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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days

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Foxes

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: You like foxes

Jenni watches as you unpack your bag.

It is with great certainty that you line up your toys. She'd tried to get you to cut down on the amount that you brought with you but it'd triggered a meltdown so big that the neighbours complained about the noise.

It was easier to let you bring them all, even if they were all exactly the same as each other.

It wasn't an exaggeration either.

They were the same exact fox toy. The same one over and over again.

You had a few different ones at home but there were about seven or eight of this one, staring at Jenni with blank black eyes.

You pet each of them on the head before getting off the bed. You've been fascinated with the carpet ever since you both got in, randomly stopping what you were doing to aimlessly stroke it with a little crinkle between your brows that shows you don't know why you like it either.

It's another one of those things that Jenni has come to love about you.

It's strange, she knows, to outsiders but it's you down to your very core and she loves that.

You occupy yourself so well, so independent in your playing. Or...independent in the way that you only played by yourself because people tended to not play the way you liked and that usually sent you into a meltdown.

Either way, with you investigating the carpet and your foxes lined up against your pillows, Jenni takes the time to unpack her own things.

It had been a bit of a risk bringing you to the World Cup but with her parents and Rafa both busy, there was nowhere else she could put you but here.

"There foxes here, Mami?" You ask, finally sitting up.

"In Australia?" Jenni asks," I think so, osita."

You hum and get to your feet.

Your obsession with foxes is a little over the top, Jenni can admit but it's not causing anyone any harm so she indulges it. Besides, it just means that she knows exactly what to get you.

You hum again, meandering over to rub your hands over her soft tracksuit bottoms.

Your hand does a big swipe down before going straight up to her hip to do it again.

"Do they feel nice?" Jenni asked with a little laugh and your head bobs up and down in agreement.

You jolt when there's a knock at the door though. You immediately clamp your hands over your ears and Jenni sympathetically smooths down your hair.

"Don't like it, Mami," You say.

"I know."

There's another round of knocks, more impatient than before.

"One second!" Jenni calls as she sets you up at the desk with your pencils and drawing pad.

Jenni pokes her head out of the door. "Hola?"

Irene, Laia, Mariona and Alexia wait there, each of them sporting large smiles.

"Can we come in?"

Jenni spares a look behind her. You seem content again, scrawling over the paper.

"Yeah, alright." She lets the others in. "Osita, we've got company."

"Hi," You say but don't tear your eyes away from the page.

Laia and Mario instantly make themselves comfortable on Jenni's bed while Irene goes to check out the view. Alexia wanders closer to you, crouching by the chair you're sitting in.

"Hola, osita," She says to you," It's nice to see you again. I missed you."

"Okay." You keep drawing.

"Osita," Jenni says," Tell Alexia you missed her too."

Your brows draw together but you do what you're told. "Alexia," You say," Missed you too."

Alexia smiles at you fondly, more than aware of your little quirks as she takes a peak at your drawing. "That's a nice fox," She says.

"Yes," You say," It's a red fox." You flip to the front of the book to show the exact same drawing. You keep flipping the pages to show Alexia the exact same drawing on all of them.

The same red fox on all the pages.

"Red fox," You say, suddenly regurgitating words Jenni's heard countless times before," Vulpes vulpes. Found in Europe, Asia, Africa and America. Most widely distributed animal naturally apart from people." You keep drawing, dragging your pencil across the page. "Give birth in dens. Babies stay with adults until autumn and then leave."

"You know a lot about foxes," Alexia says.

"Yes," You reply, switching your orange pencil for black.

"Do you have a favourite?"

"Swift fox," You say immediately," Vulpes velox. Small like housecat. Found in America." Somehow, you've opened up a little to Alexia, fully facing her now though your eyes are nowhere near her face. "I like foxes."

"I know," Alexia says. She dips her hand into her pocket. "I couldn't find a big one but here."

It's a keyring with a knitted fox attached to it.

You swipe your hand over the fabric and immediately pull it away, grabbing it by the silver ring instead. You want to pull a face but you know that's not okay.

Mami tells you that all the time so you keep your face blank.

You shuffle off the chair to give the keychain to Mami to look after, wiping the icky feeling off your hand while you're still there.

"Is this from Ale?" She asks and you nod," Did you say thank you?"

You turn back to face Alexia again. "Thank you."

You don't go back to your drawing, you just sit at Mami's feet and trace the pattern of the carpet with your finger.

"Hey, osita," Laia says to you," Are you enjoying Mexico?"

You don't look up from what you're doing. "No," You say," Roja is not in Mexico."

"Roja?"

"Fox that me and Mami fed in our garden," You continue, perking up a little bit," She is not in Mexico. We do not have a fox in Mexico."

"Roja wasn't ours," Mami reminds you," She only came back because we kept feeding her."

"Roja had babies," You say like Mami hasn't even said anything," That's why she was fat. Roja had babies and then we left her."

Mami sighs. "We didn't leave Roja. We-"

"Red foxes have between four to five babies," You plough on, sitting upright again and talking at Laia," Born blind and deaf. Mating happens in winter so babies are born in spring, raised in summer and leave in autumn. Babies-"

You cut yourself off as Alexia goes to move and you stand up.

"Why you going?"

"Osita," Mami says," What have I said about being polite?"

You blink at Mami a few times, trying to recall what she told you before. Mami has to give your reminders a lot. She says that you're not good socially but you don't think it's your fault that people are weird and don't make sense.

She understands you and Alexia understood you when you used to live in Spain and that's all that matters.

"Where you going?" You correct and Mami laughs a little in disbelief, though you don't really get why.

Alexia laughs. "Just the toilet, osita. I'll be back soon."

You nod at her, just once. "Okay."

You sit back down by Mami's feet and go back to tracing the carpet.

"Someone missed her tia Ale," Irene teases and that causes you to frown.

Actually, you don't think you did miss Alexia, not in the way Irene clearly thinks you do. Actually, you don't really think about Alexia when you're in Mexico. You don't really think about anyone that much unless you see a picture of them.

Maybe you do miss Alexia though. In the beginning you think you did but that's because she was a big part of your life and then she suddenly wasn't anymore and that's a big adjustment.

You miss Alexia now though, as she goes off to the toilet but you've never been all that consumed by missing people except for Mami and that's never really happened because you're always with her.

Feelings are weird and people are even weirder, you decide and you migrate a bit closer to Mami. You tug on her leg, looking at her with big wide eyes.

She seems to understand you though, throwing your favourite fox patterned blanket to you.

You make a little tent so you don't have to see anyone else.

You can't always interact with people well so you prefer being in your fox tent.

You take a big, deap breath that runs through your whole body before releasing it.

You smile.

You can feel Mami behind you.

You think this World Cup won't be as bad as you thought it would be.

#woso x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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satoruluvies · 2 days

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sweet delights!

you're kneading cookie dough nanami's kneading something else

nsfw mdni !!

nanami never had doubts that being married to you, the absolute love of his life and the bearer of his heart, would be wonderful but he finds surprises everyday.

even now, you were doing something as innocent as baking sweet little cookies for the both of you, mixing the dough with either flour or powdered sugar smudged next to your lips that were forming a soft pout upon your concentration.

that was enough to make him melt just like the chocolate that was glazing on the stove but amidst the sunrays and scent of vanilla lingering in the air, something else completely grasped his attention.

you, his wife, sported only a shirt. his shirt. you leaned down to place a tray of the cookie dough you made into the oven, the shirt gently raised as you bend down, revealing your pretty underwear.

nanami swears he isn't one to think vulgar thoughts or thirst over something like this. he isn't a teenager anymore with a raging urge.

“oh? hey nana” your smile was somehow even brighter than the sunrays that fell into the kitchen and it was enough to send him into a frenzy. giggling, you made your way to him smiling sweetly at the man in front of you.

his hands instinctively grabs your waist as yours find their way around his neck as if it were that was most natural thing to do. his eyes dart to your chest for a moment to realise you weren't wearing anything underneath and it was making him realise that he indeed, can have urges and they were a little hard to control, as of now.

his gaze found yours as he leans down to place a gentle yet lingering kiss on your lips, smiling as he pulls away to admire you. his hand gently comes up to caress away the remains of the white powder that was clinging to your face.

“you're a clumsy one aren't you my love?” he practically coos at the playful frown on your lips as he kisses it away, laughter bubbling in the small home you share.

you weren't all sweet though, you press your chest against his as you tip toe, smiling in triumph when you saw nanami’s breath hitch at the contact. you've noticed his lingering gaze and subtle glances in places only he was allowed to and that gave you a sense of pride knowing you alone have this effect on him.

“very clumsy” nanami pulls you closer, his hands slowly inching from your waist to beneath his your shirt, gently drawing circles on your bare back sending goosebumps all over your body.

slowly, his hands trail to your front, softly tracing the shape and skin of your chest. you could feel your nipple harden at the gesture as you look at him, eyes boring into yours with faint smile on his lips.

he gently massages the skin and you couldn't help but arch your back, leaning into him, asking him for more. his thumb softly grazes your nipples, earning him a soft gasp from your lips at the sudden pleasure.

“do you like that, honey?” you nod shakily, your brows furrowing as you close your eyes, your hands were now grasping on the huge of his arms.

his palms cupped both your soft lush, your hands squeezed the fabric of his own shirt just a little harder. “my god you are so so beautiful” he whispers, one of his hands snake around your waist, eliminating any distance as the other doesn't stop massaging your chest.

“i still can't believe im married to you. im very very lucky.” he raises your shirt higher, revealing your perfectly sculpted breasts. all for him.

he leans down to place a soft kiss on one then move to the other, showing both the same affection, a detail you don't miss.

nanami then brings one into his warm mouth, gently sucking on it. you shudder at the gesture and roll your head back in pleasure. “k-kento-” you breathed out as he hummed, sending vibrations to your chest as you felt your core tighten.

he pulls away, the cold air made your nipples stiff as he moved on to the other side, you hold him even more firmly as the knot in your stomach tightens even further fueling you with need.

you let out a soft moan that drove nanami crazy. he was about to carry you into the bedroom but the loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. the cookies you had made were done.

“how rude” nanami smirked at your flushed face. he hadn't even done a quarter of what he wanted to do and you were already this flustered.

“w-well.” you clear your throat, bringing your palms to your face “they need taking care of” you slip away from his grasp and put on an oven glove, taking out the tray of perfectly done cookies.

nanami just watched in adoration at your every move, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you taste one and nod in satisfaction.

“wanna try?” you held out a piece as he strode over, eating the small treat directly from your hand, eyes staring straight into yours.

“delicious” you smile, satisfied with the review but before you could register anything at all, you were pulled yet again into his hold. “i also need some taking care of, darling.”

he takes off the oven glove on one of your hand that you didn't realise you still wore and places it on the table. he then bends down and brings one of his strong arms on the back of your knee, the other on your back supporting you firmly, grabbing you into a princess hold. quiet literally, sweeping you off your feet.

“why don't we pick up where we left off hm?”

request request,, my attempt at writing more detailed nsfw content lmk your thoughts! <3

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami imagine #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk au #jjk fanfic

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oleafia-art · 1 day

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Landgraab High School Yearbook, circa 2014

This is an illustration of some of the teenage townies from the Sims 4 in a school yearbook. This is based on my own story I’m making inspired by these characters, which is why some of them look different to their original Maxis counterparts (I gave them in game makeovers since they’re important characters).

The main characters of this story are Cassandra Goth, Hugo Villareal, Wolfgang Munch, Morgan Fyres, and Malcolm Landgraab. Luna Villareal, Sofia Bjergsen, Yuki Behr and Darling Walsh are all important to the story as well. And of course all of the family members of the characters mentioned are very important. The story is a coming of age mystery drama with a little bit of romance and comedy. It revovles around the daily lives of these teen characters but takes a turning point when Bella Goth goes missing, which leads Cassandra and other characters to start an investigation looking for her. There is of course the whole matter of Jacques Villareal and Nancy Landgraab running a whole underground crime ring as well, so things get pretty crazy and dark secrets about the families are revealed as the investigation continues.

I’ve been really obsessed with drawing these guys lately, but I’ve barely had any time to play the actual game, so most of the story is in my head or written hastily in my notes app lol. Let me know if you guys want to see more Sims art inspired by my townie story! I’d love to delve more into each character and their relationships with one another. Maybe even make some comics?

Please feel free to reblog if you like!

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 #the sims fanart #cassandra goth #hugo villareal #wolfgang munch #morgan fyres #malcolm landgraab #luna villareal #yuki behr #darling walsh #sofia bjergsen #digital illustration #digital art #oleafia art #simblr #sims community #sims 4 story

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doki-doki-imagines · 2 days

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tw: smut and fluff, use of safe word, breakdown (Michael), afab!reader.

author note: inspired by his current situation in the manga. And the fact that I miss him. "I miss my wife, Tails. I miss her a lot."

This wasn’t the first time Michael acted like this. Mouth biting into your neck, and hands furiously groping into your fat. Not even a hello before barging into your house, not a single care about what you were doing a second prior; he wants and takes.

You don’t mind that much, a rough fuck is a nice change and it’s not like he ever wants to hurt you, he just needs to release healthily some pent-up anger, and helping him out brings a lot of pleasure to you too. You don’t lose any time in the living room, your legs steady around his hips while he brings you to the bedroom, while his teeth mark the soft flesh of your neck.

The bed creaks under Michael’s thrusts, his strong fingers leaving indents on your skin, moans reverberating in the room. The blonde blue eyes never search for yours, his red eyeliner smudged in the corners. Michael bites his lips until he draws blood to not let any sound escape, something unusual since you tease him for how loud he usually is.

“Michael, red.” But more than that particular is different this time, something hurts and you need to take a break.

But he doesn’t stop, mind lost somewhere else, not with you. Thankfully you are in a position where you can easily move. You sit up, hand gripping his chin to finally be able to see him straight into his eyes. Michael doesn’t stop, if anything his trust only gets deeper, making you wince in pain.

“Stop Michael, you are hurting me.” There is no real anxiety in your voice, you trust him, but there is a hint of anger mixed with pain for obvious reasons.

It’s not the first time you used the safe word, but this time Michael cracks, hips finally stopping. His mouth falls into a deep frown, irises twitching and you can see a sea of anxiety into them, so deep and hurtful that soon fat tears roll down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry-“ He gasps out, hand covering his face, head down in shame. “I can’t make anything-I’m a fucking mess.” Shivers run down his spine, muscles all over his body twitching and not of pleasure.

“Michael-“ You sit up on your knees after pulling him out. “Look at me.” You softly ask. Michael refuses, face covered by his hand and soft strands of blonde and blue hair. “Michael, don’t worry.” You coo, kissing the top of his head while hugging him, drawing small circles on his naked back. He keeps gasping in your arms, face still hidden, but this time in the nook of your neck.

“C’mon look at me, baby” Your voice is saccharine, trying to make him feel as at ease as possible. He doesn’t listen to you, blabbering excuses on your skin, tears now rolling down your back for how copious they are. “Shhh Michael.” You lift his face, your hands cupping his cheek to make sure he has to look at you. His eyes are red, and the pout hits you harder than a stab at your heart.

“It’s not about the safe word, right?” Michael shakes his head in your hand, eyes squeezed close, long blonde lashes sticking together due to the tears. You kiss his eyelid, as fast and as delicate as a butterfly, before asking your boyfriend to open his eyes.

“I think I may know a way to make you feel better? Wanna try?” Michael nods, one hand intertwining with yours before kissing between your palm and wrist.

You take it slow, your lips drifting from his cheek to his jaw, following an invisible path that will lead to his tranquility. Your hands push to his chest “Lay down baby, relax I’m here.” You whisper and it’s enough to convince him, relinquishing the control he so likes to have.

Your lips meet his, and you can taste the salt of his tears on them. It’s a slow dance, no hurry behind your movements, not in your kisses nor in the sweet caresses of your hands. You stroke his dick, grown soft due to the breakdown, making Michael mewl into your mouth, arching his back cutely under your movements.

You lower your core on his dick, making a soft whimper escapes both your throats. It feels so deep, filling you so perfectly you almost think you were crafted for each other. Your hips slowly grind into him, your hands finding purchase on his muscular thighs, immediately flexing under your soft fingers.

“Michael, you feel wonderful-“ You gasp, mouth shaped in a cute ‘o’. The blonde under you bites his lower lip, before looking away, not being able to hold your love-filled gaze.

“No, no baby.” Your hips stop moving while you crouch down a little, hands again on his face, turning it to you “Look at me, look at how happy you make me.” Your lips are again on his, sucking on his tongue with no finesse, the calm of before brushed away from the passion blossoming into your heart. Your hands wander to his, still gripping into the white cotton covers, afraid to touch you.

You pull his lower lips with your teeth before breaking the kiss “I wanna feel your hands on me.” It’s an order and Michael doesn’t have the strength to refuse, your softer hands on his rough ones, guiding them towards your waist.

“Only you-“ A gasp breaks your voice “Can make me feel like this” You start to raise your hips up and down his length, thighs already burning, not used to doing the hard work, your partner too used to be in control in any position.

Michael looks like a work of art under you, blue eyes a shade deeper thanks to bliss and lips a delicious shade of red. His abs twitch at your every moan and you can’t resist the temptation to caress them, feeling them under your hands before going to his chest and squeezing his pecs, and playing with his erect nipples that were just screaming for your attention.

You can’t go on for much more, your thighs burn and your apex is approaching, and not just yours.

“Michael, I-I love you.” It’s nothing earth-shattering, words that you both told to each other on various occasions, but a gear clicks in the blonde mind, his fingers gripping tightly onto your skin, for sure leaving signs that will be evident the next day.

He sits up, manhandling your legs around his hips, his forehead knocking against yours.

“Say it again.” He orders, voice hoarse. His hands gripping your middle again, his words sending a shiver down your back.

“I love you, Michael.” You whine, but the sound is broken by his lips on yours. His hands now forcefully pushing you up and down his length, giving you the possibility to fully enjoy him, for your mind to just be filled in pleasure.

“You are so good-“ Your foreheads brushing against each other, sweat mixing and eyes tearing in pleasure, making it hard to open them up. He pushes you even more towards his body, making you feel every curve and twitch of his body against your softer one.

“I-I’m near-“ You blabber out, but you don’t need to add anything, his tattoed hand moving towards your clit, massaging it with a calm that doesn’t suit the actual situation.

“I love you too.” Michael mewls into your ear, licking the shell.

It's the straw that breaks the camel's back, you slump in his arms, the moans that leave your mouth a telltale sign that you reached your apex.

“Baby, hold on a little longer-“ Your boyfriend gasps, finally looking at you, with no trace of the previous shame.

You feel him twitch inside you, but you don’t feel as overstimulated as you should, your walls still gripping his thick length. Your eyes roll at each of his thrusts, now arhythmic and harsh, desperate for pleasure.

“Look at me.” You have no strength left in you, so Michael takes the matter into his own hands, holding your cheek, almost squeezing your face, not being able to perfectly control his strength.

“You are beautiful-“ He is able to whine one last time, before cumming, tension leaving his body, head turned back showing you his Adam’s apple bobbing.

He lays on his back, eyes closed, pushing you on top of him. His breath is frantic, still recovering from the orgasm.

“Wait-How are you?” His eyes snap open, looking at you remembering how he overstimulated you.

“No, Micha, don’t worry.” You caress his face, brushing away some blonde hair glued on his face due to the sweat. You pull yourself off from him, making you both groan a bit.

“I’m taking a bath, you wanna come?” You ask, smooching Michael on the cheek, your hand caressing his biceps, a gesture he seems to enjoy since he relaxes under your touch.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Michael brushes his eyes, red from the tears and the eyeliner being irremediably smudged.

“You want to talk about what happened before?”

“I don’t want to bother you with my shit.” Michael snaps back.

“It’s not shit, and I want to help you. When you are sad it’s like I get stabbed in the chest, you know?” You reply your chin on his chest, pulling the best puppy eyes you can muster.

He looks down on you, thinking for a minute about it while brushing your hair, making you purr under his touch.

“Okay then, let’s talk about it while we bathe.” Michael accepts, kissing the top of your head.

You kiss him, a big smooch full of cheer. It’s always so hard to make him open up, but you hope the soft atmosphere will make him melt and finally open up to you.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser smut #blue lock x you #bllk x you #look if we don't get his past this week I'll implode

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 1 day

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FUBAR [AO3]

Female Reader x GHOAP

NSFW 18+ [All of my blog is thus] Minors DNI, I mean it, *Logan Roy voice* Fuck off.

Summary: You, Soap, and Ghost get dosed with sex pollen. Warnings and full fic under the cut.

Warnings: Sex Pollen, Dubcon(everyone is into it but high on pheromones), MMF Threesome, MLM, Blowjobs (M giving and receiving), oral F!receiving, dirty talk, soft dom!Simon, very loose sub/dom dynamics, RACK/SSC not really applicable due to sex pollen but it's not bad kink, just not the most realistic, safewords are used, unprotected PiV (reader is on Birth Control), Creampie, Sir Kink, subby Johnny, subby Reader. Let me know if I missed anything! No physical description of reader but Simon moves her around a little (no heavy lifting really). Thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for taking a look/betaing for me.

Word Count: 4,370

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi

You rouse slowly to the sound of heavy grunts, desperate sighs, and a wet, slurping sound. You let out a soft whine as the sounds go straight to your core. Your legs clenching together as you try and quell the ache building there.

That’s when the buzzing in your ears starts, low and droning like an incessant fly rattling around your skull. Your entire body aches like you’ve run a marathon, before fighting off a bear. You groan as you try and stretch out your limbs, your eyes slowly adjusting to the low light filling the space around you.

The pitched roof above you is made of thick wooden beams, the orange light emanating from a lamp in the corner casts a romantic hue over everything. You turn your head, searching for the source of the noise and your mouth goes dry.

Soap and Ghost are tangled on the floor a few feet away clothes discarded; their scarred bodies bathed in the ochre light as you watch Ghost cradle Soap’s head in a loving gesture as they break a heated kiss. You bite your lip as you watch the pornographic scene unfold. You realise it’s the first time you’ve seen Ghost without his mask on, he’s strikingly handsome.

His face is scarred, aged lacerations and burns marking his strong jaw, up and through the left side of his plush lips. His nose is somewhat crooked, broken one too many times, and set poorly more than once. He’s beautiful.

There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that tells you to speak up, or at the very least roll over to give them some privacy. But you’re transfixed, your panties are soaked through as you dip your hand below the waistline of your trousers.

It’s sick and twisted but you feel yourself burning up even hotter as you toy with your swollen clit as you watch them. But you simply don’t care, it’s like you’ve lost all sense of shame, your inhibitions ripped free from your mind as you watch Soap press open mouthed kisses to Ghost’s chest.

“Go on, Johnny,” He purrs lowly as the smaller man sinks between his thighs, “Be a good boy for me.”

“Fuck, anything for you, Si,” Johnny responds with a whine as you watch his lips trail further down the scarred expanse of your LT’s body. He nips and sucks on Simon’s nipples and you can’t help but wish that he was worshiping you as well.

“Fuck,” Ghost groans as you witness Johnny’s lips wrap around his cock, “That’s it, Johnny, fuck I need you.”

The desperation in Ghost’s voice makes you squirm as you feel heat rushing through your veins as you rub your fingers desperately over your swollen clit. You’re drenched as you hear the wet sound of Johnny taking Ghost’s thick cock almost all the way to the base.

Johnny works Ghost’s cock like a pro, his thick fingers pressed into Ghost’s muscular thighs as his cheeks hollow out. His head bobs in practiced strokes, pulling off almost all the way to suckle around Ghost’s bulbous tip, drawing out harsh choked moans from the gruff, stoic man.

You’re panting like a bitch in heat now, no longer subtle in your movements as you shove your trousers and panties down around your thighs. You’re in too much of a rush to take them off completely as you plunge two fingers inside your aching cunt. You fail to stifle the whine in the back of your throat as you match the increased pace Johnny sets on Ghost’s cock.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” Ghost’s growling drawl makes you clench around your fingers, you should feel ashamed, you should stop. But getting caught only spurs you on as you add another finger into your drenched core. You look to your Lieutenant, his scarred, handsome face twisted in a blissed-out snarl as Johnny eases off his cock.

“Don’t stop,” you cry out, voice hoarse as you make eye contact with Johnny whose eyes are wide with shock, “Please, I’m going to come.”

“You heard her, Johnny,” Ghost says with a click of his tongue, “Put on a show.”

Your cheeks heat at the way he talks down to Johnny, but more at the way Johnny moans at the instruction, redoubling his efforts.

The Scot gets sloppier, the loud gluck, gluck, gluck of Ghost’s cock hitting the back of Soap’s throat again and again echoes the squelching sounds coming from your cunt as you try and match his pace.

You hit your peak with a wail as you clamp down on your fingers, pleasure rocking through you in hard bursts. The tightness in your core eases for a spell as you come down from your high just to hear the euphoric roar of Ghost coming down Soap’s throat.

“Fuck,” you groan as you roll onto your side, watching in perverted awe as Soap laps at Ghost’s cock, licking him clean before suckling on his tip slowly. Icy eyes locking with Simon’s hazy, blissed out amber ones before turning his gaze to you.

“Come join us, hen,” Johnny says with his signature smirk as he sits back on his ass, his dick still painfully hard as it slaps against his scarred abdomen.

“Yeah,” Ghost groans as he curls two fingers at you, beckoning for you to join them, “We need to talk.”

You’re moving before you can even process the request, you waddle over with your trousers and panties still rolled down, hands pulling at your shirt and bra as you discard them both somewhere behind you. You’re fumbling with your trousers when a firm hand catches your wrist.

“Slow your roll, sergeant,” Ghost says, his tone serious as you try to look at his face, and not the beautiful dick bobbing between his legs as it still glistens with a combination of Johnny’s spit and his come.

“What happened, what’s wrong with me?” You ask in a hushed whisper as you try and replay the events of the last forty-eight hours.

“You took a grenade for us, you twat,” Ghost says with a low chuckle, “It was a prototype of the chemical weapon we were tracking.”

“Shit,” you suddenly feel itchy, like you’re covered in bugs, “What’s the damage?”

“It was some kind of pheromone bomb,” Soap chimes in as he traces circles over the skin of your exposed ankle, sending shivers up your spine, “Meant to drive people into a blind rage.”

“Instead, it seems like it’s more of an aphrodisiac,” Ghost adds, pointing between himself and Johnny, “We were hit too, trying to save your reckless ass.”

“So, what? You two just got started without me?” You scoff, trying to ease the tension coiling in your belly as you feel the magnetic pull of their bodies as you sit there topless, cunt exposed with your trousers tight around your thighs.

“We weren’t going to touch you in your sleep, hen, come on. What do you take us for?”

“Besides,” Ghost says with a sigh, “We’re not exactly unfamiliar with each other’s cocks,” Johnny flashes Ghost a dazzling smile at that and it clicks into place in your mind.

“Oh, so you’re not into women,” you nod in bitter understanding as you try not to feel rejected, “Do I just go and wank myself to death in the corner then?”

You try to pass it off as a joke, but you can see the way both men look at you. There’s an undeniable yearning etched on both their faces.

“Lass,” Johnny says as he trails his fingertips up to your bunched up trousers, “Gaz thinks we need to fuck this drug out, it’s no good just trying to wank the pain away.”

“Eloquent as ever, Johnny,” Simon sighs but the smirk on his face betrays any attempt at scolding Soap, “But he’s right, Gaz and Price managed to avoid getting dosed, this dumb fuck and I got too close trying to get your limp body out and got a whiff of the stuff.”

“We were worried about you, hen, we care about you.”

“So, you swing both ways?” You ask bluntly, after failing to find a better, less crass way of putting it.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, “And we’ve been sweet on you a while, just didn’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“But this bullshit kind of forced our hands,” Ghost adds as he flattens his broad palm over the back of one of your hands, “We don’t have to make any promises about what comes next, there’s no pressure from either of us, I hope you know that.”

You nod slowly, your skin burning as you try not to lean in and just kiss Ghost, you know there’s more to be said yet.

“We need to fuck, to survive this,” Johnny says as he moves his hand up to cup your cheek, his crystal blue eyes boring into you as you hold his gaze, “We don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to, but let us help you.”

“Tell us what you need,” Simon encourages you as he presses his nose against the swell of your bare shoulder as he trails his fingertips up your side, “Tell us what we can do to make you feel good.”

“Help me get out of these,” you gesture to your trousers and panties, “Then fuck me, please.”

“So, you two,” you start as Simon’s fingers slip under the bunched-up fabric to pull your legs free, “You’re an item?”

“Fuckin’ hell, lass,” Johnny groans as he bucks up into your hand as you squeeze him tightly in your clenched fist, “Do you want us to fuck ye or not?”

“Johnny,” Simon snaps in warning as he pulls his fingers from you, you huff at that, but Simon shushes you gently, “Look, we can talk about who’s courting who later, right now, we have bigger priorities.”

“Of course, sorry, sir,” you say without thinking and you watch as Simon’s pupils dilate at the slip. As if the ache in your core wasn’t painful enough. The way the tension just doubled has you squirming under his gaze.

“Fuck, I really want to go easy on you,” he growls as he grabs your waist, turning you around and tearing you away from Johnny as he sits back, legs spread as he pulls you onto his lap, “But you can’t go calling me sir, not right now.”

There’s a warning and a challenge baked into his words as you hear Johnny laugh quietly behind you. The Scot clearly privy to some in-joke you’re eager to find out about.

You consider the quiet, logical voice that’s telling you to just get this over with, fuck and be done with it. But the way Simon’s fingers are digging into the meat of your hips, and the way his cock throbs as you slowly rock your cunt along the underside of it makes you bold.

Or stupid.

“Message received, loud and clear,” you say breathily as you place your hands either side of Simon’s thick neck, thumbs digging up into the underside of his jaw, “L.T.”

“On your knees,” he grunts as you feel him push you back into Johnny’s waiting arms, you hesitate for a second before he glares at you, “That’s an order.”

You do as you are told, the hardwood flooring biting into your shins as you feel Johnny shift behind you. You’re about to turn your head and ask what’s going on when you feel one of Johnny’s palms on the curve of your hip. You’re pitched forward by his other hand pressing between your shoulders, forcing you onto your hands and knees as you look up to see Simon’s face alight with dark desire.

“Work her open Johnny, get her nice and ready for that pretty dick of yours,” he says, delirium edging his tone as he orders Johnny around.

“On it,” Soap says with a peppy lilt to his voice as he spreads your ass cheeks.

“We need a safe word, the moment it becomes too much, too rough – whatever – you say it and we stop,” Simon orders as you look up to see the tip of his cock dangerously close to your lips.

“Ok,” you nod eagerly as you feel Soap’s thumbs digging into your skin to expose your dripping cunt, “FUBAR.”

“Ok we’ll all go with that, immediate stop on FUBAR, you got that, MacTavish?” Simon asks the Scot, and you whine as Johnny nips at your left ass cheek.

“Loud and clear,” he hums in affirmation as he gropes and paws at your spread cheeks impatiently, clearly waiting for the next order.

“Good,” Simon says with a smile as he cups your chin with one hand and fists the base of his cock with the other, “Go on Johnny, don’t be shy.”

You’re barely given a second to think before Soap’s tongue darts out to tease at your entrance. The hot drag of his wet muscle makes you whine as you fixate on the bead of precome dribbling over Simon’s uncut tip.

“Suck,” he says as he presses the sticky head against your lips. You groan as you think of how Soap did it, hoping you live up to that mouthwatering display.

You do as you are told, letting him press his thick, ruddy tip into your mouth as Soap buries his face into your cunt from behind. You groan as you sink down on Simon’s cock, fingertips scraping on the wood floor as the musky, salty taste of his precome coats your tongue.

“Fuck,” Simon rasps as he cups your cheek, rocking his hips slowly as he chases the wet heat of your mouth, “How does she taste, Johnny?”

“So damned sweet,” he responds, voice muffled as he sucks hard on your clit, his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin as he glides his tongue over your swollen bundle of nerves, “Like fucken’ heaven.”

“Hear that?” Simon coos down at you, a sarcastic pout on his scarred lips as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, “You like it when we talk about you like you’re not even here?”

You nod fervently as you stick your tongue out in earnest, begging Simon to put his cock back in your mouth. You’re incensed, overwhelmed and greedy for anything these men can give you.

You try to blame it all on the drugs, but something deep inside you knows it’s more than that. You’ve wanted this for so long.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon says with a low hiss as he taps the head of his cock on your tongue a few times, pulling it back before you can wrap your lips back around it, “She’s a greedy little thing.”

“Please,” you whimper as Soap teases a finger inside you. He buries himself to the knuckle with ease as his lips wrap around your clit. He flicks and swirls his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves as the wet sound of his lips sucking on your sensitive bud fill your ears.

“What is it, love?” Simon asks with condescension heavy on his tongue, the pet name makes you clench around Soap’s thick digit, “What do you need?”

“Fuck me,” you pant as you feel Soap fucking a second finger into your tight cunt, scissoring and stretching you out as he groans into your sensitive skin, “Please, Si.”

“Oh, it’s Si now, is it?” He retorts with an edge to his voice, “Johnny, stop.”

You cry out in frustration as both men stop touching you, leaving you trembling on your hands and knees as the dull ache in your skull returns. You realise your error too late and you’re burning up as you try to make it right.

“Sir, please,” you cry out as your body aches. Your fingers and toes curl and uncurl as you bite your lip in frustration. The ripple of bittersweet humiliation has you clenching around nothing.

“That’s better,” he scoffs with a smirk before addressing Soap, “Think she can take you, Johnny?”

“Fucken’ hope so,” Soap says with a huff as he sinks two fingers back inside you with no warning, “I need to fuck you, can I, hen?”

You’re panting and whining as you look up to Simon for approval. The wet squelching sounds of Johnny’s fingers fucking in and out of your cunt loud in the otherwise quiet room as you feel pleasure scorching a path down your spine. You’re close but you need more, so much more.

“You ready?” Simon asks as he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones.

“Yes, sir, please, I need you, need you both.”

“You heard her, Johnny, give the poor thing what she needs,” Simon commands as he lines his tip at your lips once more.

You’re greedy and impatient as you take as much of his thick length in as you can manage. You moan around his cock as Johnny notches himself at your core, the stretch already making your thighs tremble.

“C’mere, Johnny,” Simon growls as you look up to see the larger man grip Soap by the back of the neck, crashing their lips together as Johnny’s hips buck forwards. The stretch burns pleasantly as he sheaths himself fully inside you. You’re so impossibly full. The angle of their kiss has your nose pressed to the base of Simon’s cock, his wiry pubic hair brushing your nose as you struggle to control your gag reflex.

You’re a whining mess as you watch them kiss, tongues battling for dominance as you choke down on Simon’s girthy cock. It’s excruciating being held so still, so full of them, it doesn’t take long before you’re tapping out on Simon’s thigh, begging for relief.

The men separate with heavy exhales, a string of spit connecting their lips momentarily before they both look down at you with hungry eyes.

“Sorry, hen, you ok?” Johnny asks as he slowly eases almost all the way back out of you, the heft of his cock dragging deliciously through your walls. You clench hard around his tip, pulling a soft groan from his lips as you squeeze him.

“Yeah,” You nod dumbly before smiling up at them both, “Fucking amazing.”

“Such a good girl for us,” Simon coos as he lowers himself down to kiss you, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You groan as Johnny starts to pick up the pace, you plant desperately into Simon’s open mouth as he lingers with his forehead pressed against yours. A surprisingly tender gesture that makes your chest flutter.

He exhales through his nose as he rocks back onto his knees. He straightens back up, cock held out for you as pearly precome beads at the tip. You lap it up eagerly before suckling on the tip, tongue delving under his foreskin and dipping into his slit.

“Fuck,” Simon growls as he places both hands on either side of your face, pulling your mouth down on his cock, “Too good at that, sweetheart, giving Johnny a run for his money,” he snarls as he gently rocks his hips, feeding you more and more of his cock with every thrust, “God, you look so pretty like this.”

“Aye,” Johnny whines as he squeezes your hips, already starting to snap you back against him with such force you’re mewling around Ghost’s cock, “Look at that ass fucken’ bounce”.” Johnny’s last words are punctuated by the sound of your cheeks slapping against his thick thighs as he delivers two brutal thrusts into your slick walls.

You’re so close, the fire burning under your skin rages on as you swallow around Simon’s cock, breathing heavily through your nose as you feel your throat contract as he pushes in deeper again.

“Shit, Si, I’m close,” Soap groans as he slips a hand between your legs, two thick fingers pressing hard against your clit.

“You’re on brith control right, love?” Simon snarls as he swipes the tears that fall down your cheeks with his thumbs, you nod around his cock and he smirks to himself.

“Come inside her, Johnny, fill her up,” he commands as he withdraws from your mouth once more and you’re about to protest when he tuts, “Want to hear your sweet little moans as you come.”

Johnny pulls you back against him, fingers of his one hand still swirling over your throbbing clit, the other wraps around your throat. You cry out as he fucks up into you as Simon crowds you from the front.

“Come for me, Johnny,” he growls as he presses his chest against you, his cock firm against your belly as he kisses Johnny roughly. His one hand fists in the base of Johnny’s Mohawk as the other grips your waist, pinning you between them.

The smothering heat makes you gasp as your orgasm rips through you, your vision blurs as you clench hard around Johnny’s cock. You’re crying out, a whining mess as Simon ruts against your front, while Johnny fucks you in hard, erratic thrusts as he reaches his peak.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon growls as you feel the hot pulse of his cum splattering against your stomach, followed closely by the last few thrusts from Johnny into your quivering cunt from behind.

Johnny groans low in your ear as he comes deep inside you, his dick twitching with every spurt inside your pulsing walls. You fall forward into Simon’s arms as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

“There you go,” Simon says with a softness so unlike him as the three of you sink to the floor together.

You huddle there for some time, two pairs of lips leaving trailing kisses along your chest, your shoulders, and neck. They kiss one another from time to time, slow, lingering, as you bask in the affection shared between them. Rough fingertips glide over your skin, mapping the curves of your body in a silent display of affection.

“Need to clean up,” Simon finally grunts as you feel his come sticking to your joined bodies as Johnny’s come leaks down your thighs, “Then, sleep.”

“Aye, sir,” Johnny grumbles as he slowly eases out of you.

There’s a tension in your chest, the haze of the drug clearly abating, replaced now with an anxiety that threatens to eat you alive.

You finish up cleaning up with a stack of wet wipes you had in bergen to do a half-decent job at cleaning off the evidence of the evening’s activities from your skin. You pull on your t-shirt and trousers before looking up to see Johnny and Simon are sat together against the wall near where you had been lying earlier that evening.

They’re also fully dressed, and there’s an ache in your chest that makes you needy for their touch, to be skin-to-skin with them again.

“Hey,” you say, barely more than a whisper as you slump in a heap a few feet in front of them.

Johnny’s curled into Simon’s side, head on the larger man’s shoulder. He’s barely awake as he looks up to address you.

“What’s up, hen?” Johnny asks, bright blue eyes glimmering in the low light.

“Yeah, talk to us,” Simon chimes in as he pats the space to his left.

You crawl over slowly, unsure if you should take the space being offered to you.

“What does this all mean? For us, after all this, what do we do now?”

“Whatever you want, hen,” Johnny says, blinking rapidly to shake the fatigue from his eyes, attempting address you more clearly, “We don’t have to put any meaning to this if you don’t want to.”

“Or,” Simon rumbles as he places a hand against the swell of your shoulder, “We can get back home and see how it all plays out, for the three of us, together.”

You consider it for a moment, trying not to make a rash decision, for all you know the drug could still be affecting your decision making. But there’s a wholesome warmth burning under your cheeks as both men look at you with deeply affectionate grins.

“I think I’d like to see where this goes for us, if you’re happy with that?” You ask quietly, fear gnawing at your insides.

“I’d love that,” Johnny says with a gentle yawn.

“So would I,” Simon agrees as he pulls both of you tight against him, “Now sleep, we’ve got a busy few days ahead to get to the exfil on time.”

“Yes, sir,” you and Johnny say in unison, which causes you all to laugh.

It feels too good to be true, too easy.

But for now, you don’t let it bother you, and you fall asleep in a blissful haze as you let yourself hope that something good will come out of this.

“Wait,” you perk up with morbid realisation, “Where are Gaz and Price?”

“In the next room,” Soap says with a smirk on his face, “Probably heard the whole thing.”

“Fuck off, Si, tell me he’s joking?”

“Negative, but it’s not the first time Gaz and Price have caught us fucking,” he shrugs as he flashes you a toothy grin.

“Well, it’s the first fucking time they’ve heard me,” you groan as you bury your face into Ghost’s side, heat burning under your skin as you try not to think about what your CO and fellow sergeant just heard.

“They’ll get used to it,” Soap says as he finds one of your hands and laces his fingers through your own, “Besides, I recon we could convince them both to join in the fun.”

“Johnny,” Simon growls in a half-hearted warning.

“Alrigh’, I’m just kidding,” Soap squeezes your hand in his, “Get some sleep, hen, we’re here for you, no matter what.”

You grumble in discontent as you squeeze back before hunkering down against Simon’s broad form.

Maybe it’s the effects of the drug, but your mind starts to wander as you drift off. You can’t help but imagine what it would have been like if it had been Gaz and Price in here instead of Johnny and Simon.

You fall asleep with a smile on your lips as you let your imagination run wild.

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi

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apdreadful · 2 days

Text

Eddie drops by Bucks place to watch the game, and Tommy answers the door shirtless. His hair is disheveled and there’s something that looks a lot like a bite on his pec.

Tommy looks amused and completely at ease as he steps back to let Eddie in.

Buck comes down the stairs looking flushed and kinda embarrassed. His lips kiss swollen and razor burn on his neck, the top button of his jeans popped open because he had to pull them on fast. And he picks up his shirt from where it was dropped (stripped off him) on the stairs and Tommy looks around for his and Buck finds it under the stairs and throws it to him.

Tommy asks Eddie if he wants a beer as he walks barefoot into the kitchen and opens the fridge pulling out three beers and setting them on the kitchen island before pulling on his shirt and discovers it’s actually Bucks shirt..stretched across his pecs and biceps. Eddie looks at Buck “Really?”

“I’m not going to complain” says Buck with wicked smile and a glint in his eye.

“Evan” Tommy draws out his name as he arches his brow.

“Maybe it’s up in the bedroom” he suggests.

Tommy gives Buck a kiss on his shoulder, and a swat on his ass as he heads upstairs to grab his shirt, his jeans are hanging really low on his hips and Bucks eyes follow him up the stairs before his eyes snap back to Eddie.

Who is barely holding back his laughter “You didn’t have to answer the door you know”

Buck’s blush deepens as he rubs the back of his head. “Sorry we didn’t realize what time it was”

“Obviously”

Buck walks into the kitchen, picks up two of the beers handing one to Eddie and leans back against the counter.

He looks at Eddie again who bursts into laughter.

Buck looks up at the ceiling “I will never hear the end of this, will I” with a deep sigh and a rueful shake of his head.

“Never” Eddie confirms with a smirk.

Buck takes a sip of his beer and shrugs like ‘what are ya gonna do..’

Eddie’s mile softens “You’re really happy aren’t you? Like really happy?”

Buck pauses… “Yeah man. I really am. It just feels different”

Eddie snorts.

Buck rolls his eyes “No I mean. Yeah” he lowers his voice “The sex is phenomenal”

“Didn’t need to know that”

Buck grins “It’s not that…” he searches for the right words “that he’s a man. Like that was some missing ingredient..” he pauses again before continuing “It’s like once I accepted the possibility that maybe what I was looking for, didn’t look the way I thought it would..All I could see was him”

Eddie nods “That’s incredibly sappy bro. But I am really happy for you both. You’re my best friend, my brother, and I’m glad you finally found somebody who deserves you”

Eddie holds out his bottle and Buck taps his against it with a contented smile and then purrs. “So tell me about your date..”

#Tommy’s so smitten #Buck is happy #bisexual buck is canon #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #evan x tommy #bucktommy #kinley #Eddie’s date was with a guy #that Buck and Tommy set him up with #snuck that in

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wearycow-art · 14 hours

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I'm normal..

(Harveys unclothed in these but not totally exposed)

#my art #stardew valley #sdv harvey #harvey sdv #stardew valley harvey #harvey stardew valley #i did not draw the shlong that well #your not missing much #but if u want the full drawing #u can find it on my not safe for jobs account #on twt: wearycow-nsf….#I feel like if I spell the full work my account gets fucked

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servantserah · 5 hours

Text

Crêpes part 18

Previous | First | Next (coming soon)

Let's see where this leads I guess.

Most of you asked for a spoiler warning in case someone missed part 17! Should I keep the warning for the next parts, too? I personally don't feel like it's necessary (also because it reduces the amount of pages I can draw per part). Feel free to let me know what you think.

ℹ️ You can find a guide with all my Good Omens AUs and comics >>here<<!

#serahsart #good omens crepes #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens fanart #good omens comic #aziracrow #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbans #crowley x arizaphale #good omens crowley #antjony j crowley #aziraphale

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wynnyfryd · 3 days

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 64

part 1 | part 63 | tumblr masterlist | ao3

cw: angst, big gooey feelings

—

When Steve gets back to the boathouse, Eddie’s shaking like a leaf; has to touch Steve like a blind man, pat his hands all over his face and down his arms and across his chest. “Know I’ve— got no right to a-ask this of you,” he says through chattering teeth, “but… would you—?”

…Goddammit.

“Get over here,” Steve says. He draws Eddie into him; squeezes as hard as he can, one arm around Eddie’s waist, the other cupping the back of his neck — skin to skin beneath a mess of matted hair.

He says nothing.

There are things he could say; probably should say right now — things like ‘you tried to kill me’ or ‘I almost let you,’ or ‘you just left without saying anything, Eddie, how could you do that?’ — but it feels like treating a wasp sting when someone else needs a tourniquet.

Eventually, the shivering stops.

Eddie pulls back with a bashful expression. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They move to sit down on the floor — side by side, shoulders touching, toes over the edge of the hole in the floorboards. The water moves like ink beneath them, and Eddie looks so beautiful it makes Steve want to die. His hands twitch at his sides, the small, lovesick part of him begging to know why they stopped touching; wants so desperately to press his fingers to the dark circles under Eddie’s eyes. To sink them into his hair and never let go again.

Even though Eddie doesn’t want that.

Even though he left.

Pain zips behind Steve’s eyelids like lightning, leaves the taste of copper on the back of his scorched tongue. He reaches up and pulls his hair — sharp at the root; needs the distraction. Can’t let himself think about his stupid heart right now.

Whatever, or whoever, this Vecna thing is, Steve knows it feeds on grief. Feasts on it; scents sadness in the water like a shark chasing blood. He can’t just swim into the ocean and cut himself for sport. Not unless he wants to end up like Chrissy.

Eddie opens his mouth and offers Steve another knife. “You can say it, you know.”

His tone is gentle; probing — eyes earnest, chin tucked.

“Say what?”

“Ohh, y’know.” Eddie puts his chin in his hand; clucks his tongue. “Whatever’s got you all, uh…” He furrows his brow and pokes his tongue into his cheek, licking back and forth over the smooth skin inside. “I can take it.”

Steve schools his expression. “What if I don’t want to say anything to you?” It’s quiet. Level. Less heat than he intended.

Eddie’s hand comes up to his heart. Chin dipping lower, psychic damage sincerity in his ridiculous Bambi eyes, he locks Steve into his gaze.

Holds him there.

Holds him; nearly makes him squirm.

“Then I’d say I deserve that, too.”

The faintest flicker of a smile; a spark of flint in a pitch black room.

Steve can’t help but catch the flame.

His lips land on Eddie’s with all the delicacy he can manage, hummingbird wings beating away inside his chest. The kiss is soft. Almost timid. Fucking perfect when Eddie starts kissing him back; just feels right; memory slotting into place after weeks of amnesia. Fervent noises, pressing harder, every movement like an oath, Steve pours himself into Eddie — gets his hands back under his hair, tangles his fingers behind his neck and nestles his thumbs in the hollows behind Eddie’s ears. Lets himself come home.

Eddie pulls back enough to whisper, “Jesus Christ, I missed you.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

They both feel it — the bubble bursting. The prolonged whine of a balloon deflating to the floor.

Steve slips from the embrace, hugging his arms around his legs, listening to their harsh breaths in the stale hush that follows.

Eddie mirrors his pose. Taps his fist against the top of his other hand, rings clacking. “Shit, Steve,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m— I’m so fucking sorry. For all of it. For everything.”

“It’s fine,” Steve lies.

It isn’t.

Nothing ever is, these days.

—

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)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

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valkyriexo · 2 days

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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾Late night thoughts 001☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Chan, who one day steps in through the door, his usually vibrant and bubbly energy drained, replaced by a heavy weight on his shoulders. He offers a faint smile in greeting, but he doesn't quite meet your eyes, and you can sense something's off immediately.

Concerned, you abandon your cooking momentarily and approach him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Channie?" you ask softly, noting the tension in his posture. "Are you alright?"

He exhales heavily, his shoulders slumping as he leans into your touch. Tears shimmer in his eyes, threatening to spill over, but he remains quiet, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.

The silence between you is heavy, with the tension building as the seconds go by.

Slowly, he meets your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing. You can see the thoughts raging within him, the struggle to keep his emotions in check, his body trembling.

"Baby," you whisper gently, your voice barely above a murmur, "Please, talk to me. Let me help you." You reach out to rub his hand soothingly, feeling the tension in his grip. Your fingers glide over his, tracing delicate patterns as you offer a comforting touch

"Please," he pleads quietly, so quietly you almost miss it. "Just... just hold me? I need you so much right now." His voice is raw with desperation, each word carrying the weight of his pain.

Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him, feeling the weight of his exhaustion and the burden of his responsibilities, pressing against you. Chan's shoulders shake as he finally succumbs to the torrent of emotions that have been building inside him. Tears stream down his cheeks in earnest now, his facade crumbling in the safety of your embrace. You hold him tighter, your own tears mingling with his as you whisper words of comfort into the quiet of the room. Your heart aches as Chan's tears soak into your shoulder, his anguish echoing in the hushed atmosphere.

"I-I can't," he stammers, his voice choked with tears, "I don't even know where to start. I feel like I'm drowning, and I can't... I can't breathe."

You stroke his back soothingly, trying to offer whatever comfort you can.

"I try to be strong, to keep it together," he continues, his words barely audible amidst his sobs, "but some days, it feels like too much. Like I'm suffocating under the weight of it all."

Your heart aches at his words, the pain etched in every line of his face.

"I didn't want to tell you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper, "because I didn't want to burden you. I'm supposed to be strong. I'm supposed to be..... to be the one people rely on."

You cup Chan's face in your hands, drawing his gaze to meet yours. "But who's there for you, Chan?" you press, your eyes searching his. "You need someone to rely on, too."

"I... I never thought about it," he replies, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I didn't want to admit I needed help."

His words hang heavy in the air.

"I'm scared," Chan finally admits, his voice raw, "scared to show weakness, scared to let people see me struggle."

You hold him even tighter, enveloping him in the warmth of your embrace.

"Showing your struggles doesn't make you weak. It makes you human Chan," You say rubbing circles on his back.

"And I love every part of you, even the vulnerable ones. You don't have to hide from me, Chan."

In the quiet of the room, you hold him close, and you can feel his tension gradually going away, his body relaxing against yours. With each passing moment, his rigid posture softens, his breaths steadying against the rhythm of your own.

In the silent embrace, he realizes: all he ever needed was you.

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leviathanspain · 1 day

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your porcelain doll

anthony bridgerton x reader, colin bridgerton x reader

synopsis: you needed him to see you

a/n: just go with it 😭😭 it was late and i was high

you had been everything anthony had wanted in a wife. educated and from a high society family, hips perfect for bearing children, he could not have asked for more.

yet anthony neglected you, his wife, his viscountess. he would prefer the promiscuous girls from the opera and brothels, than you, his darling, porcelain doll wife.

when he felt the rare urge to dote on you, perhaps the guilt that had made its monthly appearance, anthony would call you his doll, admiring how perfect you have been in this marriage.

“sweet,” his voice was husky as he brushed back the flutters of your hair. he had surprised you by coming to bed at the same time as you. captured between his arms as your dress began to slip down your body, you smiled weakly. you could smell her perfume on his neck, and you felt nauseous. you had walked away, feeling the burn of his touch on your skin.

in your dreams, anthony bridgerton was the noble viscount that you had been promised. completely and utterly enamored with you, making love to you, worshipping you endlessly.

but when you woke up, finding the space next to you, cold and empty, you knew it was a never ending nightmare. one where the viscount would never love you.

you had been married to the viscount for nearly a year and you had yet to meet his second younger brother, colin bridgerton. you had only heard of the man through anecdotes and stories shared by the bridgerton family.

you loved to be around the bridgerton family, especially the dowager viscountess, violet. when in her and his family’s presence, anthony treated you like a wife, as if he loved you.

but as anthony grew busier, and you were pushed aside more and more, your time with the bridgertons had been cut in half.

only when you received a letter addressed to the viscount and viscountess, a rare instance, from colin bridgerton, you knew that once again the bridgerton family would reunite.

you knew that daphne and her children would be present, and as much as you loved them all, her children served as your constant reminder that you continue to fail in the one thing that he asked for.

your entrance was welcomed warmly, daphne standing to greet you, and violet offering you the seat beside her. you felt overwhelmed with their love, and you felt starved of any affection or attention. anthony had hardly said two words to you since presenting his brother’s letter.

as the rest of the bridgertons filed in, you let your eyes wander and try to find the mysterious bridgerton.

you knew it was him, he had been sitting by the piano, lips moving quietly as a finger traced the page. you had heard from eloise and her friend penelope that colin loved to sing, and had a rather good voice. the piano was something that daphne excelled in the most, but you could assume the musical talent ran in the family.

violet had called over her traveler son, “you must meet your brother’s wife!” his wife, your identity seemed to disappear the moment you became the viscountess, that even the dowager failed to notice.

your heart pounded in your chest as the strapping man walked towards you. from what you knew, he was closer to your age than anthony was, and had seemingly gotten stronger overseas.

being gone long, colin did not forget his manners. a bow and a kiss to your hand that nearly left you weeping, colin introduced himself and welcomed you into his family.

his eyes strayed and you felt flushed. colin bridgerton had not been the boy that the family told stories of, he had not been the young boy caught in a vicious scandal, at least not as he was now.

you had walked into the drawing room to search for your missing brooch. dinner was finishing up and you had excused yourself early to do your searching. you had pushed the doors open and found colin bridgerton, who had earlier excused himself for breather, sitting with his feet up on the table.

you stepped back, “i apologize, mr. bridgerton-“ you pulled away and colin shook his head, “please, stay. and call me colin, you are family.” he looked at you in a way that felt-

you sat down, finding some solace in the understanding that there was nothing wrong with a woman sharing a conversation with her husband’s brother. a recently traveled man with many stories to tell.

as colin neared close to you, eyes shining brightly as he went on and on about his travels, you could not stop yourself as you kissed him. a deep kiss that you felt immediate shame for, pulling away until he pulled you back in, his teeth nipping at your lips.

colin had known how anthony treated you, his brother still sent letters whenever he could, and none of them ever had anything to say about you, even when asked. colin could have pushed you away, knowing that it was the right thing to do. but your kiss had been nothing like colin had imagined. better, and it had left with such a rage towards his brother.

anthony could have counted on his fingers how many instances you had embarrassed him. your early excusal had sent him into a quiet rage, leaving early had not been approved by him, and now as he went searching for you to take you to bed, anthony could not find you.

he had heard soft chatter coming from the drawing room. anthony pushed the doors open as soon as he heard the rare sound of your laugh. he found his brother next to you, tangled in a kiss with your hands meshed against his body.

you turned at the sight of the door creaking and you felt immediate shame. the idea of adultery had never crossed your mind, but now as you had committed the act, nonetheless with his own brother, you remembered why you did it in the first place.

his voice broke as the words came out, emotion filled with rage, a quiet rage that floated off of him, “y/n- what is this?”

you felt sick, eyes muddled with tears as you shook your head, “this marriage is rotten, bitter,” you felt your mouth suddenly dry, “it had consumed me inside and out, not even my womb bears the bastard sons you’ve given your many whores, and i hope i never do.”

there, staring at the furious face of his brother, colin could now see the true nature of your relationship. there was an intensity in anthony’s eyes that made colin fear the worst. he stepped in front of you, eyes blazing at his own brother, “you do not realize your mistake, colin.” anthony seethed, thoughts rushing through his head.

you looked at your husband, regret filling a pit in your stomach. you would not return to your bed, where you feigned ignorance when he would not come to bed. “anthony, go.” you whispered, you were shaking, and for the first time, it was as if anthony had seen you, you were more than his porcelain doll, to be seen and not heard, to be beautiful and innocent.

the viscount was speechless and he exited the room, a heaviness lingered in the air as your mind rushed to your very few options. colin had seemed to sense your distress, perhaps your shivering like a leaf that tipped him off, “y/n, we will take care of you.” there was reassurance that you hadn’t expected- and you remained in awe of colin bridgerton.

#bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton smut #colin bridgerton fluff #colin bridgerton fanfiction #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton smut #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton angst #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton angst

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sidetrek · 2 days

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I've basically been gunning on teaching myself comics (with a few wrong turns 🥴) the last few years and I've been pleased at everything I've learned so far and proud of the projects I've completed! But I think I really need to accept that the way I draw is just not social media friendly 🧍‍♂️

#really wish i could be super cool and be like social media has no power over me #but i just feel awful every time i log in to anything #i know i'm only at a certain place in terms of technical skill #and need to really keep improving #but i always feel like no matter what fandom i'm in or what i'm drawing i'm just leagues behind everyone else #my stuff is somehow missing some key thing that has appeal #p sure my 'skill' if i have any in art is sequential storytelling and not the actual art itself tbh #doesn't mean i'm not a dumbass who's just like surprisedpikachu.jpeg every single time lmao #i think my parents going through more health scares is making me just freak out about my life actually lol gonna delete this soon enough

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leclercstars · 3 days

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game, sex, match.

tashi x art x patrick Summary: After Art and Patrick's match at the challenger, the three waste no time finishing what was started in the boys' hotel room all those years ago.

Warnings: SMUT! 18! threesome, oral sex (m. receiving), riding first challengers fic yuppp i am so excited

“Now that was some good fucking tennis,” Tashi said with a sigh as she slid into the driver’s seat of her and Art’s Range Rover. Art was still panting heavily, sweat glistening from the match he had just fought for. Tashi was already turned on just from watching her boys fight on the court, Art’s mussed up hair- that was starting to show the curls from his Stanford days- certainly wasn’t helping the throbbing sensation growing between her thighs. Art leaned over the console- planting an extremely passionate kiss, a bold move considering there were still in the parking lot at the fucking Phil’s Tire Town Challenger.

Tashi and Art’s phones buzzed at the same time.

“Hilton Inn. Room 204” read the text from Patrick.

“He made a fucking groupchat?” Tashi sighed, palming her face in horror.

“It’s been like, ten minutes for gods sake,” Art chuckled while glancing to see what Tashi’s reaction was. “Did you already put the address in on Google Maps?” Art was wide eyed- mouth agape laughing at Tashi trying to hide her eagerness

“I mean hey, we have some unfinished business from after the ADIDAS party!” Tashi and Art were laughing almost uncontrollably, garnering some strange glares from people passing by the car.

“Step on it,” Art joked as Tashi purposely pressed all the way down on the gas- jolting him forward.

“I can’t believe you’re so okay with this, Art.”

“I don’t mind sharing.”

The two arrived- wasting no time heading up in the elevator.

Patrick hastily answered the door- already wearing boxer briefs.

“Jesus Patrick, maybe a little too excited?” Art scoffed

“Okay Artie maybe it was hot in here? Ever consider that?”

As the two bickered, Tashi set herself down on the edge of the bed- slowly untying the ribbon that was holding her wrap dress together until she was sitting there in nothing but a white lace thong.

Patrick and Art- still embroiled in whatever bullshit they were discussing didn’t even notice until Tashi cleared her throat.

“Fuck.” Art groaned as the two’s eyes widened in awe. All these years later- the two still looked at her as if she was sculpted by Davinci himself.

They sidled up next to her- both with muscles bulging from the match that ended merely an hour ago. This was very different from the first time this happened- the teenage fear gone.

Patrick wasted no time grabbing Tashi’s face and thrusting his tongue into her throat- immediately asserting dominance. His hand trailed up Tashi’s body- fondling and pinching each nipple- drawing soft moans from her into his lips. Art’s head was resting on her shoulder- pleading eyes looking up at her- waiting for a drop of her attention- like sweet nectar to him.

She pulled away from Patrick- smirking at Art’s extremely visible erection through his checkered boxers. She pushed Art down on the bed- tearing his boxers off- exposing his weeping cock to earning a loud groan from Patrick- who was still fervently kissing her neck. She planted gentle kisses all the way down Art’s body- making sure to not miss a single scar or curve with her lips. Art was writhing- hand draped over his forehead with his eyes shut in pure ecstasy.

Tashi- soaking wet from Patrick’s rough hands on her nipples- slid herself easily on Art’s throbbing cock- making him whine and buck his hips.

“You’re gonna be good for me baby?” she cooed, feeling his pre-cum drip inside her just from that statement alone.

“Yes, yes Tashi fuck.” Art was turning into a complete fucking mess- and Tashi hadn’t even moved her hips yet. As she started to softly roll herself onto his abs, Patrick sidled up next to him.

Art reached for Patrick, badly wanting to feel the way he would react to his touch. His fingers grazed along his slit- the wetness coating his hands. He grabbed Patrick’s jaw- years of memories rushing through his mind as he stuck his two fingers into his own mouth- sucking and licking every single drop of Patrick’s cum off while Patrick watched, eyes glazed over with lust.

Tashi was running her hands all over Art’s torso- greedily. A jealousy beginning to burn inside her as she watched her husband drink his opponent’s pre-cum. The flame of jealousy stoked into a fire of ecstasy as Art began thumbing her throbbing clit- his attention now moved to her as he lazily stroked on Patrick.

Tashi’s head was thrown back- pleasure was completely overtaking her, moans turning into something that resembled screams. She came all around Art’s cock- seeping all over his abs as Patrick leaned over to lap it up. She gasped- shocked at how he wasted no time in wanting to taste what he hadn’t even created.

Art’s orgasm was soon to follow- as Tashi rode out hers, volts electricity shot through his tired body- as he cried out- feeling every drop of cum coat her walls.

The three laid down next to each other.

“What nothing for me?” Patrick laughed.

“Today just isn’t your day huh?” Art said, head on Patrick’s chest.

#challengers #challengers fic #challengers fanfiction #challengers smut #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #mike faist #josh o'connor #zendaya #art donaldson smut #tennis fic #patrick zweig smut #luca guadagnino #tashi duncan smut #art donaldson image

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