, high pitched laughter managing to meet your ears even over the pounding music. 
it was impossible not to laugh too. you reached up onto your tiptoes, hand still in lando’s own, and spun him around in return. thanks to his height advantage, lando had to duck a little to make the move work, but his hair still brushed against your bare wrist as he passed under it. the tickle travelled along your skin like lightning, leaving goosebumps. 
dancing had never been either of your strong suits. even after years of clubbing together, it seemed that each night out was another chance to try to learn exactly what it was you were supposed to do on the dancefloors of clubs and bars, yet you never cared too much.
around lando, everything felt right.
you two continued to dance, mirroring each other's sloppy movements. lando shot you a faux insulted look as you imitated his default dance move, awkwardly moving one arm around to the beat and pointing to the ceiling.
"i do not look like that!" he protested, struggling to keep up his irritated act.
you only shrugged, smirking slightly as you continued to mock him.
another bass-heavy, sultry song began to play, and you dropped your hands. a re-evaluation of how you were supposed to dance was much needed, but lando was one step ahead of you.
without a second thought, lando's hands came to rest on your hips. he took a step closer to you, moving to the beat and prompting you to move along with him.
how you were still breathing was a miracle. 
lando was so lost in the music that he was oblivious to your abrupt change in demeanour. suddenly, everything was heightened. even the slightest brush of lando's thumb burned through the fabric of your dress, and you'd gladly bear the marks of the searing touch if it was proof he'd been there at all.
delight soon turned to nerves, as the butterflies in your stomach quickly evolved into wasps, prickly and angry. you'd gotten carried away, dancing with lando like this, and it was beginning to catch up with you. 
"i need some air!" you blurted.
lando's eyes snapped open, roaming over your face in concern. he lifted his hand to your face, but to do what, he was unsure. you cursed inwardly at his reaction, his kicked puppy look making you feel even worse.
before he could question you, you forced a wide smile, waving your hand dismissively. "i'm fine! go have fun," you promised, patting his shoulder firmly.
after lando had turned his back, you’d wasted no time in making your way to the club’s exit. just before you could slip through the doorway, you made eye contact with charles. the man only gave you an understanding nod, deciding it wasn’t worth it to pester you to stay.
cold wind whipped your cheeks, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe properly. haphazard texts were sent to a handful of people you’d seen tonight, and you’d ordered an uber straight after.
all that was left to do now was sit with your thoughts.
maybe romance wasn’t meant for you. maybe lando wasn’t meant for you. like some sort of divine intervention, your apartment came into view before you could spiral too far.
the familiar sight broke you from your daydream, as your focus now lay on getting out of the car and into your apartment without falling over or dropping anything. it was a welcome distraction from the thoughts of lando that plagued your mind.
it’s like your own head was conspiring against you: even when he wasn’t physically around, you still found a way to gravitate towards him.
there were few sights better than that of your freshly made bed, the sheets practically begging you to slip beneath them and go to sleep. unfortunately, you still needed to change out of your club outfit. and take off your makeup. and text lando back. 
fumbling around in your bag for your phone, you let out a triumphant noise and perched on the end of your bed to type out your reply.
y/n: sorry lan, i just-
[MESSAGE DELETED]
y/n: i'm home! sorry for leaving like that, it was-
[MESSAGE DELETED]
you groaned, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself. there was no reason you should be overthinking a text to lando, of all people. after a deep sigh, you let your fingers dance over the keyboard, rewriting yet another poor excuse for leaving unannounced.
y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside xx
your finger hovered over the 'send' button before you made one final, crucial revision to the text.
y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside:( 03:24
checking the time at the top of your screen, you figured that lando probably wouldn’t respond until morning. well, afternoon, more likely.
you’d been on countless nights out with lando before; by now his drunken behaviours were engraved into your brain.
like clockwork, lando would hit a certain level of drunk and abandon his phone altogether, opting to sling an arm around someone’s shoulder - usually yours - and drag them off to dance. he wouldn’t even think about his phone until the next morning, checking his messages after finding the device tangled somewhere within the sheets of his bed.
sleep quickly became your top priority. as tempted as you were to just lay down in your current state, you knew that the future, sober you would regret it. in your eyes, you deserved an award for dragging yourself to the bathroom and removing your makeup carefully, not without performing a shorter rendition of your skincare routine and brushing your teeth.
yes, your clothes were bundled up and thrown into the corner of your room, and you opted for an old t-shirt - frustratingly, one of lando’s - instead of a set of pyjamas, but you were only human. 
exhaustion seemed to take over you the moment that your head hit the pillow, and you let out a soft sigh of relief as sleep began to take its hold. messy curls and a bright smile was the last thing on your mind as you finally lost consciousness.
meanwhile, the other drivers were still in the club with no intentions of slowing down.
lando squinted at the bright screen of his phone, vaguely able to decipher the letters that made up your text. a sigh of relief escaped him as he realised you had gotten home safely, but disappointment still sat heavy in his chest.
“she’s home,” he shouted in oscar’s ear, though his teammate hadn’t asked.
oscar didn’t have to ask who lando was talking about to understand. he’d noticed that lando’s head had operated on a swivel from the moment he’d realised that you were nowhere to be found. he was like an owl, spinning around in a way that dizzied him, all in the hopes of catching a glimpse of you.
if ever questioned about the pout that settled on his lips, lando would probably blame the alcohol for causing his dramatics to be heightened. of course he wasn’t actually that upset that you’d opted to leave a little earlier, not at all.
“that’s good! she say why she left?” oscar shouted back, dipping his head down so lando could hear him a little better over the chaos of the club.
his question made lando frown further. 
“no.”
though it was in response to oscar’s question, lando’s answer was directed more towards himself, voice barely above a mumble. he’d only just realised that you hadn’t actually mentioned why you’d left the club early, just why you didn’t say goodbye.
deep in thought, lando’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together some sort of timeline. last he’d seen you, you had been dancing together, having what he thought was a great time. okay, maybe his hands had wandered a little further than he’d expected, but it didn’t mean anything. he just got caught up in the moment, the fabric of your clothes beneath his hands far too tempting for him to be able to think clearly. 
fuck, what if he’d made you uncomfortable? 
lando knew that he became more touchy when he was drunk, his desire for affection growing exponentially as his propensity for shame decreased. your personal space became his, too. it was common for him to sling his arms around your waist, or rest his head on your shoulder as the night grew longer, but he’d never gripped your hips like that until tonight.
it would explain why you were in such a hurry to leave, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone and give them the chance to persuade you to stay for just one more dance. he’d overstepped an unspoken boundary in your friendship, and panic began to bubble in the pit of his stomach. 
lando swallowed thickly before standing up, garnering a confused look from the australian sitting next to him. 
“i need another drink. i’ll be back.”
before oscar could even speak, lando had disappeared into the thronging mass of the party without another word.
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🏷️ tags : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @srrcsm
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christophermtaylor · 6 months
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49 Palms Oasis
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gavisimmaculaterizz · 1 month
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— bother II / jude bellingham.
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summary: after a long tortuous night, jude finally decides to apologize. (part 1 here)
special thanks to @stephiii29 for the inspiration 🤍
warnings: none
masterlist
jude was not the type of person to be confrontational, and so were you. the night was cold and aloof, it felt heavy and suffocating to say the least.
jude couldn’t sleep knowing he messed up real big, which was letting his anger out on you. he knew that he shouldn’t project his anger out on you, but your question made him snap, losing his consciousness and not thinking straight. all night he twisted and turned, hoping the sun rose soon to apologize to you.
he knew it’d be difficult to apologize, knowing you were not the person to express feelings. so he put his mind to think on ways to make you forgive him.
meanwhile in the comfort of the living room, you laid in the couch, still sad over the mini “argument” you and jude had earlier. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you still felt a guilt in your stomach for causing him to snap at you. you really missed his touch, his scent, everything. it was like you were deprived for his touch. when you and him slept together, you felt like he protected you,
like your personal bodyguard.
you shook your thoughts away and checked your phone. you looked at the time and realized it was still early for your liking.
3:49 am
jude usually gets ready at 7, so you forced yourself to sleep, taking meletonin. you knew you were being a brat by trying to avoid jude, but it was the best decision you could make at the moment. you didn’t want to anger jude more, so you thought it’d be better to leave him alone to marinate in his thoughts and go to sleep.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
7:15 am
jude was awoken from his short slumber with an obnoxious alarm, signaling it was time to get ready. he did his usual routine which was showering, changing, brushing his teeth, and combing his gorgeous locks. during his whole routine he couldn’t stop and think how he left you last night, he deeply regretted what he said knowing it hurt you more than him.
he left your shared apartment disappointed. before he left he stopped by the living room and noticed you knocked out. he noticed the little details in your face, especially the dried tears on your face. his heart shattered seeing you broken, all because of his words.
on the way to the ciudad deportiva del real madrid, jude stopped by a local flower shop, placing an order of your favorite flowers to give to you when he came back from practice.
thoughout the training session, his teammates couldn’t help but notice the way he was training. this wasn’t like the jude they knew, did the loss in the bernabéu last night really affect him?
“tío, are you still angered over the loss yesterday?”, asked modric.
jude couldn’t help but stare deeply into the croatian’s eyes, shaking his head, signaling it wasn’t about that.
the croatian took it as a sign to not further bother the british.
as practice finally ended, jude quickly got ready and stopped by the flower shop to pick up the flowers he got you. he couldn’t also forget to stop by your favorite fast food restaurant. he knew you like the back of his palm, he knew every nook and cranny about you that it felt like you two have known each other since birth.
1:05 pm
apon arriving at your shared apartment, jude prepared his apology, making sure to not forget why he’s apologizing.
he fixed his shirt nervously, slowly opening the door to your shared apartment, trying not to make any noise.
you were in the kitchen, cleaning up the remaining mess you left from last night, forgetting to clean the dishes up from when dinner was served. you heard his footsteps behind you, your heart beating faster than ever.
“hi my love.”, jude said softly. you couldn’t help but mentally fold because he called you my love, you always fell more in love with him when he used that pet name.
“hey..”, you said softly, copying his tone, trying to sound put together. upon your words, jude immediately hugged you.
“please forgive me for what i caused you last night y/n. i let my emotions get to me, i never meant to make you feel sad or guilty over what happened last night. please just forgive me…”, he said nervously. you couldn’t help but smile at his apology. immediately accepting it by giving him a kiss.
“apology accepted.”, you said sheepishly. he immediately gave you a kiss, later then showing you what he bought you.
you couldn’t lie, he was such a sweet person when it came to apologizing. you could apologize to him right on the spot because of his gorgeous looks.
after all you weren’t a bother to him..
a/n: ty guys so much for the support on my first fic! i really appreciate it 😞❤️!! also this is really rushed bc im kinda busy 🥲
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scripture-pictures · 2 years
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jyoongim · 5 days
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I apologize in advance for how annoying i might be with this game you’re doing on here 🧍‍♀️
but anyways here we goooo
(if my irl moot sees this please look away LMAO)
Oooo i got purple and prompt 4‼️‼️
Ima need Alastor x reader on this one SUE ME I LOVE THAT MAN OKAY?🗣️🗣️🗣️
# 45 ( the last one specifically OMGGG??!)
# 21 (i’m a sucker for praise ✊😔)
# 22 (consent is SEXYYYY UGHH)
# 24
# 60
# 49
okay so i know these are a lot of prompts..but this sounds so DELICIOUS??? lots of teasing but eventually he caves,bc he loves her 🫶 and he wants to make her feel good..but she wants to make sure HES feeling good too.. UGH im screaming into mh pillow just thinking about itttt
Also i LOVE the way you write moot 🫶 make sure you’re taking care of yourself since you’re getting back into the swing of things again! :))
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prompt 4, combined #45/21/22/60/49: “toying with a piece of clothing, whether that be the collar of a shirt, undoing a belt, or sliding a finger underneath the waistband and letting it snap against your skin/thats it, fuck, that’s a good/girl/boy/youre mine/do that again-shit, just like that,right there/don’t be shy baby, i love the way you moan my name/sighing softly at your ear so you can hear how much you affect them”
@sweet-radio YOU HORN DOG!!!! So many requests you have left me hehehe
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Hands trailed your body as you withered against Alastor.
Sharp claws played with the band of your panties before pulling and letting it snap back against your skin, making you jolt. He chuckled at you. His fingers crept into your panties to your heat. 
“A-Al-” your lips parted in a soft gasp as he pressed against your clit, rubbing the nub until he dipped two fingers into you. Your back arched, head thrown back against his shoulder. 
He scissored his fingers before curling them, rubbing against your soft walls. “O-Oh fuck” you whimpered as he fucked his fingers into you. Lewd wet noises sounded as your cunt grew wetter. Alastor hummed in your ear “such a sweet cunt, taking my fingers so eagerly”
You squirmed, rolling your hips inn rhythm with his hand, grinding your clit into his palm.
You panted as soft moans escaped your throat, teeth biting your plump lip to try and contain your moans. 
A curl of his fingers had you mewling, Alastor cooing at you as his other hand untucked your lip “Don’t hide those sweet sounds my dear, let me hear you sing my praises”
You felt your orgasm coming to the forefront, whining as his fingers curled against that sweet spot deeep inside you.
”oooh Al ha! Fu-fuck ha!” Your body shuddered as a high pitch whine left you. “That’s a good girl. That’s right. Take it.” Alastor brawled in your ear as your slick soaked his hand and your panties.
You panted as he pulled his hand from your cunt, bringing his coated fingers to his lips, sucking your juices off.
”such a pretty cunt and its all mine. Mine” he growled, ripping your panties and flipping you around to face him. You leaned against his shoulder as the red demon guided your hips against his hardened length.
He lifted you slightly and you heard the sound of his belt buckle and a cry left your lips when he sunk you down onto his cock, stretching your gummy walls.
He groaned into your ear, growling as your hips moved.
His chest rumbled, vibrating your body as he huffed and purred.
His lips kissed along your shoulder.
Your cunt grew wetter at the sound of the Overlord groaning into your ear. “Hear how good you make me feel cherie? Only a cunt as fine as your can do such a thing”
His hips rutted up into you, cock hitting your cervix deliciously, pulling a cry from your lips.
”please AH! Ha! Please Alastor” you whined into his neck, pushing your hips back into his thrusts.
Your gummy walls clenching, making the demon gasp as you hugged his length. “S-Shit do that again baby” Alastor hissed, pushing your hips flush against his.
Your second orgasm approached faster than the first and your moans rung out like a song to his ears.
Alastor growled before slamming your hips down, forcing you to take his cock, milking it of its essence. He left out a sigh as he twitched coating your walls in his cum, grinding into to to prolong both of your release.
You let out a ragged groan as he softened and slipped from you, any remaining cum starting to leak and form a puddle between the both of you.
”Yes all mine indeed”
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dwuerch-blog · 1 year
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I'm Making My List and Checking it Twice
I’m Making My List and Checking it Twice
This title is a line from the song, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”. Even Santa makes lists. I’m there! I admit it. I must make my lists! Oh, yes! I’ve been preparing a meal and realized I forgot an important something. I had to head right back to the grocery store…..again! Now I make “to do” lists and I’m proud of it – especially at this “mature” season of life. I’m filled with a sense of…
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krashoutluv · 2 months
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Ur writing makes me emotional im literally writhing on the floor jason let me take care of u bbg 😭 can u write smth ab him letting his s/o take care of him after a rough patrol? Can be sfw or nsfw
HEHEHEHE THANK YOU ANON!! I GOTT YOUUU
im so proud of this it took long but im literally writing this at 3:49 AM bc of the idea that popped up in my half asleep brain
Taking care of ak!Jason Todd after patrol!! (SFW FLUFFY FIC)
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Night after night, Jason Todd would come home to you. Sometimes bloodied and bruised, sometimes frustrated and annoyed, sometimes his feet were dragging and his whole body ached. Tonight he slipped through your apartment window, smooth jazz played so lightly it took him a second to register it. A light in the dining room was on. He could’ve just showered to let the running water tell you he was home, and be greeted with your presence when he came out. But, tonight his eyelids were heavy and his body felt empty. Like a lost ghost, he longed for something that gave him a peace to rest his lamenting spirit. Jason wandered to you, it was second nature at times, he found you sitting at the dinner table working on your laptop.
Your gaze flicked upwards, the red of his helmet catching your eyes. “Welcome back!” You said warmly. Almost in an instant his body felt full, heavy, like he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there.
“Hey.” The helmets voice scrambler hid Jason’s mellowed tone. Slightly frowning underneath it because of its harsh manner, he promptly took it off. After sliding the cold metal off his head, his eyes met yours. You were smiling tenderly at him. Jason drifted toward you, when he got close he felt like his whole body would’ve dropped to your feet and he could in a dormant rest for centuries. As long as you stayed there of course. Hardly noticed how close he stood over you until he felt himself moving down to kiss your cheek. Jason stopped himself, “Can I?” he whispered to you feebly. You nodded to him with that warm smile he longed for desperately. Jason pressed his cold lips to your cheekbone, the sensation of your skin soothed that longing feeling. He pressed another one firmly, helplessly trying to quarrels his yearning soul. Jason caught himself, skin flushed as he dragged himself away.
A sigh escaped his lips and he started turning away,” Would you like one too?” He fixated himself back on you, you were still looking at him lovingly, your finger pressed against your lips, waiting for his response.
Wordlessly he bowed his head back toward you, turning his head for you to kiss his unbranded cheek. Jason wasn’t ready for you to touch that side of him so directly. He didn’t want you to meet the oily black hate, the only other thing that touched his heart, his longing, his ache as comfortingly as you did. The discomfort seeped from him when he felt your plush lips meet his skin, it wasn’t quick, not too long either. In Jason’s mind it was perfection, it made that tar that stuck in his veins seem like a pathetic substitute. It made his breath heavy, all but burdened with a swollen heart. It made him feel untouchable, not in his brutal norm but in a heavenly stillness. It made him scared. That you could take care of him, not just when his body bled but when you filled something enigmatically empty inside him. Something that he could only fill with that hate that he clutched onto like a boy to his mother.
Jason lugged himself away from you. He wasn’t sure what would hurt him more and he wasn’t ready to find out. He sat across from you pressing his callous palms against his face.
“Bad night?”
“Mhm. Something like that.”
“Need anything?” He already got it.
“No.”
He would be lying if he were to say he wouldn’t wish to a star like a child, asking for your ease indefinitely.
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i love him☹️
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wynnyfryd · 3 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 48
part 1 | part 47 | ao3
cw: mentions of smoking/sexual activity
Chapter 11
February
For two and a half months, Steve’s life goes perfectly. He didn’t realize how far into a pit he’d fallen until Eddie showed up to help Robin and the kids lift him out, but the difference is jarring. Golden hour sunlight after catching a matinée.
Steve spends two months blinking.
He sloughs off his sadness like a snake shedding skin; spends the winter getting back to being Steve, restocks his favorite hair products and restarts his fitness routines — morning runs through the woods, afternoon pick-up games with Lucas and some of his teammates when the weather doesn’t suck. Weightlifting in the evenings because Eddie says he likes how Steve’s arms look when they get a little big, says it’s more fun to pin him down when he knows it’s just for show.
And he tries new things, too, just because Eddie likes them or because the kids think they're cool. He reads a Vonnegut novel. He eats Indian curry. He even learns a song on guitar.
...Sort of.
Eventually.
(Actually, that whole thing goes pretty horribly and takes for-fucking-ever. Eddie spends an afternoon patiently encouraging him and doing his best not to tease while Steve clumsily moves through a beginner chord progression, and then breaks down wheezing when, after the sixth attempt with no improvement, Steve puts the guitar down in a huff and threatens to demote his pinky finger from his hand if it doesn't start cooperating. Eddie laughs so hard he tips face-first into Steve's crotch, and it takes them a sticky-spitty-sweaty half hour to get back to the lesson.)
Anyway, he likes the way their lives entangle. As easy as weaving his hands through Eddie’s hair.
He gets invited to band practice; he sits in on D&D. Sometimes he watches sports with Wayne when he's got a day off, then he heads out with Eddie for long joyrides through the countryside.
Eddie blasts his metal music when they get out to the backroads, and he talks too loudly over the bass and laughs even louder and rants about nothing and smokes cigarettes while he headbangs to his favorite guitar solos — almost lights his hair on fire on more than one occasion, fucking dumbass — and he does this silly, lewd shit that makes Steve's chest just ache. Makes it clench around the word that's been burning a hole in his tongue since New Year's Eve. Eddie wags his brows and palms himself through his jeans and asks if Steve wants to take another joyride when they get home, and Steve thinks:
God, I love you.
I love you.
How could I not love you?
And really, how could he not? And how much longer can he keep not telling him so? When it feels like the word is going to burst out of his chest Alien-style any second.
When it feels like Eddie's the reason he even has a home to get to.
Slowly — so slowly, hours spent thrifting and bartering and keeping an eye out for free stuff left out on the curb, even more hours sanding and painting and caulking and sweating to death between trips to the hardware store — they redo Steve's whole trailer. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, they exorcise the haunted tin can. They make it his; they make it theirs.
Eddie injects life into every inch of the space, fills it with weird art and funky lamps and a big, comfy leather couch that he likes to bend Steve over. Comes inside him in every room when they get done working on it as a reward; gasps in Steve's ear about how he always wants to be inside him: in his home, in his body, nestled deep inside his heart. "Keep me right here, baby," he breathes as he fucks Steve against a wall, his left hand gripping Steve's chest while he fills him from behind.
It’s perfect.
It's perfect.
Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts unless Steve asks.
And then, because this godforsaken town and everyone in it are fucking cursed, one day it isn’t anymore.
part 49
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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