#i don’t want her to be perfect but Jesus Christ
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More Than Meets the Eye #50 — The Midlife Crisis Cruise Comes to an End
Our issue begins on Earth— not Swearth, but honest-to-god Earth— where Optimus Prime and Jetfire are watching a broadcast. It’s not syndicated television like I Love Lucy or The Transformers (1984), however. No, this broadcast is coming from some of our favorite Lost Lighters, detailing their last will and testament.
Nautica wants to be buried on her home planet, and doesn’t give a hot gay fuck what they engrave on her sparkcase. Also she’s missing a good chunk of her face, but don’t worry about that too much.
Chromedome’s just happy that he’s dying WITH his husband this go around. I’m sure Brainstorm’s also thrilled to not have the “please please please stop stabbing yourself in the brain to avoid the pain of being a widower Jesus Christ we can’t keep doing this”.
Rewind takes the opportunity to poke Chromedome in the inferiority complex one last time, making his message out to Dominus Ambus. Our resident lovebirds want to “enter the after spark simultaneously”, though that seems more like something to address with whoever’s killing them.
Over on Cybertron, in Metroplex’s titties, it would seem this broadcast is VERY wideband, as Starscream and Scoop (we’ll go over whatever the fuck’s going on there in another post) witness Nightbeat’s will and testament, though considering Nightbeat’s technically undead, I’m not sure how much legal weight it holds. Having done the whole “dying” thing before, I’m sure he’s spent many a long, sleepless night thinking about how it would happen next time. Ikea Johnson wants a “Neoprimalist” funeral, where they preserve only the head. Interesting that Nightbeat's religious sect is the same as Flywheels, the Scavenger who only existed to be a stand-in for the word "fuck".
Over on Luna 1, Red Alert is convinced that Megatron is using his gun mode to threaten Nightbeat. Fort Max isn’t so sure.
Minimus shows off the most recent trick he’s learned, saying the word “fun” with only stuttering twice. He wants to be buried on the moon, next to all of Rodimus’s failed pregnancies, and wearing the skin of a man who’s been dead for thousands of years.
Whirl doesn’t want a funeral, though you’d think he’d at least want his corpse thrown in the general direction of the Wreckers’ base, where every member gets a slot in the Zone of Remembrance as part of the onboarding. I know he got kicked out, but being shot out of a rail gun at Debris sounds roughly his speed.
Rung only requests that, should he die in his vape pen form, that he be dismantled. He’s so committed to preventing underage smoking, and for that I commend him.
Rung’s request greatly disturbs the Scavengers, who seem to have forgone fixing the Krok-shaped hole in the wall and buying a couch more than two of them can sit on at a time, in order to afford a replacement TV, after Krok fastball-specialed a golden disc through the last one.
On another part of Cybertron, Windblade and Wheeljack watch Velocity state that she doesn’t regret a single thing that’s happened while she’s been a part of the Lost Light. To recap, in the few months Velocity’s been aboard: Thunderclash almost died of being too perfect, Velocity’s first boss ran off to go bang a billionaire with a sword collection, Swerve almost died from too much television, her second boss ran off to get roped into the Polycule Wars, Tailgate exploded, Rung was revealed to be practicing without a license by way of a weird gibbon with a ball gag and his serial killer boyfriend, and she became the only practicing medical professional aboard a ship of over 200, after failing to pass her medical exams ten times. Oh, and she wants to be recycled.
Optimus wants to go save them, thinking that there’s still time. However, the Lost Light isn’t responding, and it doesn’t actually matter anyhow— these recording were sent out weeks ago.
Looks like that’s a series wrap on Nautica, Chromedome, Rewind, Nightbeat, Minimus, Whirl, Rung, and Velocity! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!
Three weeks prior, on the planet of Miliarium, action is happening:
Being on your headset in the middle of a battle seems rather rude, but I suppose sacrifices to politeness have to be made, when one of your co-captains is effectively forbidden from stepping foot on any planet that’s aware of Cybertron’s existence, given that he, y’know, is the face of a cause that slaughtered billions over the course of millions of years.
(No, don’t ask Optimus how relations with Earth are going.)
Megatron, continuing to command from orbit, tells Whirl to go help Cyclonus and Crossblades with the Rust Giants’ longship, asking for no casualties. Which is sort of like asking a horse on cocaine to not freak out and kick someone in the head, if that horse also had guns tied to 30% of its body.
Rodimus asks Megatron if he’s enjoying himself, playing a pacifist run of a wartime strategy game with their lives, and Megatron says that he’s “rumbled”; which I’m not sure if I’m search-engining wrong, but I don’t know that even the British are saying that to mean they’re right chuffed or tallywackered about a situation, or whatever. Rodimus is suddenly faced with a Rust Giant that he doesn’t even come up to the knee of, but luckily we have a new superhero to save the day, by way of incredible violence.
Looks like we’re still workshopping the battle-cries.
Tailgate punched this guy so hard it cause a jump-cut to the post-battle celebration, where Rodimus shows off his multi-typefacial abilities, Megatron perpetrates his bigotry towards organics, the Cybertronians make galactic news for a not-awful reason for once, and Swerve is also here! For some reason! It looks like it’s gonna be all peaches and cream from here on, so long as we ignore the first three pages of this issue!
Hey, Cyclonus, you have to wait for him to call you, you're not an Autobot. Just because the little white guy you're Sufjan Stevens-level attached to is going, doesn't mean— Cyclonus, hey. Hey, Cyclonus. Cyclonus. Cycl—
Later, back on the Lost Light, class is in session. We finally get a look at those course Megatron’s been teaching, only briefly mentioned by Riptide in issue #29. The current course track is on the Knights of Cybertron, Megatron having assigned those in attendance to write essays tackling “pre-Functionist folklore and contested heritage”.
Today’s class consists of:
Minimus (old as balls, former high society)
Skids (the best at everything)
Brainstorm (literal genius)
Perceptor (slightly-less-literal genius)
Nautica (jack-of-all-trades brainiac and bibliophile)
Crosscut (former senator, current playwright, therefore probably has at least some sort of degree)
Nightbeat (nosy as fuck, loves to figure shit out)
Hound (former Primal Vanguard)
Thunderclash (perfect student, researcher, friend, confidante, and maybe even lover)
Grapple (not much to say here, other than he’s fucking jacked in IDW)
Xaaron (chief legal advisor for the Autobots)
And Riptide (created during the war and therefore has the least connection to Cybertron's folklore, canonically not a good test-taker)
Poor Riptide's grades don’t stand a snowball's chance in hell against his peers', but good on him for sticking with the classes regardless.
This essay was assigned to help students establish context for the Knights within a world where they have not existed for millions of years, having disappeared since they embarked on their quest to Cyberutopia; a world where information creep, the slow degradation of memory as time passes, has made them into mythological figures. Megatron posits that the only thing we really know about the Knights is that they failed to do what they set out to do, as the universe is not a peaceful place, himself arguably being exhibit A of that failure. Still, he intends to use this course to help the Lost Light’s crew understand the Knights to the best of their current, modernity-biased ability, prior to potentially meeting them. Considering that the Knights will be deciding Megatron’s fate, perhaps this is also for him to grapple with understanding his own end.
Anyway, let’s look at a plot device.
The last time we saw this symbol was during issue #46, both drawn by Grimlock on his walls, paired with the words “prepare confront repel”, and then on some mysterious fellows who were working with Krok’s nasty little friend Demus and someone called "The Grand Architect". However, the first time we saw it was with Skids in #21, after he went through Tyrest’s space bridge and talked to a giant technicolor ball of light.
Seeing this image kickstarts Skids’s memory, enough so that he interrupts class over it. Nautica has also seen this symbol, at an exhibit on Troja Major (a planet that Roberts will use as a dumping ground for many plot points in the sequel series to MTMTE) where it was claimed to be some sort of coat of arms. Thunderclash also knows this symbol, having seen it with his beautiful mind and kind heart in his visions, the same visions that were leading him to the Knights and allowing him to create a map to Cyberutopia. Nautica asks Skids to write out the symbol that he “heard” phonetically into her space phone, in a move that will prove HIGHLY useful later on. Perceptor adds in his two cents, showing off that he’s wearing the “feminine” nose-type today, stating that he had talked to one of the Circle of Light members back in Season 1, who had theorized that the Knights of Cybertron was either originally made up of OR broke down into clans, and that the symbol/map Rodimus and Thunderclash were drawing is merely connected to part of the Knights, and that there could be others floating around.
Nightbeat thinks that all this brainstorming (which hasn’t involved Brainstorm, oddly enough) is super cool and great, showing off his anime thumb in approval. When Minimus tries to give Megatron props for bringing everyone together to figure this out, he finds that Megatron is having some troubles, hunched over his podium as far as his fucked up old man toy articulation will allow. When Minimus approaches to see what’s wrong, he gets punched clear across the room for his troubles. Then this happens:
Look, I don’t care if 99.9% of the Cybertronian population can reclaim, you shouldn’t just limp your wrist at your first officer in the middle of class.
No, what Megatron is actually doing is pointing the fusion cannon he doesn’t have anymore, but had attached to his arm for roughly 4 million years, directly at Minimus’s tiny little skull. Quickly coming back to himself, Megatron is both horrified and mortified by what he’s done, offering nothing more but a quick apology before he dismisses the class and bolts, not even helping Minimus off of the floor.
The following day, Velocity’s paying a visit to Megatron’s room, which is STILL as barren as the most dire of single male living spaces. Velocity’s here because Megatron missed his appointment yesterday, after whatever happened in the classroom. Megatron reminds her that the weekly appointment is for him receiving his ration of “fool’s energon” which is meant to keep him in a weakened state, which arguably shouldn’t make it medicine in the traditional sense. Velocity reminds him that he nearly knocked Minimus Ambus’s (yeah, she uses his full name, guess she’s not been around long enough to get “just Minimus” privileges) block off, and that if Megatron had been at full strength, we might be dealing with a murder situation instead.
Though Minimus IS a load bearer, who regularly slings around a body three times his size, on top of weapons, so maybe not. Also, there’s an even smaller guy inside the first mustached guy, so honestly it’d probably be fine.
Does Velocity even know about the irreducible Minimus? Is that in his medical history? Does she even know that Ultra Magnus and Minimus Ambus are the same person? Because Megatron didn’t even know until they found that corpse on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, and Magnus was his lawyer for the trial as well as being his SIC. Really, what are the legal ramifications of Minimus having assumed the identity of a dead man, now that Tyrest isn’t there to keep up the charade and the secret is a bit more open? Does Minimus have legal claim to Magnus’s identity, or at least ownership of the armor? Can Minimus lay claim to any property he purchased as Magnus, or that the previous Magnuses had purchased prior to their deaths? Was Minimus legally declared dead prior to undertaking the role of Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, if only to make things easier in terms of paperwork? Can Minimus sign off on things, and if so, does he use his own signature, or Magnus’s? If he signed something as Magnus, would any contract bearing it be rendered temporarily void whenever he’s not wearing his work pants? How much of Minimus’s existence makes him cry late into the night with how legally dubious it is? Does Delta Magnus know about Ultra Magnus being a skin suit? I feel like we don’t focus on how fucked up this whole situation is nearly enough.
Anyway, Velocity asks after Megatron’s medicine, probably because First Aid’s medical note-taking skills often get usurped by his need to write SpringerxReader fanfiction. She mentions that what they’ve been feeding Megatron over the last year have some side effects, which Megatron seems surprised by. Considering he’s felt sickly and crampy this whole time, the side effects are likely meant to be the intent of the medication.
Velocity then takes a gander at the dents Megatron put into his head when he had his little freakout, stating that “chemo-sedatives” can change one’s whole personality in extreme cases, as well as increased stress levels, as Megatron admits that the reason he crushed his head with his hands is that he heard voices screaming. However, Megatron doesn’t think stress caused such a thing.
To recap how the last year has gone for Megatron: he was forced to renounce the cause he had led for the last 4 million years, became co-captain of a fucking Carnival cruise ship, had 95% of his crew disappear from reality, found a bunch of corpses, got slapped in the face by Soundwave’s dad, had to lie to Rewind’s face to make him okay with killing himself so that everyone else might live, got shot as an infant, gaining anywhere from three-to-five fathers as a result, visited the most passive-aggressive garden in the galaxy, got stabbed in the chest and brained with a flat-screen television and then had to apologize for it, and was non-consensually hugged by a swarm of flesh-eating insects parading around in his SIC’s skin suit.
Velocity gets a call on her smart watch, Swerve on the other end demanding her presence at the medibay, seeing as she’s the only doctor on the ship now, and there are multiple people having a crisis.
Smash cut to Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron standing on the bridge, their colors looking super fucked up and light bloomed out, because this is a 40-page issue with a shit-ton of detail and characters, so we’ve got three colorists, two artists, and an extra inker on for this one. They’re meeting with Rodimus, whose fingers have shrunk down to the size of shoestring potato fries, because Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron heard some sort of awful noise in their brains at the exact same time. Chromedome is here to support his husband, because he loves him so, so much, kissy-noise kissy-noise. Cyclonus is here mainly to clarify that he’s a badass who no one has ever heard cry, because emotional vulnerability and expressing pain are for pussies, unless you’re doing it by way of self-harming directly onto your face meat.
Only Tailgate and Rewind actually admit to what they heard, Tailgate hearing Cyclonus berate him for falling for Getaway’s tricks and Rewind hearing Dominus berate him for not doing enough to find him. I’d imagine both Rung and Swerve were hearing things relating to their professionalism, given that Rung fucking sucks at his job, and Swerve’s gonna fry the moment Ten gets a union sorted out. Megatron, is well, Megatron, so there’s a litany of awful things that he could have heard.
Rodimus has Blaster reveal that the ship received a signal at the exact same time that these people had their little brain event. Brainstorm hypothesizes that what happened was some sort of psychological assault, perhaps of Galactic Council origin, as a means of testing a new brain weapon. Magnus, who has been up on an upper level with a clipboard up to this point, notes that they could trace the signal. Mainframe informs him that they have, but the origin doesn’t seem to correspond to any known location in the navigation, and they’d have to physically go there to see what’s up. Which isn’t sketchy in the slightest.
Rodimus wants to load up on his big, beautiful Rodpod with everyone, so they can find who did this and make them stop. When Magnus questions if this is a wise course of action, Rodimus uses American grammar to trip up Magnus’s British-based spellcheck, so he gets to do whatever he wants. This is a trick he’s picked up since Drift left, as the old game of “pitting my people-pleaser hippy dippy boytoy and my no-nonsense stick-up-the-ass sentient rulebook against one another, so whatever I wanted to do from the start can seem like a pleasantly centralized option” doesn’t work very well when you replace the boytoy with a grumpy old man who tried to murder everything with a heartbeat.
Velocity wants to join the trip alongside Team Rodimus, but Mainframe has his reservations. I don’t blame him, considering she is, again, the only medical doctor currently on board this ship. He suggests she take along some personal protection, just in case.
…I mean, he’ll definitely make sure any bad guys who come her way will die horribly, if nothing else. Also, apparently the Rodpod's artificial gravity goes all the way around.
Nautica’s spent the last few weeks tricking out the Rodpod with a fancy schmancy new teleport drive, because Rodimus was annoying her to the point where if she didn’t give him what he was moaning about she might have had to kill him. Megatron is hesitant to use the drive, but after being informed that there are safety perimeters in place that’ll keep the ol’ Rodimus Podimus from teleporting inside a asteroid or whatever, he pulls the level and they end up in the dark.
No, not space dark, don’t be funny. That’s my job, and they don’t pay me for it, which should tell you how dire the situation is. This is a special sort of dark. The sort of dark that leads to panic and lethal levels of quipping. Rodimus cuts the lights on, but it does very little to offset the absolutely suffocating darkness outside. Rewind notes that there aren’t any stars, and Tailgate admits that he doesn’t know how space works. That’s alright Tailgate, neither do any of the people who draw or color this comic. You’re amongst (created by?) friends here.
The scanners reveal that there’s something 3000 miles in front of them. And behind them. And to the left, to the right, 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight— that is to say, they’re surrounded by something the size of a planet. After disabling the safety protocols on the Rodimus Podimus, the gang find themselves on the surface of Necroworld, where the Necrobot Censere lives and operates his many plinths to the living and dead. Megatron isn’t exactly thrilled to be back here. Nightbeat on the other hand, is overdose on mystery, and he couldn’t be happier. Nobody’s sure what the fuck is going on. There’s no time to theorize, however, as half the gang just got blown sky high.
Everyone books it back to the Rodpod to escape the dozen attack craft coming after them, but there’s more trouble here— the teleport drive is dead. Which is weird, because they should have had enough juice to get to and from their little trip. When Rodimus tries to contact the Lost Light, there’s no response. They’re not responding. Megatron tells him that those are two different things, mirroring the same thing Optimus said about trying to contact the Lost Light after he and Jetfire viewed the will tapes. Everyone else is busy trying to figure out who the hell could be firing on them, all of them roughly coming to the same conclusion that Cybertronians as a whole aren’t terribly well liked, and the Lost Lighters have made a bit of a name (derogatory) for themselves, since they insulted the Galactic Council, caused the end of the 16-million year Stentarian war, and have ruined at least one bar with physical violence over home movies.
Rodimus tells Megatron to park the Rodpod at the Necrobot’s citadel, just in time for a missile to hit the ass-end of the shuttle, blowing off Magnus’s arm, shredding off roughly half of Nautica’s face, and giving Cyclonus an excuse to hold Tailgate in his arms. Everyone bolts to get inside, Nautica being carried by Skids so we can further solidify the straightest pairing in the series. Once they’re all inside, their attackers retreat, and we see where Censere’s gotten to in all this.
Let’s give him a hand, folks!
While Velocity looks over the body, Nightbeat deals with his personal Santa Claus being dead by way of trying to figure out what happened. Megatron, meanwhile, noticed that the craft that attacked them were of Decepticon design, and he tells Ravage to go check it out. Honestly, I doubt he was the only one to notice, given that all but three of the people on this trip were dealing with the Decepticons in some form or fashion all throughout the war, and could therefore identify the make of the crafts, if not the model, so I’m not sure what the deal is with this secrecy.
Brainstorm is brought over to Nightbeat to help solve this mystery, and he promptly identifies that some of Censere’s equipment is very similar to the stuff Tyrest used for the Aequitas trials, likely used to figure out what sparkflowers to plant where. Rewind, having popped on his sparkliest nipple pasties on, because he hates Censere and wants to get glitter all over his house, asks the boys to scootch on over so he can try to call the Lost Light. Nightbeat thinks that Censere tried to sabotage a signal someone else had sent in an attempt to lure Team Rodimus (and friends) to the planet, and that resulted in the brain attack that had happened earlier in the day. Unfortunately, Censere didn’t spend any time with Rodimus the last time the Lost Light visited, so he didn’t get a taste of the ridiculous way Rodimus likes to live his life, and why the psychic attack wouldn’t work.
Rewind gets the phone working, calling Rodimus over to get on the horn. Magnus stands in the background, showing off his grievous amputation. After a bit of fiddling with the settings on their end, the Lost Light makes official contact with Team Rodimus.
Getaway, last we saw him, was very much in prison, but Rodimus isn’t going to focus on that niggling little detail right now, as he asks for the Lost Light to swing by to pick up the team so they don’t all die. Getaway sort of DOES want to focus on that detail, however, as he very much didn’t appreciate being fetish fuel throughout the holiday season, and, despite his name, didn’t actually escape that setup. No, Getaway had help.
Man, guess Megatron should’ve reconsidered failing Riptide on his essay.
Speaking of Megatron, he walks up about now to see what all the hubbub’s about. Rodimus, looking like he’s about to cry, realizes that Mainframe lied to them about not being able to track the signal. Getaway gives him points for getting that right, but really, he wants to drive home the point that the entirety of the crew wanted Megatron’s little pals off the ship. And that’s what it’s really about, at the end of the day. Getaway hates that high command gave Megatron a party cruise to live out his last days on, last days that might not even happen, with the track record of this goddamned quest. He’s sick of Rodimus and pals acting like this whole arrangement isn’t an affront to every single life that’s been snuffed out because of Megatron’s actions.
Everyone other than Whirl seems pretty bummed out by these accusations. Swerve pipes up, enraged that he’s been doomed to die alongside everyone else— he doesn’t even LIKE Megatron. Getaway reveals that at some point or another, he and Atomizer (the interior designer turned bowman, you’ll recall) approached every single crew member and asked if they thought Megatron deserved to have a second chance and also, completely unrelated, but what would you do in the event of a coup? Anyone who didn’t provide a desirable answer got visited by the nudge gun fairy— that gun that can fire thought into your brain, or just erase memories if fired dry. The collection of headaches main cast have been experiencing over the last several issues? The side effect of being shot. Skids especially does not like this reveal.
Of course, Getaway isn’t just upset with Megatron’s leadership— he’s also mad as hell what’s supposed to be a trip to find their ancestors, who will guide them back onto the straight and narrow, has, in actuality, been Rodimus’s midlife crisis road trip. Getaway wasn’t even here for Rodimus and Drift’s ass-slapping contests and insulting galactic officials who want the Cybertronians dead, but he didn’t need to be. He took one look at the Rodpod and decided he needed to kill Rodimus right then and there.
Rodimus, at this point, remembers the list Atomizer had offered him back during the trial. Magnus, biting his lip at the idea of a list existing, asks what that’s all about, and Rodimus explains. Getaway really was hoping that Rodimus would take the bait, so he could’ve blackmailed Rodimus into stepping down and letting literally anyone else take over. Probably Magnus, at that point in the timeline, given that he hadn’t gotten buddy-buddy with Megatron yet at that point. Unless Getaway considers acting as someone’s lawyer under order of the space pope as being too close to an individual.
Getaway decides that this conversation has reached its natural conclusion, as he’s got questing to get done, and it should be moving at a pretty even clip now, since he’s excised all the distractions. Rodimus swears to come after him, but Getaway doubts it’ll happen, given what’s happening next.
While this debacle has been happening, Ravage has been busy searching a crash site, trying to uncover the identity of who the hell’s decided to attack them. Tarn commits a microagression at him, before firing his twin fusion cannons.
The call ends, Getaway cutting off the comm to all contact.
Ravage shows back up at this point, to give everyone the bad news.
Nightbeat, honey, the tragedy is in the opposite direction.
Now, that’s technically the finale of the main story, but there’s a little bonus comic attached to the end, acting as a sort of sideways epilogue to hint at what Getaway and his merry band of mutineers will be getting up to, since we aren’t seeing them again for a bit.
Our little backup strip begins right before the original launch of the Lost Light, where we see some guys we haven’t seen the 2012 Annual issue. Shock and Ore wander around what will one day become Swerve’s, Shock convinced that this ship is actually the ship they lost 5 million years prior, the Unitrex-1. Ore isn’t so sure, but as the readers, we saw the exact moment that Unitrex-1 disappeared in issue #38, after Rodimus forgot to wash his hands while putting the quantum engine together. Shock, wanting to prove that he’s right, fumbles around in the dark, looking for the graffiti he carved into the underside of a table. Ore gets a call on his space Blackberry while he’s doing this, and we finally get the other half of that call Prowl made in issue #1, after he failed to get Chromedome to stay on Cybertron. The Duobots have 20 minutes to get Overlord’s massive, lippy ass on the ship. Knowing that that isn’t a ton of time, the two quickly book it out of the bar, leaving the spectral form of Skids to look really bummed out.
Later, at Swerve’s grand (secret) opening, we see some more old faces.
Whoa now, Drift, you’re not supposed to be back until next issue!
Pipes thinks he’s been cursed to not have friends, since Hubcap is still at his dead-end job with the Wreckers, and Riptide was too busy being in a coma to come say goodbye. How rude!
Drift doesn’t seem to particularly want Pipes around more than necessary, pushing him to be friends with Rewind, who he describes as having kind eyes. Whether Drift is doing this to keep Pipes safe from overhearing any Overlord-related secrets, keeping his ass-slapping and sexually-tense sword training time with Rodimus safe, or just because he finds Pipes to be mildly annoying isn’t clear. Pipes, however, is looking for more than friendship— he’s looking to bone down.
Pipes’s ideal partner is wide as they are tall, with tits to match and at least one alt-mode that he can use as a yacht. Drift tells him he can introduce him to Tailgate, though something tells me Pipes isn’t really Tailgate’s type, given that he can actually say what he means and doesn’t have some fucked-up facial situation.
It’s really too bad that Pipes died, because I bet he would have loved Nautica, and he would have REALLY loved Nickel.
Later still, we see all of our doctors together— even Ambulon is there! In one piece, even! Ambulon wants to tell First Aid something, and First Aid automatically tries to make it a cosmetic thing, because of COURSE Ambulon would be insecure about his bad skin, and what he really needs is a better cleanser. What Ambulon actually wants to talk about, though, is his alt mode, and the fact that the puns involved with being part of a Combiner make him want to die. First Aid understands, but Swerve, known menace to society, might not be so compassionate, as he throws a grenade into the back of Ambulon’s head, triggering his transformation. Ambulon is mortified, and Swerve does the thing that Ambulon literally just said he hates. First Aid continues to rip flakes of paint off of Ambulon, as the specter of Velocity watches, looking pretty bummed about the fact that she never got to be part of banter like this.
Later on than that, Rewind and a wheelchair-bound Rung are in the currently-empty Swerve’s, as Rewind calls Chromedome to gather up one of the groups for those storytelling circles Rewind organized to try to fix Rung’s brain. He hangs up, then tells Rung that once his brain works again, they’re going to have a goddamned chat about Dominus Ambus, which is only mildly hampered in its threat by the fact that Rewind standing is barely the same height as Rung sitting down.
Rewind then gets to work writing out the story map for when the “Shadowplay” group gets there, as the specter of Chromedome reaches out longingly for the dead version of his husband. He laments that this Rewind died without closure, but the ghostly specter of Rung reminds him that there are rules to this, and they have to leave now. Not sure why Rung’s here to watch himself be threatened by Pipsqueak McGee. Is he actually doing his job for once, helping guide someone through their grief? I doubt it, since Chromedome isn’t a hottie bo-body like Skids, and his problems haven’t (directly, at least) caused the sort of trouble that make entire star systems hate you like Megatron.
Later, during the Overlord disaster, Perceptor sprints into Swerve’s, shouting for a medic, as the rest of the battered and beaten watch. Hoist, himself hooked up to the wall by some sort of cable, while wearing his extra-special Rodimus Star, offers to help, though he’s technically an engineer, and whatever he’s gonna do probably won’t have any consideration for the soul or ability to feel pain. Perceptor was using Tripodeca— sweet, beloved, friend to all, who was the star of the post-Overlord mass funeral Tripodeca— as a, uh, tripod for his rifle, when Overlord probably noticed that the ol’ science sniper looked sort of familiar and did a lil’ grabbing with his big nasty hands. Hoist asks if Perceptor is going to stop Overlord, and considering how things went the last time Overlord was the star of the show, I doubt Perceptor thought he was gonna get lucky twice in terms of survival, especially when Overlord is riGHT BEHIND HIM OH GOD LORDY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH
How Perceptor survived this isn't clear, but we know he did, as he continued to show up in the story past issue #15 in a decidedly alive, non-paste form. His specter watches this scene unfold, expression unreadable.
Post-Luna 1, Swerve stands in his ruined bar dejectedly, when he realizes that quite a few people have shown up to help him clean up the mess, as long as he promises to reward their hard work with reopening once it’s done. As everyone works to get things back in order, Swerve tells them to keep an eye out for a non-trashed Legislator that he could use as a bouncer, once he fucks around with its head enough to make it do what he wants. Ten’s specter watches as his shitty boss and arguable father is gifted the body that would become him, making a note to get his union going with a bit more urgency.
Later, on the day of the “Fuck Off Megatron 2-for-1 Drink Deal”, Crosscut lead Riptide, Mirage, and Nautica on a tour of the ship. Mirage notes that Swerve’s is a bit of a dive, not suited to his refined tastes in the slightest. In a booth, Getaway and Atomizer have boxed Mainframe in on either side to have a little chat. Swerve and Bluestreak talk television, Bluestreak making a little jab at MTMTE’s second season not being quite as well-received by fans as the first. Over at the bar, Highbrow and Perceptor talk about Quark, while Brainstorm watches while having his briefcase, which he is NOT supposed to have in here.
Crosscut goes on about this bar being where all things happen and where bittersweet is the most often-felt emotion, then calls Trailcutter/blazer an alcoholic as he dances on the ceiling. The specters of just about everyone on the ship watch their fallen friend, enjoying the moment and missing him terribly, as Perceptor brings them back to the here and now of the story, which turns out to be just after the holiday special, judging by the Christmas lights.
Minimus asks if this is safe, and Perceptor says that it is, as nobody can actually interact with the past, because Brainstorm is the only one who’s ever actually perfected that tech, not that this isn’t his fault either. It turns out that when you try to fly against the stream of time as it naturally occurs, you tear a few thousand itty bitty holes on the way to perfecting the process. Perceptor’s found a way to let others view the past, at least for a little while. Minimus is fine with it, as long as everyone continues to behave, and it seems like they are, as everyone mingles in Swerve’s.
The two of them sit down, Megatron handing Minimus what I’m sure is a mocktail, and Perceptor explains that while the window into the past is closing for now, it may open back up in the future. When Rodimus asks when that might be, he then immediately decides that he doesn’t want to know, instead wanting to have a fun little surprise for later. They don’t get very many of those, fun surprises.
As everyone toasts to the dead and to future adventures, the specter of Getaway watches on, smug as hell.
That’s the end of “No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases” but that is STILL not the end of the issue! It never ends, this thing! Because the number 50 is very big and impressive, obviously this is a double-sized spectacular, and has to cap off with a note from the man himself— James Roberts.
And then after that we get a new notes from fans, but this is already obscenely long and I think I can show you the crux of what they’re all saying right here: MTMTE (2012) is fucking good. It’s a good series. Make your goddamn family, friends, coworkers, librarians, and goldfish read it. Share it with people you’ve never met. Get a long-term personal project out of it. Get long-term friends out of it. Get a long-term romantic partner out of it. If I can do it, so can you!
#transformers#MTMTE#issue 50#maccadam#hannzreads#text post#long post#comic script writing#overthinking about robots#incoming analysis
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Naur because the choking scene in the movies terrified me as a kid because of how violent it was and going back to what you said about their book heights……. the real fear katniss having ab peeta maybe not being someone she can trust for the reason that he was bigger than her :( so sad so tragic I love this series so much
katniss pretty much spends half of the first book and some part of the games constantly assessing how peeta can kill her and the main two things she focuses on are his physicality and his people skills. in the books, katniss is described as quite small at several points (obviously because she’s malnourished) whereas peeta is usually described as broad, stocky, very strong. he’s someone she’s physically intimidated by, and it isn’t until he saves her from cato that she starts to see him as someone she can actually trust. honestly, i think katniss’s paranoia is something we could’ve seen more of in the movies. she’s quite literally suspicious of everyone that isn’t prim or gale (or peeta during and after the games), and while i love jen and josh’s portrayal as katniss and peeta, her fear of him kind of gets lost because she seemingly has no reason to be. he’s much nicer and of an equivalent size to her. peeta in the books is much sassier and witty, and there are points where her suspicions of him seem valid because of how dubious his motivations can appear. he’s still very personable with her but he’s not afraid to snap back at her either. add that with his physicality compared to hers and her distrust of him appears reasonable.
#it wasn’t until my reread that i remembered that the ‘i don’t want to be a piece in their games’ convo was an argument#and i do love sassy peeta#in love with her or not peeta mellark was Not afraid to tell katniss to get over herself when someone needed to#and i feel like half of everyone’s perception of how Wonderful Amazing Perfect peeta is is rooted in katniss’s idolization of him#she talks about him like he’s the second coming of jesus christ#even though there are moments where peeta shows how violent his temper can be and how mean he is when pushed too far#he legit kills one of the strongest victors in cf in a fit of rage#peeta has so many of those amazing qualities but he’s not perfect#and katniss frequently treats him like he is#and it’s a quality she both resents and worships#asks#everlark#peeta#katniss
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just got so happy finally the manhwa im reading GAVE THE MAIN GIRL A BREAK this bitch just suffers it’s not even funny. i love her though. she’s my baby girl even if her entire life has been a nightmare …patting her softly on the head
#she’s literally perfect and i’m sooo glad they made her actually likeable unlike most romance manhwa girls#shesss my everything#she needs to get a new man though like i get why she liked him BEFORE but he’s tried to kill like every other chapter#and he Will Again the man is loosing it he spends all his povs hallucinating and suicidal#and honestly he has his reasons and with the information he has it is um. somewhat logical but jesus christ bro keep it together#everyone read this NOW#actually don’t#it’s so dark 💀#like worse than the ones webtoon publishes with the princes and the time travel tbh#because this girl got no one and she has no idea what’s going on 😭😭 home girl fr wants the sweet embrace of death#she’s spent the last twenty chapters slowly dying of poison she drank so the guy (she loves who hates her because her adoptive father#killed his entire family and the girl he loved Which is Also her but he doesn’t know that#because literally why would it’s been a decade and a half and her entire village was massacred#so like#it’s okay man i get it
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Alright...hear me out. Ghost with a fem!reader that wakes him up with a blow job, and he later returns the favor by waking her up by either eating her out or very gently fucking her awake. I am a FERAL for consenting somno.
this, THIS is what i needed to write about😌
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader
word count: 908
warning: smut (minors—DNI), consensual somnophilia (m! and f!receiving), oral (m!receiving, mentions of f!receiving), slight dirty talk? (basically just simon having a way with words), not proofread
note: pt. 2 can be found here ⤳ link
you wouldn’t even know how this whole thing started with simon. you would both probably be a bit tipsy, trying to celebrate his most recent mission with a few sips (an entire bottle) of wine at home.
you would be sitting in simon’s lap, thighs hooked on either side of his hips and leaning back against the hands he was running along your spine. you weren’t even sure you heard him right at first, which made your eyebrows furrow a bit as you met his gaze.
“you want me to what?”
simon rarely got sheepish or embarrassed, but when it came to sex, he was typically a bit more reserved.
“c’mon…don’t make me say it again, sweetheart. that’s fuckin’ cruel to do to a man.” he joked quietly, the touch of his hands on your back becoming a bit firmer as he pulled you closer. “just wanted to give you somethin’ to think about, lovie. i think it’d be bloody sexy to wake up with my cock halfway down your throat."
simon never mentioned it again. but you remembered, letting the idea hang in the back of your mind for weeks. the more you thought about it, the more it excited you. so when you woke up early one morning with simon still fast asleep next you, you knew that it was the perfect time.
you slowly slipped down the bed, nestling yourself under the blankets and between simon's slightly opened thighs. you gently tugged down the hem of his briefs until you could fish his semi-hard cock from its confines, unable to hold back the soft hum that fell from your lips as you felt its heaviness in your palm.
it didn’t even matter that the blanket over your head concealed simon’s peaceful face—all you could focus on was licking a long stripe along the underside of his cock, tongue flicking against the soft pink tip and fingers squeezing along the base. the heady taste of simon bled out on your tongue, making your eyes slowly flutter closed as you closed your lips around him and gave him a gentle suck.
simon’s legs twitched at the sudden stimulation, his brain slow to catch up and stir out of his tired stupor. “mmm…what’re you—oh christ.” his hand found the back of your head beneath the blanket, his other making quick work to push the fabric away from your face and letting his eyes feast on the sight in front of him. “jesus, sweetheart. m’not—fuck, not gonna last long with your throat squeezin’ me like that.”
simon was still half-asleep, his movements slow and sluggish as he shifted further up on the pillows to get a better look at you sucking him off. one hand remained on the back of your head, not as a guide but simply to touch you, the other resting along your opened jaw and fingers brushing at the corner of your stretched lips. he was right—he didn’t last long. it took only a few more languid dips of simon’s cock into the back of your throat before he spilled his cum into your eager mouth with a soft hiss and whimper of your name.
what you didn’t expect to happen after that morning was for simon to return the favor.
you had fallen asleep on the couch one afternoon, legs splayed open and head nestled against the armrest as you slept. it was a blazing afternoon, one so hot that you were only wearing a pair of silk shorts and a tank top—all of which exposed too much and not enough all at once.
simon was walking through the door, arms loaded with his bag of gear and dirty laundry he’d collected while away at base. his eyes caught on your figure immediately, and it took everything in him not to drop the items in his grip. you looked so peaceful as you slept, but simon couldn’t care less about that.
once he had placed this things into a neat pile by the door, simon made his way over to the living room and sunk down on his knees in front of your sleeping form. he didn’t even bother pulling your shorts off of your hips, afraid the movement would stir you from sleep too quickly—so he settled for pressing heated kisses directly along your clothed core, a soft groan leaking from his lips as one arm curled around the thigh propped up against the back of the couch and tugged you closer to his waiting mouth.
a smirk flitted on simon’s lips as your sleeping body reacted perfectly to him, your legs falling open a bit more as you shifted your hips up in your sleep. he continued pressing those kisses along your covered slit until a breathy whine fell from your mouth. he peeked one eye up to notice your tired eyes fluttering open, a soft ‘what’re you doing, si?’ falling from you in a panted breath.
“remember last week? woke up cummin’ down that pretty little throat of yours.” simon mumbled into the heated skin of your thigh as he sunk his teeth into your flesh, pulling away with a lewd pop. his hand dragged up your body, palm pushing against your balmy skin from the top of your cunt until his fingers were splayed on your sternum. “just returnin’ the favor, sweetheart. relax f’me, baby—yeah, that’s it. go back to sleep and let my tongue do all the work, m’kay?”
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley headcanon#simon ghost riley imagine#ghost headcanons#ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#cod smut#call of duty smut#ghost mw2#iNs requests ⭒#iNs anons: ✧w✧#iNs over 1k ❂
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♡miguel x reader x peter♡
a part 2 to this drabble
word count: around 3,1k
WARNINGS : NSFW 18+ ONLY, NO use of y/n, f!reader, voyeurism, cheating (peter on mj), HINTS on miguel x peter but nothing actually happens, blowjob (m receiving), masturbation, making out, swearing, spitting?(not really, YOU'LL SEE OK), miguel loves humiliating peter, miguel gets jealous and territorial very easily, lazy writing, also my first time writing anything close to a threesome so please be kind
a/n: SO SORRY this took so fucking long but I hope that y'all will still enjoy reading it<3
English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.
“Fuck, shit, fuck” Peter struggles to pull his pants back up as he turns around swiftly, a hand securely holding on to the front of his sweats as he gulps nervously “Miguel, my man! Fancy seeing you here… look, it’s not what it-”
“Cut the shit, Peter.” Miguel says with crossed arms, “At least have the balls to face the consequences of your… perversions.” he would have looked intimidating if it weren’t for his disheveled look–hair messy, chest rising and falling rapidly (who's he kidding, peter was still scared shitless).
“Wh-huh? I- no, you got it wrong-haha! That’s funny, though! Look- I’m just gonna go-”
“You’re gonna stay where you are.”
“Yup, staying right here.” Peter purses his lips, and he really hopes the outline of his bulge isn't that visible. (it was)
Miguel rolls his eyes, turning around and caressing your cheek as he whispers something against your ear. Peter tries to crane his neck to catch a clearer picture of you despite himself, but with that hunk of a man in front of you, it was a lost call.
You were nervous. Understandably so. Miguel’s words, when you were too busy cumming around his cock merely minutes ago, echoed in your head.
“Yeah, baby?S good, right? So perfect for me baby, fuck. Seems like you got what you wanted after all.” you had furrowed your eyebrows, confused, barely able to keep your eyes open, but when Miguel pointed his thumb at a nearby monitor with the camera surveillance of the place shining bright, with a figure right in the middle, you'd understood what he meant. And you'd liked it.
You cock your head to the side now, as you come to stand next to Miguel, grinning bashfully at Peter, who was looking at you with a gaping mouth. You’d laugh at the way he failed to cover his bulge with his hand, but you were too nervous to do so, so you decided to ignore the act altogether, even if it made your insides flip, “Hi, Peter.”
Jesus Christ, your voice. “Yellow-he-Hi!” Peter’s mouth was so dry, he doesn’t know how he managed to reply. Was after-sex-glow a thing? Because, fuck, you were glowing. There was this flush covering your cheeks and Peter thinks he wants to kiss you all over. Without even realizing it, his feet begin taking him over to you two. But not even a step in, and he’s very rudely interrupted.
“What are you doing?” Miguel’s tone is calm, and yet gives Peter an eerie sensation at the back of his neck that makes him swallow nervously, stopping in his tracks. “Uh- well, I just thought-”
“You thought wrong.” Miguel says blankly.
Peter flushes, seemingly understanding what Miguel planned to do, and takes multiple steps back till his back hits the wall behind him. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. “I- I don’t-”
“What? You didn’t actually think I was going to let you come anywhere near her?” Miguel’s laugh is cruel, and tears well in Peter’s eyes at the underlying humiliation.
“Don’t be mean,” you mutter against Miguel’s ear, your hands circling around his waist as you hug him, your eyes never leaving Peter’s. Yeah, Peter thought, don’t be mean, bitch.
Miguel softens under your touch, draping his arm over your shoulder to bring you impossibly closer, suddenly very aware of his own still very hard cock. He starts pressing kisses along your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw, and you smile as you nuzzle against him. “Oh baby, you’re still hard, aren’t you? How selfish of me,” you didn’t sound sorry at all. But neither Miguel nor Peter cared.
Oh yeah, Peter was still very much here. Cock throbbing and all.
“Stop teasing, bebita,” Miguel hisses, his eyes fluttering as he ruts his hips against you, the smallest of whimpers escaping his lips. Peter would have laughed if Miguel’s voice didn’t make the sound hot. Another fact about Miguel that pissed him off, because when Peter whimpers, it sounds pathetic.
Peter drops his hand over his bulge, groaning under his breath when he squeezes himself over his pants, finally getting some much needed friction.
To Peter’s utter horror, that was the moment that Miguel remembered that he was still in the room, and Peter froze when Miguel’s eyes met his, goosebumps rising all over his body when Miguel’s gaze dropped to his covered cock. Fuck. “Touch yourself for all I care, but know that this is the first and last time I’m letting you in on this. The next time I catch you creeping on her, I’ll kill you.” Well, that was not at all what Peter expected. How horrible, and assertive. Not at all arousing.
Peter cleared his throat, “Kill me. Yeah. Yup. No, yeah, I got it.”
You laugh softly, your own hand dropping to palm Miguel over his suit, “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,”
Miguel tries hard to hide the slight tremble in his voice at the slight contact you gave him, “Is that so?”. He dropped his head, breath fanning across your neck, “Wanna test that theory?”. Both men smile when your breath hitches, Peter staring hard, and finally pulling his cock out. He inhales sharply when he wraps his hand around himself, so desperately wanting to close his eyes and fuck his fist till he comes, but keeps them open so as not to miss the show you so generously were putting in front of him. His eyes follow Miguel’s movements, as he bends to lick across your neck, biting down on your skin a second later, both men letting out sounds of appreciation as you moan.
Peter jerks his cock at a slow pace, eyes hooded, matching the tempo at which the tension builds up. He feels sick doing this, but he can’t help but let the pleasure take his mind off of the guilt that’s ready to eat him up, choosing to focus on how your throat bobs as you swallow, your lips forming a pretty 'o' as you lace your fingers through Miguel’s hair, mewling when he grazes his teeth over your collarbones.
Miguel presses the softest of kisses on the spot he’d previously bitten, and says, “On your knees, baby.” Peter is lightheaded by the pure sex dripping from Miguel’s voice, his cock twitching under his palm, and he squeezes his hand around the base of it, slowly bringing it up to circle around his tip, openly panting like a bitch in heat.
Seeing you drop to your knees was a sight Peter never thought he’d ever see, but one that he was very thankful for. From this angle, you gave Peter the perfect view of your profile. You were grinning, your expression a bit hazy, a bit cockdrunk. The tank top you were wearing looked crinkled, and Peter wondered if Miguel had the material bunched up over your tits while he was fucking you.
Peter stares as you grab at Miguel’s thighs over his suit, squeezing the flesh appreciatively as you look up at him expectedly. God, you were begging to get fucked again. Wait- over his suit? Miguel was still wearing his suit, how the fuck-
As if Peter was voicing his thoughts out loud, the material of Miguel’s suit disappeared slowly, his cock springing up, balls dropping the slightest bit from the secure hold they were being kept up by the tightness of the suit. The start of his thighs and his belly were also exposed, pretty bronze skin a perfect contrast to the deep blue color of his suit.
“What the fuck was that?!” Peter can't help but let out, and Miguel throws him a proud smirk, “Nanotech,” You smile at the small nerdy exchange, too preoccupied to properly join in the conversation. Miguel’s pleasure was above everything else. You wrap your hand around his thick cock, moaning softly as you trace the veins on the side, bending down to kiss and suck on his fat balls. “Makes things easier-ah fuuuck,” Miguel bites on his lower lip roughly, brows furrowing as he bucks into your hand, hand caressing the side of your jaw gently. You looked so fucking beautiful.
Peter drops his other hand to fondle his balls, suddenly jealous, and throws his head back against the wall, groaning as he still keeps his eyes open to watch you.
Five minutes later, Peter was still copying your movements. When you licked at Miguel’s tip, dragging your tongue over the head, and lapping up the precum greedily, Peter made sure he only touched his tip as well, circling and rolling his hand over the head. When you licked the sides of Miguel’s cock, your hand following the same pattern just under your tongue, Peter was jerking his cock in perfect synchronization, mimicking your technique entirely. He could practically taste the pleasure Miguel was getting.
During all this, Peter couldn’t hold back his voice. He moaned and groaned shamelessly, raising his hips to meet his hand sloppily. Fuck, he was so close to coming.
Miguel was truly no better, he was just better at masking it. He constantly gritted his teeth, hissing at your antics, but the occasional moan would slip, and it always made your pussy throb, as if you could feel it vibrating against you.
You take Miguel’s cock in your mouth with no warning, the tip touching your throat as you swallow around him, nose touching the base of his cock, your eyes tearing up quickly. Both men sputter at the sudden action. Miguel moans loudly, his belly flexing as he bends over you, fingers threading between your hair.
Peter almost comes right then and there, the movement of his hand on his cock so fast and rough, that it was creating a lewd wet sound “S-shit, you look so good, sweet thingmff fuuck. Yeah-like that, Oh my God,”
Both yours and Miguel’s heads snap up, surprised by Peter’s outburst. Miguel raises an eyebrow, his jaw locking. Was this asshole really imagining he was in his place? Well, he couldn’t exactly blame him, but it still pissed him off. When he turned his head to look at you, though, you were looking at Peter curiously and- were you biting your lip?
“Something you wanna say to him, baby?” Miguel’s voice comes out dry, and you can instantly tell he’s mad. You send him a knowing smile, shaking your head softly, “Not really. I just think he sounds sweet.”
“Yeah?” Peter whimpers in reply immediately. I sound sweet, I sound sweet, I sound sweet.
You glance at Peter again, rubbing your thighs together, and Miguel scowls at the movement and tugs at your hair hard, “Keep talking, Peter. Somehow, she seems to be liking your whining.”
“S so good, you’re so good, fuck I wanna feel your mouth on me so bad,” Peter babbles mindlessly and you can't help but watch as he thrusts into his hand needily.
Miguel notices you staring and grinds his teeth together, “What are you looking at him for, huh? Looking at his cock when mine is right in front of you. Am I not enough for you, bebita?” Your head whips around to look at the man in front of you, your eyes widening a fraction as you shake your head softly.
You make sure to put on a show as you run your lips all over Miguel’s cock, spreading his pre-cum all over your mouth and chin as you talk, “You’re everything. Your cock ‘s so pretty, the prettiest ever. Love it s’much..”. Miguel feels satisfaction spread in his veins, making him warm all over. He slaps his cock over your cheek for good measure as he stands taller and huffs out a condescending laugh, glancing at Peter with a dumb smirk on his face. That’ll teach him.
But what Miguel sees is not at all what he expected.
Peter’s eyes roll back, the hand on his cock tightening as he moans. Fuck, he wants nothing more than to be at Miguel’s place right now that it’s driving him insane. “Such a good fucking girl, baby, shit.”
Miguel snarls at his reaction before snapping his head back to you, “Open your mouth,”
You do as you’re told, tongue out as you stare up at him with doe eyes, but he just clicks his tongue, “Wider.” Miguel shoves his hand in your mouth, his thumb on your tongue as the rest of his fingers cradle your jaw. He pumps his cock with his other hand, biting his lip, and mutters “Yeah, just like that.. You gonna be good for me?” You nod, and Miguel's thumb gets coated in your saliva from the movement.
Miguel grins and takes his thumb out, slowly turning his head to lock eyes with Peter. Then, he brings his hand up to his face and closes his mouth around his thumb, hollowing his cheeks prettily as he sucks your spit off his finger, his gaze dropping to Peter's cock.
Peter's jaw slacks, and his hips stutter at the sight in front of him. Miguel's low chuckle falls on deaf ears, Peter being too busy watching your hands squeeze Miguel's ass impatiently, trying to coax him back in your mouth, mewling when he relents and slips his cock inside. Miguel can't help but raise his hips as you bob your head up and down his length.
Peter spits on his cock suddenly, the filthy sound making you glance at him again, and Miguel's jaw ticks “It’s okay, bebita, you can look at him. Look, but know that he could never fuck you like I did. Or did you forget how you creamed around my cock, hm? I bet that pussy’s still wet for me,”
Peter moans approvingly, “Mm I bet it is..”
Miguel inhales sharply, his eyes falling shut, “Peter.”
“Yeahuh? Fuck. Yeah?”
“Get your ass over here.” Peter nearly falls on his face as he stumbles forward, raising his sweatpants carelessly as he walks over. His hands tremble when he clasps them together in front of him lamely, standing awkwardly near you both.
“Closer, pendejo.” Peter gawks at Miguel's request, shakes his head, and reluctantly takes two steps closer. He made sure to throw a glance towards Miguel to ensure that he wasn’t getting punched anytime soon.
“Hold her hair back.”
Peter must have died and went to heaven. There was no fucking way this was happening-
“Did you hear what I fucking said-"
Peter jumps when Miguel raises his voice and quickly springs into action. His breath hitches, but he can't help himself- not when he's carefully pulling your hair back, his fingers brushing your cheeks, avoiding touching Miguel's hands as he's still holding your head, practically using your mouth as a fleshlight.
Peter tries not to react when you gargle around Miguel's cock, the popping sound your mouth makes when you pull back to get some air pulling a hiss out of him. You cough messily, and as you do, you turn to look at Peter, in all your tears-running-down-your-cheeks glory. And then you grin at him, and Peter's legs buckle. And despite everything, despite the drool running down your chin, and Miguel's hard cock still in his field of view- Peter says, “Rough day, huh,"
You snort out a laugh, and Miguel's eyes almost roll to the back of his head because- how the fuck is that funny?- and so, he growls, tapping your lips twice with his cock before shoving it back inside your mouth, his head dropping as he moans lowly.
“Oh, fuck.” Miguel’s head was fuzzy, hypnotized by the way you bobbed your head up and down his cock, your hands fondling his balls with juust the right amount of pressure that made his thighs shake. He touches your jaw with his pointer finger, thumb drawing circles over your cheek in awe. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum.”
Peter whimpers, “fuck…” and Miguel laughs breathlessly, tongue running over his fangs, “Are you gonna fuck your fist again when you think back to this? Back when she had her pretty lips wrapped around my cock and you watched her take it.. Jesus Christ, you look pathetic. I bet if she told you to hump the fucking floor, you would.”
Peter moans and nods absentmindedly, pulling his cock out hurriedly and starting to jerk his cock sloppily, gaze glued on your fluttering eyes, mascara running down your cheeks prettily. His eyes flicker from your face to your cleavage and he whines. Your tits just look so soft, he can't help himself.
Miguel, ever the perceptive man, notices this, “Be a good girl and pull your shirt up for Peter, baby.” You moan around his cock at the way his voice trembles, and raise your shirt over your boobs, suddenly very aware of your own underwear sticking to your pussy mesilly. Fuck, you were drenched.
“Oh my God,” Peter pants, eyes losing focus, hand on your hair loosening as he moves his hips back and forth, fucking into his hand relentlessly. “I'm gonna cum, gonna cum-”
“Cum on her tits.”
Peter sobs, stepping closer to jerk his cock just over your tits and he jumps when he feels you squeeze his thigh, nails digging into the skin. He feels his balls tighten, and he grasps your shoulder as his knees buckle suddenly. “I'm cumming- Oh fuck I'm-” his cock twitches as he cums, painting your pretty tits white, the jerks of his hand never stopping as he rides out his orgasm.
For a moment, it feels as though only Peter's moans and whimpers can be heard, and fuck, he hopes there's no one outside because he's so fucking loud, and it's so humiliating that he can feel tears running down his cheeks. He feels lightheaded and utterly spent as he pumps his cock, squeezing his hand tight around himself as he watches the last of his cum drip down his length and onto your shirt, turning it a darker shade.
“Oh- fuck. Oh my fucking God.” Peter bites back a whimper and shudders, when you bring your hands to your tits, squeezing them roughly and getting his cum aaall over them.
The ringing in Peter's ears fades away, and he snaps his eyes to Miguel when he hears the state he's in.
Miguel grunts each time he snaps his cock back in your mouth, reveling in your gurgles, feeling the vibration of your moans go straight to his balls, and he. can't. stop. Not when he'd just seen Peter cum all over your tits like that. Not when he'd liked watching him do it.
“Take it. Fuck- take my fuckin' cum baby-shit,” Miguel whimpers and snarls as he snaps his hips one final time, holding your head in place, his thighs shaking as he cums down your throat. He throws his head back when he feels you swallow around his length, muttering incoherently to himself in Spanish as he whimpers and groans.
Miguel stumbles back slightly, cock slipping from your mouth at last, and both men can't help but stare hungrily, their cocks hardening once more as you gather the excess cum that's dripping down your chin in your hands, licking it out of your palms a second later. All three of you are panting hard, letting your actions linger in the air for a moment.
But then you look up at them, a sinful glint in your eyes, and Miguel turns to Peter and says,
“What are you waiting for? Lick her tits clean.”
2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
#•ूᡣ𐭩 — miguel#•ूᡣ𐭩 — peter b#miguel o'hara x reader smut#miguel o'hara x reader#peter b parker x reader#peter b parker x reader smut
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Barely ten minutes into the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake, Dustin heaves a sigh like he’s the most long suffering person in the world to ever exist. Steve rolls his eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what?”
“I’m bored.”
“God, you’re such a whiner. No, you—you’re like a little kid on a road trip, like, are we there yet?”
Behind them, Max and Lucas snort in almost perfect unison.
Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Eddie’s lips twitch into the faint semblance of a smile. It’s very quick, blink and you miss it, before he turns sombre again, looking down at the forest floor. Steve can’t blame the guy; he can’t imagine that he has all that much to smile about.
“I just meant,” Dustin says, “that we could use some entertainment.” He jerks his head meaningfully at Eddie—who thankfully still has his head down so he can’t witness this tremendous lack of subtlety—and mouths, You know, a distraction.
“And I’m the entertainment guy,” Steve says flatly.
“Well, we’ve gotta keep you around for some reason,” Lucas pipes up.
Steve turns around, walks backwards so he can point warningly at him. “Thin ice, Sinclair.”
But it’s all for show, and he keeps walking backwards, pretends to trip on a tree root and narrowly avoid a pratfall. Max actually giggles at that, which is a victory in and of itself, but Eddie’s looking down at his feet.
Hmm.
“If I wanted slapstick, I would’ve called Charlie Chaplin,” Dustin says.
“He’s dead,” Max points out.
Dustin quickly draws a hand over his neck, Cut it out. Which—yeah, that’s fair. Don’t want the conversation straying into stuff that’s too close to… everything.
“So you want education instead?” Steve says. “I think I can remember how to identify, like, some trees and shit from—”
“Forget Lover’s Lake,” Dustin says, “I’m walking you straight into a retirement home.”
Steve opens his mouth, ready to play up his outrage, and then he hears a very soft chuckle from the side. Eddie.
Steve catches Dustin’s eye, winks briefly in reassurance. Nice work.
“Oh, sorry, is that not entertaining enough for you?” Steve turns so he’s front facing again, kicking a few stray twigs as he thinks. “Uh… ooh, did I tell you about the affair? At work?”
“Someone’s having an affair at Family Video?” Lucas says, sounding disgusted.
Max cackles. “The scandal! At a family establishment, no less.”
Dustin points at her. “See, this is why you should play D&D!” he says, annoyingly sing-song. “You’ve got a flair for words.”
“How about I stick my flair right up your—”
“Uh, okay,” Eddie interrupts suddenly. “I need details.”
Aha, Steve thinks, smug. Got you.
“Fire away, Munson.”
“Did someone, like, confess to you while you were ringing them up?”
Steve scoffs. “No, it was—” He cups his mouth, calls, “Hey, Rob?”
Up ahead, Robin and Nancy turn.
“What?”
“The affair shift.”
“Oh!” Robin whacks Nancy on the arm in her enthusiasm. “This is such a good one. Okay, so am I gonna be her or—?”
“No!” Steve says. “You’ve gotta be me, you can’t do her voice right.”
“Ugh, fine, fine. Wait, I need to get into character.”
Robin makes a show of ruffling her hair, and Steve doesn’t even roll his eyes, can only grin as he hears Eddie cough a much stronger laugh into his elbow.
“Nance, count us in,” Robin says.
Nancy looks a mixture of surprised and amused. It only takes a moment of hesitance before she mimes holding a slate, mouths counting down. “Action!”
And they’re off.
It’s probably so stupid, Steve thinks, to be this loud right now, but he can’t bring himself to care—not when he can hear raucous laughter from all directions: Robin captures his flustered, wide-eyed look, while he dramatically re-enacts a woman storming into the store, demanding to see her husband’s account.
And he thinks Eddie actually laughs the loudest when he gets to the reveal: that said account was full of romantic movies the married couple had never seen together.
“Not one,” Steve echoes—and not to brag, but with this delivery? Juilliard, eat your heart out. “Not. One!”
The kids dissolve into more giggles; Robin fights to stay in character as Nancy jokingly calls, “And, scene!”
And Eddie throws back his head, and laughs and laughs.
Happiness is a good look on him, Steve thinks.
They all quieten eventually, but a lightness in mood still remains, as the kids huddle off together—“Hey, shitheads, not too far!” Steve says, far from the first time—and Eddie sidles up, fleetingly knocks their shoulders together.
“Steve Harrington. Who would’ve thought it, huh?”
“Thought what?”
Steve glances over at him, suddenly struck by the fact that the sun will go down soon; and he doesn’t really need to know what Mordor is to know that he’d rather not get there. That he’d rather freeze time, so they could all just walk in the woods forever.
Eddie shrugs. “You’re a good storyteller.” His eyes are soft, like that isn’t all that he’s saying. Like he’s saying Thank you.
Steve shrugs back. “I’m a man of many talents,” he says.
Eddie chuckles, and this time his smile doesn’t fade away.
Steve allows himself a moment or two to admire the scenery, and if that means looking less at the way the sun still shines through the gaps in the branches, and more the way that it illuminates Eddie’s lingering smile, well…
Well, so what?
Right now, we’re happy, Steve finds himself thinking.
They can stay in the Shire for a little while longer.
#oh missing scenes how i love you ❤️#steddie#steddie ficlet#pre steddie#steve and the party#steve and dustin#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#let steve be silly and have fun agenda <3#steve and robin
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whats hers is mine | abby anderson
tags: eighteen+, wlw, sexual content, gf’s roommate!abby, toxic!abby, cheating (don't go cheating on your partners this is for fantasy purposes babe), abby fr is menance in this.
an. yeah! i was horny so...this literally came out of my brain so smoothly. do i hate it? yes. but am i still going to post it nd fight my brain telling me not to? yeah! happy reading my h*rny pals.
abby being your girlfriend’s roommate who you harbor a slight attraction towards. it’s nothing big, you have this under control, or at least it’s what you tell yourself. she’s hot, gorgeous, so incredibly muscular it makes you see stars. it tears you apart thinking of all the ways her strength could make you submit to her will.
make you hers.
fuck. but you have a girlfriend.
it’s a reminder you have to repeat over in your mind anytime you catch yourself being too flirty with her, but then she gives it to you right back. now, every night you dream of her milky skin, stunning blues looking right at you, and those soft lips caressing every inch of your skin, leaving marks in their path as abby stakes her claim. yet, you wake up with your girlfriend’s arm around you with your chest feeling warm at the fantasy of someone else. you have to avoid abby before you do something completely idiotic.
yet, she’s the first one to make the first move.
abby knows you’ve been avoiding her like the plague, so when she’s presented with a perfect opportunity, the conflict at hand is met with absolutely no resistance.
“abby, you’ve blocked my car in. can you move yours?” you ask through the shut door. she gives you a soft yes and when you’re two seconds from walking downstairs to meet her in the driveway.
she opens the fucking bathroom door.
water drips down sunkissed freckled skin, glistening from the shower she obviously took. her blonde hair darker than usual, falling down her back. the smirk there is vile, begging you to look further than her blue eyes.
with the way abby is looking at you, there’s no fucking way she doesn’t want it. clearly, she’s more patient than most, waiting for you to drop the eye contact.
“well?” abby lifts her left eyebrows, cocking her head to the side as she waits for you to react, crumble, cry. you’re not sure what exactly she’s looking for. the confidence radiating from her is irritating just as it is enticing.
when you shake your head silently, repeatedly too, the tall blonde takes a one step forward, the pad of her thumb places pressure on your chin, guiding your gaze where she wants. happily, you comply.
jesus fucking christ, you’d fully believe she was made just for you if someone told you.
the auburn towel is secured around hips loosely, her toned abdomen on full display, her small breasts sit beautifully, nipples hardened from the cool air. it’s not fair how fucking perfect she looks. there’s not a damn thing you want more than to wrap your lips around her pink nipples and suck.
“now, are you going to stop pretending you don’t want to fuck me, baby?” abby taunts, her voice light and airy but it shoots right to your core.
“i-i, abby, this is wrong we shouldn’t be doing this. you need to get dressed.” you try to great some distance but abby pulls you towards her as you enter the bathroom with her, left arm shutting the door as she locks it.
“mhm, you’ve been dating for what? two months? don’t be stupid baby, think with that pretty pussy of yours. know she wants me and you do too, babygirl.” abby grabs your hand placing it on her towel, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
“you can take it off if you want. do you wanna see my pussy baby?”
shit.
your fingertip plays with the fibers, before you can process what you’re doing, it’s unraveling off her strong hips exposing more of her built physique for your greedy eyes. quads are flexing as you take her in, the muscle rippling as you feast on her.
you have never been so truly and royally fucked.
meticulously, she removes each piece of clothing you’re wearing as her lips attack your own. as if she’s been planning this moment since she laid eyes on you. she bends you over the sink, your pretty ass in the air for her and her fingers smooth over your delectable cunt, enjoying the inconsistent twitching your taut body provides.
“now, be a good girl for me and let me fuck my baby, yeah? ‘m gonna fuck you better than she ever would.”
reblogs are appreciated! ♡
DO NOT BUY TLOU, FUCK NEIL DRUCKMANN + EDUCATE YOURSELF + DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE + DONATE TO PALESTINE.
#what the fuck#took me longer to set up this post than to write it ...#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x masc reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x you#abby tlou#tlou x reader
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You getting on alpha Jungwon nerves, making him trigger his rut and bend you over every surface of your house
broooooo😮💨😮💨😮💨 I can imagine just being a complete brat and annoying the absolute shit outta won to his breaking point 😵💫
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push my buttons: yang jungwon
pairing: jungwon x afab!reader
word count: 2.2k
Acting like a brat to your boyfriend to purposely annoy him wasn’t anything new to your relationship.
Pushing his buttons was in your nature and your favorite pastime. Seeing the way he would scrunch his nose and furrow his brows at you got you going every single time, only furthering your need to piss him off to see that annoyed look turn into a stern one. Jaw locked and fists clenching at his sides as he eyes you with a look of warning. You knew what your punishments would be if you kept pushing him anymore, but your brat behavior would always continue until his hands were on your body and you were bent over whatever surface was near you at that moment as he pounded into your cunt, “Going to fuck that pretty little brat behavior outta ya baby girl.”
And tonight wasn’t any different than normal. Except for the fact Jungwon already came home pissed off to all hell, yelling into his phone on call with one of his best friends about the bullshit that happened at work earlier.
It was the perfect time to press his buttons. You were feeling needy all day and wanted to get railed as soon as he got home and with the fact Jungwon was already mad, it would make your job easier.
Jungwon stood in the kitchen, slamming the cabinet doors closed, aggressively opening the fridge to grab a water bottle and then kicking it closed, chuckling over whatever it was his friend said over the phone before sitting down at the table and opening the bottle, tossing the cap into the trash can.
You pressed your body against the wall by the table, folding your hands behind you as you stared down at him, waiting for your moment to strike.
Jungwon took a few sips of the water, glancing up to finally notice you against the wall, his face brows furrowing and shaking his head and muting himself on the call, “I see those gears turning YN, don’t you fucking dare.”
You held your hands up in defense, trying to plead your innocence. But Jungwon wasn’t stupid, he’s been dating you for years. He knows your games and how you play them. He loves you dearly, but today WASN’T a day to fuck with him.
Did you care? Absolutely not. You did respect his warning for the time being while he was on the call, but once he removed the phone from his ear and ended the call you slipped into the chair beside him, pulling it as close as you could to him, getting all in his personal space.
Jungwon ignored you at first, dropping his head into his hands and rolling his eyes, clenching his jaw to keep from snapping.
You poked his cheek, pulled at his ear, tugged on his shirt, and even blew on his face yet got no reaction. Meaning you just had to try harder.
You repeated the same actions, except now teasing him with words, “Awe, poor Wonnie, had a shitty day at work? That fucking sucks, just get over it.”
Jungwon clenched his jaw tighter, “I love her I love her I love her I love her,” he kept repeating in his head, using it as a reminder that you were just being bratty like normal. He just needed to ignore it until you gave up.
“Just stop being a baby, Won. Grow up.”
Well, now he couldn’t ignore it.
He whipped his head up so fast, yelling, “Can you just shut the fuck up, YN? Jesus Christ I am NOT in the fucking mood to deal with you right now,” he gave you one last warning look, staring you down.
But now you were pissed. Jungwon has never yelled at you like that before, yes he’s yelled when you’ve pushed his buttons too far before fucking your brains out, but it was never like this.
You matched his glare, deciding it wasn’t worth it right now, that you would just come back and try again later after whatever pissed in his lunch earlier that got him so mad was gone.
You stood, snapping out a “What the fuck ever Jungwon.”
And now Jungwon is done.
Right when your back was turned to him, he jumped from the chair, gripping the back of your neck and pulling you back, slamming your back to his chest before whipping you around and bending you over the kitchen table. The water bottle was now tipped over, the liquid spilling on the table and dripping down to the floor.
You released a gasped moan, feeling his hard length against your ass, him pressing his crotch hard onto you.
“Jungwon?” he chuckled, his voice dropping an octave, “What happened to Won? Or Wonnie or even babe?”
Hearing you call him by his full name sent him over the edge. You never call him Jungwon. And hearing that name fall from your lips was his last straw with you.
But you didn’t care, you were finally getting what you wanted. You slipped your lip between your teeth, backing your ass even harder onto his cock, rocking your hips slowly.
Jungwon held your hips tightly, forcing you to stop moving, “Ahh now that you’re getting what you want after being such a fucking brat you think I’ll just give it to you?”
You nodded, trying to move again, but he gripped you tighter, not letting you move.
“You’ll get this dick when I say you can,” he growls, looping his fingers into your shorts and dropping them down to your ankles, “Understand?”
You nod again, the cool air of the apartment tingling your throbbing heat from the pool of your slick that soaked your panties, sending chills up your back.
Jungwon squeezed your ass cheeks, pulling them apart and hissing at how your panties pressed against your pussy, your panties being so wet he could see your fuck hole perfectly clear through the white fabric.
“Does pissing me off turn you on, baby?” he slowly slides your panties down, gently tracing his nails against your skin, watching the goosebumps rise on your skin as he drops your panties with your shorts, “So fucking horny just from pressing my nerves.”
You gasp when you feel his cold fingers cup your folds, his index and ring fingers slowly spreading your lips, the pad of his middle finger slowly rubbing circles on your clit.
“Wonnie, please,” you begged, your cunt clenching around nothing, rolling your hips forward in a chance of getting his fingers to move right where you needed them the most, but he held his grip firm.
“Oh, I am back to being Wonnie?” he cooed, sliding his middle finger down to your hole, tracing the outline of it, teasing you more, “Think it’s kinda too late to be obedient, ain’t it?”
Your body tensed as his finger continued to tease you, shivering spreading across your body and knees buckling.
“Please, Wonnie,” you begged again, tears threatening to form.
“Awe,” he cooed again, “Fixing to cry? Stop being a baby, grow up,” he threw your words back at you, and oh god did it turn you on more, you cunt getting more wet, your slick now sliding down his hand.
“Fuckkkk,” Jungwon groaned, seeing how your juices pooled into his palm, his free hand unbuttoning his pants, pushing his boxers down with his pants, his hard, red, and angry cock being set free.
Using his other fingers to scoop your wet from his palm and sent it over to his cock, sliding his hand from his tip and down the shaft, “So fucking wet for me I can use your wet to cover my cock without even so much sliding into you.”
You backed your ass into him again, once again begging, “Wonnie, do something please.”
He smirked, sliding his middle finger into your soaking cunt. You moaned out with a smile on your face, finally feeling part of what you were craving.
Jungwon fingered your pussy in the same motion of him fucking into his fist, small moans and gasping leaving both your lips. Your moans grow louder when he slips another finger inside you, pumping them in and out faster.
“That's it, baby,” he gasps, “Being a good girl now that you’ve gotten what you wanted, you still don’t deserve this cock though.”
You whimpered, the craving for his cock inside you growing more and more, “Please Wonnie, need you inside. I’ll be good, I promise.”
He chuckled, pushing his fingers in faster, “No you won’t.”
You smirked, lifting your head to look at him, clenching your cunt around his fingers at his fucked out face. His pupils are blown out, his mouth gaped open as his hand pumps himself and his eyes stare back at you.
You bit your lip, keeping that eye contact with him as you now rocked your hips in sync with his fingers.
The corners of his mouth curled, “Looking at me like that still won’t get you what you want, you’ll get this cock when I say so.”
But you plead with him anyways, going back to being a brat, “Oh, come on Wonnie,” you bat your eyes at him, “You know you want to fuck this tight, wet cunt. Want to feel me wrapped around you.”
He snarled at you, fingers now curling inside you, hitting at all the right spots, “Talking like that won’t get this dick inside you faster, princess.”
You dropped your head back to the table, unable to keep it lifted as the knot in your stomach tightened, nearing the edge of your orgasm, you clenched tighter to his fingers.
Jungwon quickly slid his fingers out, denying you the pleasure of the feeling of orgasm. Jungwon was also getting closer to his climax. And if he was going to cum it was going to be in that sopping wet cunt of yours.
Before you could protest the missing of his fingers, his tip pushed into you, shutting you up real quick. Jungwon loved how fucking wet you were to allow him to slide in with such ease, his hips connecting to the fat of your ass, completely bottomed out.
Your knees buckled as he slowly pulled out and then quickly pushed back in, fucking you hard against the table. He leaned over, laying on top of you, stretching his arms out above your head, pressing his palms hard against the wood to use as leverage to fuck into you harder, to help push him further into you, wanting to break any barrier that stopped him from actually prodding into your cervix.
“Fuck, Wonnie,” you moaned, “F-feels so good.”
“Yeah?” he bites the shell of your ear hard, a yelp gasping your mouth that sends your cunt clenching around him.
He released your ear, one hand coming to your head and turning it to face him more, his lips attaching to your mouth. Tongue pushing past your lips and down your throat, moaning into your mouth and you moaning into his.
He finally pulled away to get a gasp of air, a string of spit connecting between your tongues before it broke and slapped onto each other's chins.
You clenched tighter around him at the feeling of his dick twitching, his thrust now becoming sloppy, but never wavering.
“Fuck, gonna cum soon,” he hisses, his hands now snaking underneath you, hands cupping your clothed tits as he lifts up, bringing you with him, spreading your legs further apart with his knees and fucking into you faster again, wanting to feel you cum around him as he releases inside you.
With your orgasm fast approaching, you dropped your jaw, letting out loud wet moans.
“Yeah, baby, keep those moans loud, let the neighbors hear how much of a fucking slut you are for me, for my cock.”
“Wonnieee,”
“Keep screaming my name, baby,”
You let out another moan, your climax hitting its peak, your body going limp against your boyfriend as he fucked you through the high.
He squeezed your tits tightly as he reached his own high, his hot white cum painting the walls of your cunt until it was leaking from your hole and slipping down your leg.
Jungwon kissed your neck, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.
He pulled out of you, turning you around, picking you up by your thighs, and dropping you onto the table, his fingers gripping your chin and pulling your face closer to his.
“Want to keep acting like a fucking brat? Want to keep pissing me off?” he whispered in a look of warning, his face clearly showing he was still very mad.
You smirked at him, “You’re still being a baby over whatever happened at work, dontcha think it’s actually time to get over it?”
Jungwon clicked his tongue, smiling back at you. He only fucked out half of the anger he felt, still plenty more to rage out.
He slid his fingers to the hem of your shirt, sliding it off your body and biting his lip at your now naked body as he took his shirt off and dropped it to the floor next to the rest of your clothes.
He pushed you down aggressively against the table, his cock more red and angry than before, “Guess you still haven’t fucking learned to not fuck with me when I’m pissed.”
You and him both knew you’d never learn.
#yeonzzzn asks#wonnie#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen#jungwon smut#yang jungwon#jungwon#jungwon x reader#reader x jungwon#enhypen x reader#reader x enhypen#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen smut#enhypen fanfic#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#yeonzzzn writing
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can i request one of your girls' drabble, ellie is edging u while filming 🤭
Oh god….the camgirl!Ellie saga continues….
an: if any of you would like to see more of these little drabbles from my series pls feel free to inbox me! I love writing these two so so much
Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI!!!, edging, dom!Ellie, camgirl!Ellie, live stream sex, dirty talk, usage of toys, fingering, clit slapping, nipple play, let me know if I missed anything!!
In all honesty? You don’t think you’d ever get fully used to being fucked in front of thousands of people.
Virtually, that is.
Ellie had slowly introduced you to it, allowing you to be on camera whenever you were ready, and opting out whenever you weren’t.
It wasn’t entirely different from pre-recording something and then just posting it. It was still a camera pointing at you and Ellie while you played with each other…
Apart from the constant pings that came through Ellie’s computer.
“Jesus Christ…I’ve never seen them so…active..” Ellie would breath out softly after your first time live streaming, her own disbelief clear as she scrolled through the amount of tips you two had racked up after a quick stream of her eating your pussy.
That only further proved that the crowed fucking loved you, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a rush that came with putting a show on for them.
And that’s how you eased into it, knowing how much they loved you and Ellie together. The amount of messages that Ellie had received when you came back to her page was almost overwhelming, her audience practically foaming at the mouth for more content of you two.
It’s how you ended up on you bed, your back pressed against Ellie’s chest, her hands spreading your legs and giving the camera the perfect view of your soaking wet pussy.
Her soft lips were pressed against your neck, large hands roaming over your body, playing with your nipples, your hips, your stomach, your thighs, every single part of your body receiving the pleasure of feeling her calloused hands on your soft skin…
Expect for where she knew you needed her most.
The whine you let out was pathetic, your eyebrows furrowed, swollen lips forming a pout. The camera stopped just below your nose, allowing the audience to see just how fucked out you were from the sight of your messy, maroon tinted lips.
Ellie’s chuckle rang through your ears, making your aching pussy throb as her slender fingers rolled your nipples between the pads of her digits.
“She’s so fuckin’ needy….doesn’t she get so cute when she’s like this? You guys know I could probably get her to say whatever I want as long as I let her cum…pathetic…” Ellie hummed out, a soft hiss sliding against her tongue as her hands slid down your body, settling between your legs. Both of her hands came down, spreading your pussy further, your lips making a wet, sticky sound at the gesture.
“Fuck…you can fucking hear how wet she is…all that for me baby?” She hummed softly.
Your hips thrusted up, eager to make her fingers slip and somehow settle on your throbbing clit.
Ellie had been at this for what felt like an eternity, rubbing your clit, finger fucking your poor little pussy and bringing you right to the edge, all for her to stop and leave you high and dry. Your cheeks were wet with desperate tears, lips swollen and pouty from all the biting you’d done, it didn’t help that the mirrored image of the two of you made you even hornier.
You loved seeing Ellie’s hands playing with your body.
Ellie chuckled softly, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Such a needy girl…come here baby…lemme make you feel good…”
The moan you let out was hysterical, your back arching almost painfully as her fingers went to your clit, rolling tight circles into the bundle of nerves. Her eyes never left your face, always loving the way you came undone against her no matter what she did.
“That’s it…that’s my good girl…feels good, huh? You’ve been so good for me baby…been so good for everyone watching…” she praised you.
And she was right, the amount of tips that would come in whenever Ellie would start playing with your pussy again was almost appalling, the comments all praising you for being a good girl, urging Ellie to keep going, wanting nothing more than to see you cum on camera.
But this was far too fun to end so quickly…
Her fingers stopped working against your clit, and you let out a loud whine despite the fact that you expected her to stop. Ellie always liked going long during streams like this, when you were so needy, and desperate, and fucked out that all you could do was give her whatever she wanted.
When Ellie hears the whine leave your swollen lips, her hand comes down quickly to give your clit a light spank, which makes your body jump, and makes you moan loudly. You quickly grab her wrist when she raises it again, shaking your head as you stare up at her with hazy eyes.
“D-don’t! I’ll…you’re gonna make me cum if you…fuck…do that again” you whimper out.
Ellie raises her eyebrows at this, her eyes drifting over to the camera for a minute to catch sight of the mess between your thighs. Her hand comes up, gripping your cheeks and squishing them together before she smashes her lips against yours in a messy, needy kiss, the sounds of your tongues lapping together mixing in with your moans and creating something truly erotic.
“Gonna be the death of me someday, baby…fuck…” she whispered softly against your lips, only loud enough for you to hear, too quiet for the mic she has set up to catch.
Those moments are frequent, when for a split second, the act of being two performers is dropped, and it’s Ellie, your Ellie, coming through and letting you know just how fucking obsessed with you she truly is.
Makes your heart flutter every single time.
You giggle softly, smiling against her lips as you simply give her a quiet nod as if to silently agree with her, and you can feel her smiling against your lips too.
But the sweet, syrupy moment between you two dissolves quickly, because while you’re far too deep in the feeling of Ellie’s lips on yours, you can barely register the feeling of her reaching behind her and grabbing something, and you can barely hear the sound of the vibrator she bought for you buzzing.
And you wouldn’t have realized she had it at all, if it wasn’t for her pressing the buzzing head of the toy against your drooling core, making you gasp loudly.
Ellie smirks almost proudly when she watches you turn your head from her to look down at the toy she has buzzing against your clit, against your labia and against your weeping hole, giving all of you the attention you’ve wanted all night long.
“F-fuck! H-haaa….i won’t…m’not gonna last long..” you stutter out, trying your best to close your legs, running away from the intense buzzing of the vibrating wand.
“Nuh-uh…you stay right there, and give the people what they want….come on baby…you deserve it” she demands, voice dripping with dominance as she pries your legs apart, keeping you spread open for the camera.
Your eyes are so blurry, and you can’t even hear the sounds of the tips coming in through the noise of the vibrator and your own moans.
“Fuck! Fuck I’m…you’re gonna…oh my god!!” You cry out, back arching once again, pushing your head against Ellie’s shoulder as you came hard, the sound loud and guttural, sure to leave your poor throat hoarse in the morning.
“That’s it baby…fuck yeah…so fucking pretty…that’s my pretty girl..” Ellie praises over and over again as she holds you down, keeping you against her as she helps you ride out your orgasm, stopping you from running away from the toy.
When you finally come down, she removes the toy from between your legs and tosses it somewhere on your bed. Her hands let you close your legs, and exhausted whine leaving your lips as you let her hands massage your body, hiding you away from the camera.
You were now entering a time that was reserved for only you and Ellie, you learned that it was just for you two by how quickly she ended the streams whenever you had finished.
“She’s all done for tonight you guys…we always appreciate putting on a show…” she hums out softly.
Your eyes were already so hazy, and you could feel the exhaustion from the orgasm taking over the second it had washed over you, and probably even before then. You couldn’t even say goodbye to your audience properly, because Ellie was ending the stream and closing her laptop before you could even lift a finger.
Ellie chuckled softly, pulling you down to lay with her as she grabbed your blanket and tossed it over your naked body.
“Did so good for me baby…so proud of you…” she sighed against your skin, peppering your face with kisses as she watched your eyes grow heavier and heavier.
Honestly? You couldn’t wait to get her back on the next stream.
#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou#ellie x y/n#ellie the last of us#ellie x you
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adieu, mon dieu!
“forgive me, father, for i have committed the biggest sin of all!”
pairing: afab!reader x re4r!leon
warnings: smut, virginity loss, blasphemy, dub-con, inexperienced/pure reader, religious reader, manipulation, cum eating, creampie, pussy slapping, pet names, breeding kink, slight choking, crying during sex, age gap mention (reader is 19 while leon is 27), fingering, porn with plot (?), bit of ooc leon
note: first time writing hence why it’s so long :3 also wrote this based on leon saying “i’ll give you a holy body” in re4r bc nobody freaks out over it like i do
“holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners.” the prayer is muscle memory. a smile adorns your face as you walk out of sunday mass with your family. oh how you cherish the time spent in god’s temple. you would not have it any other way. this small, quiet town in washington homes jesus freaks like yourself. where every summer, all children through teens spend their time at church camp. cross necklaces or rosaries are worn around the necks of bypassers and neighbors. you feel as though you are blessed with such a life.
so when leon appears in your life, you think you’re the most blessed girl alive. as the two of you go steady, he starts attending church with you and listens to the word of the lord with you in his black jeep. he listens to your prayers and readings of the bible. leon couldn’t be anymore perfect. “our heavenly father has blessed me with a man who loves me.” pink hues flush your cheeks as you smile giddishly during confession. “do not let temptation fool you.” the priest on the other side taunts, almost as if it’s a warning.
the people of the church disagree with the relationship you have with leon, the eight year gap between you two. more so, they dislike leon. they tell you he is not a man of the lord, he is a walking sin. they share their stories of glancing at him during mass and how he’s appearing to hold back laughter, how he doesn’t actually consume the blood and body of christ, how his eyes are filled with something evil. you choose to not believe them as they don’t know leon as you do. “he is nothing like that, sister olivia.” you defend during sunday lunch, biting your tongue. “you have found the devil in a lover.” sister olivia spews with disgust.
her words are a distraction during your date, echoing and bleeding into the grooves of your brain. “sweetheart?” leon calls as he catches your zoned out state. your eyes connect with his, you break yourself out of thought. “i’m sorry, i was just lost in thought.” you apologize, gleaming with a shy smile. the warmth of leon’s hand engulfs yours across the table, the cold silver of your ring turning hot. “i was asking if you would want to go back to my place after this?” leon repeats what you had muffled seconds ago.
“i’ll have to ask my dad first.” you embarrassingly respond as pinks heat your cheeks. there’s limited privacy with leon, daytime stays at his home with an hour max limit and once every two weeks only. your father implemented this as a way to keep a better piece of mind. “c’mon sweetheart, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” leon persuades with sugar on his tongue. the veil of orange from the candles illuminating the table is covering his face, you might just burst from the ethereal beauty he holds. he’s saying something color-coded yet it’s muffled as the tidal wave of his eyes are drowning you. “okay.” you mindlessly respond, leon faintly smirks.
the little skirt you wear is almost halfway off while you and leon makeout on his couch, something you shamelessly leave out during confessions. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders while he dangerously lingers his hands at your hips and thighs. you think you’re seeping through your panties as you feel a wet patch forming, making you feel bothered. “i feel weird.” you pant between a kiss, lungs aflame from the little oxygen you grant yourself. leon pulls away with furrowing eyebrows, “did i do something wrong?”
yet you’re struggling to understand what IS wrong. why do you feel so…wet down there? maybe you started your period but you realize it ended a week ago. leon’s eyes are burning into your skin, the gaze causing you to feel mortified. how can you tell him this? what if he thinks you’re weird? his girlfriend is wetting herself like a damn fool for no reason. “what is it?” that soft tone of his makes you feel even worse. embarrassment is starting to creep itself into the flesh of your body.
“i feel wet.” you say it so clearly and slowly as if you’re dumbing it down for yourself. you don’t know why you feel like this and you don’t know why it’s happening. leon smiles at the frustration you show, clearly not thinking of your situation weirdly. “that’s a good thing, doll.” he coos while holding your hands. head tilting and ditzy eyes searching for an answer, you are clueless by how this is a good thing. “what do you mean, leon?” “you’re turned on, that’s what i mean.” the blood pumping into your heart turns cold at the realization of what you have let yourself done. one of the deadliest sins of all: lust
how can you let yourself get carried away and almost give into something sacred? something you promised to your heavenly father that you will wait till marriage to do? you clutch the rosary wrapped around your neck, “please forgive me. i’m sorry, leon.” you think leon must be feeling the same way too, realizing you both almost gave into sin. oh how awful he must feel, to almost have betrayed the lord and gave into temptation. leon searches your face in hopes to find something you’re not sure of. “why are you apologizing?” he questions, hands no longer embracing your own.
“for getting you caught up in almost sinning.” “it’s not a bad thing to be turned on.” his voice is laced with something unfamiliar, a tone you’re not even aware of. “but it can lead to having sex and we’re not-” “there’s nothing bad about having sex either.” leon interrupts with annoyance. you can’t fathom how he thinks premature sex is not bad, he’s read the bible with you countless times. the purity ring wrapped around your finger symbolizes the commitment you vowed to and he’s reminded every time he holds your hand. “we can’t have sex, leon. you know that.”
“do you not love me?” leon is frowning at you, taking you aback with his words. “i love you, leon. of course i do.” you profusely confess as you get closer to him. the weight of your chest growing heavy while he shakes his head. “you’re supposed to have sex with the one you love right? then why don’t you? if you love me enough, then it’s not sin.” leon preaches with eyes glimmering with something indescribable. “we won’t have sex, we’ll be making love. that’s different. the lord doesn’t view it as sin.”
different strokes of blue are piercing into your soul, almost like his eyes are trapping you. your mind is foggy as you try to think of something to say. “i don’t think...” you trail off with unsure certainty, but what you want to actually say becomes lost in thought as leon’s cherry-bruised lips pull apart in a smile. you think he’s right, it’s something you probably skimmed over. cold hands caress your bare thighs, leon’s lips kiss the skin below your jaw. “you know i’m right, doll.” he mutters while his teeth lightly nip your skin, you grow hot. “i would never lie to such a pretty angel.”
“i’ll make you feel so good.” leon promises with his hands scrunching up your skirt. the sudden action causing your heart to burst within itself. your dry mouth defeats the words wanting to escape, to tell him to not touch there. you’re also battling the urge to let yourself do so as his hands grasp your inner thigh, sending a rush throughout your body. doe eyes noticing the way leon is looking at you as if you’re a sheep, tethered in his sharp teeth, bracing to become a meal.
two fingers rub you over your panties, the new feeling quickly has you inhale sharply. butterflies flutter around in your abdomen. leon hums as his fingers gather your essence that is leaking through the fabric. “there you are, pretty.” leon lays you further down on the couch. his lips kiss you again roughly and you grip at his bicep as his hands quickly discard your skirt. leon impatiently pulls away from your lips to look at the newly found view, lilac panties adorned with a baby blue ribbon. leon’s favorite color.
the wetness from earlier feels as if it’s completely soaking the fabric. you feel utterly exposed like this, so vulnerable in front of leon. “you’re so fucking sexy.” he sighs out once he finally removes the one thing keeping him away from your forbidden fruit. “please leon.” you’re unsure if you’re begging or pleading. the temperature of your body is uncomfortably hot and you’re sure it’s because your soul is already spiraling down to hell. you want to stop leon from inserting his finger into your sopping cunt, but of course you don’t.
“have you ever touched yourself, doll?” leon asks, while fingering you agonizingly slow. you crave for more, not exactly sure of what. you need more of him. you’re heaving at this point, staring into leon’s eyes as he watches you unfold before him, a flower blooming almost too late. “i’m not supposed to.” you choke out the answer while he begins to messily rub your clit. the smirk resting on leon’s lips is haunting you, why does he always look so desirable with that stupid smirk?
“says who? your god?” leon pushes a second finger into your sopping hole, an uncomfortable stretch soon followed by an indescribable pleasure. the erotic sounds of your cunt being touched for the first time reach your hot pink ears. leon curls his fingers against your spongey walls causing you to squirm. the imaginary coil in your lower stomach feels like it’s on the brink of snapping.
“yes.” you moan while he lightly slaps your cunt. “what kind of god deprives his children of a pleasure such as this? don’t you feel good, angel? i know your pussy sure does.” leon smiles at your reaction for his choice of words, you forget how blunt he tends to be. “d-don’t say that.” “your god can’t be all that great if he won’t even let me feel how your pussy squeezes around my fingers.” the blasphemy hits you like a gunshot only temporarily, the pleasure you’re receiving rids it right away.
you’re shaking your head but you don’t know if it’s from the frustration of leon speaking against the lord or if you’re about to reach sweet relief. “leon.” you hiccup, the pleasure becoming too much and your mind is turning into mush. a tight grip on leon’s bicep has him chuckling, looking down at you so pathetically. “you look so fucking stupid. go ahead and cum for me, pretty.” he grants while your cunt is squeezing so tightly around his digits.
back arching off the couch along with the most pornographic moan to ever come out of your chest, the coil snaps. waves of ecstasy crashes within your body, releasing out of your sopping hole. your thighs are shaking to snap close but leon doesn’t let it happen as he gathers your essence up with his fingers. “god, you’re just so fucking perfect.” leon grunts before sticking his own fingers in his mouth, the honey he has been craving falls onto his tongue. you feel yourself get dizzy at the sight.
leon reaches down to give you a messy kiss, tasting your cum on his tongue. “wanna fuck you.” he moans into your mouth, his jeans rub against your cunt and you’re sure your cum smeared onto the denim. you want to stop right here, you want to run straight to church and plead for your life in the confessional booth. however, when leon pulls away to strip off his pants and his fat, long cock hits his abdomen, you feel that indescribable want grow stronger.
your breathing becomes heavy as leon rubs the tip of his cock at your entrance. his cock looks too big for you, fearing he’ll split you open. the taste of bitter metallic hits your tongue and you realize you’re biting your bottom lip too hard. “i’m so lucky.” leon grunts, dragging his thumb across your bleeding lip. “get to be the first to fuck this virgin pussy.” he barely pushes the tip into your tight cunt when you start crying. the pain of slight tearing mixed with the eternal damnation you’re going to face is cutting at your skin. “please.” your vision is blurry through the tears when leon pushes his cock fully into you, you can hear him let out a deep groan.
the way leon’s cock feels inside of you makes you feel so full. the pain of being ripped open for the first time is soon subsided by a mind clouded with desire, yet you’re still crying. leon moves in and out slowly but roughly, hitting a spot within you just right. you moan wearily, salty tears trickling down into your agape mouth. when leon begins to thrust a bit more hard, you’re sobbing out loud moans. leon presses his hand against your throat, “so fucking loud.” he’s snapping his hips into you, his cock bruising the inside of your cunt so sweetly that you feel the coil about to snap again.
“need to shut that mouth of yours next time.” leon grunts, looking at you in a haze. he squeezes your throat as if to test the waters and you choke out a needy moan, your cunt almost suffocating his cock at the action. “such a nasty girl.” leon smirks while picking up the pace of the abuse on your cunt. baby pink nails are scratching at leon’s biceps. you slur out an apology, clearly not in the right headspace to realize that leon is toying with the rosary tangled in your neck. “oh my-” you cut yourself off when leon’s cock repeatedly hits against a spot so sweet, the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.
“say it.” leon taunts. his hand reaches down to messily rub at your clit once more, your eyes flutter shut. you know what he wants and you don’t think you can push yourself further into damnation by saying the lord’s name in vain. “c’mon, doll. tell your god how my cock is making you feel.” leon tightly wraps his fingers around the dainty rosary, you’re pleading at him through your eyes, mouth too occupied by the moans you let out. “leon please.” you cry out, you’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop the blasphemy or to make you cum.
leon soon loses himself in your cunt, grasping at your hips to drill his cock deeper in you. the stars in your eyes are getting brighter, you’re almost there. dirty blonde hair cover leon’s eyes, relieving yourself of the gaze he had on you. “gonna fucking breed you.” leon laps at your neck, biting at your soft skin as if it’s the bread he eats at church. “you want that? want me to fill you up?” you moan out a incoherent yes, too fucked out to understand what he’s even saying. leon captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues relentlessly clash against each other.
leon’s cock hits that sweet spot one final time before the coil within you finally snaps. “oh my god, leon!” you moan so loudly, throat becoming faintly sore. your body is shaking at the ecstasy that’s somehow stronger than before, nails clawing at leon’s back that you feel like you may draw blood. “there you go, angel.” leon’s words are drowned out by pure euphoria. you feel the warm essence escape out of your cunt but it’s soon mixed with another hot feeling, leon’s own cum. he desperately shoves his cock into you to rid himself of every last drop. you look down to where you two are connected, the lewd sight brings you back down to earth.
if anyone were to rip open your chest to view the way your heart is pounding, almost punching itself out, they’d think you murdered a man. the burden of betrayal is sitting heavy on your shoulders, all the prayers in the world couldn’t save you now. when you look at leon, who is taking in the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt, the thought begins to become a crimson haze. a string of pearl beads clutched in leon’s fist catches your eye, you look up at him. a blue hue meet yours, the once bright shade now dark. leon lets out a daunting chuckle, “won’t be needing that anymore.”
sprawled out on his palm is a broken chain along with a few pearls and a tiny cross. leon ripped off your rosary.
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#resident evil 4 smut#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x fem reader#idk how to tag this
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Always Comin’ Home to You
Gator Tillman x fem!reader
18+ MINOR DNI
dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.
cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 3.7k
a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh
...
Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life.
Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him.
Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner.
You.
You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl.
“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!”
You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him.
You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry.
Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face.
But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming.
“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record.
Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right.
He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.”
Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind.
But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction.
You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.”
His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.”
Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four.
The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing.
“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around.
“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!”
“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.”
You can see her huff, “I should call your father!”
He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger.
You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes.
Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.”
That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.”
“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak.
“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.”
You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.”
You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him.
Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.”
You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes.
“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?”
You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door.
He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?”
You tilt your head, “no station tonight?”
“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.”
You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects.
…
You were right.
You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend.
Nothing.
Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home?
He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good.
Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-
A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him.
He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose.
“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?”
He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.”
You sniffle, “is it just your face?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.”
He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.”
And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.
You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?”
You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots.
“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.”
That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain.
“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.” You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes.
His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one.
You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline.
“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.
“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say.
You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple.
“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.”
He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers.
“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him.
You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years.
“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?”
He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.”
This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster.
You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.”
He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.”
You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs.
“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest.
The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly.
“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.
He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.”
“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.”
He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.”
You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”
Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.
You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared.
Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you.
You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.”
“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in.
His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him.
You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure.
“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.”
The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further.
“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy.
He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers.
“P-please. Gator please.”
He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.”
You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.”
The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!”
He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.
“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.”
Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely.
“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely.
Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you.
“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.”
You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight.
“Daddy, please. I’m so close.”
His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both.
“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.”
Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter.
“Please! Fuck! Oh god…”
He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.
His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him.
“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you.
He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.”
It’s all you need to fall into bliss.
His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down.
His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you.
“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.”
You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?”
You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.”
He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.”
Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.
#gator tillman fargo#Gator Tillman#fargo season 5#fargo fanfic#Gator Tillman x reader#gator tillman x fem!reader#gator tillman smut#gator tillman fic#gator tillman imagine#gator tillman x y/n#joe keery#joe keery fargo
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“HEAT WEEK”
(Warnings - Aged up characters to 18, Werewolf heats, threesome, Dom Wednesday, GIP switch Enid, breeding, penetration, p n v, anal, love confessions, soft to rough sex, strapons)
The last thing you expected today was to have your door knocked on while you were studying, plus it was a Saturday, there were no classes and you didn’t really have any friends, you were more of a loner that people liked.
Getting up from your bed with a look of slight confusion on your face as you walked to the door and opened it you were more than surprised at a slightly disheveled looking Wednesday, which was shocking because Wednesday always looked perfect, but now she seemed… nervous Mabye?
“Y/N, I need to talk to you.” She spoke with the same monotonous voice she usually does, only it was hinted with a haste.
You just raised a brow, opening the door for her to come in, “Okay?” you drew out your words to try to emphasize your confusion as Wednesday walked past you without a glance before stopping in the middle of your room to speak, “Do you know what season it is?”
Her question stunted you mentally, it was so random so you just answered, “Fall?”
She just scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Yes, it’s fall but also it’s mating season for the werecreatures.”
Your eyes widened in acknowledgment before your let out a auditable, “Ohhh…” before speaking again with a sorry smile, “You struggling with Enid?”
Wednesday frowned immediately, crossing her arms in defense, “Absolutely not, I can take care of my lover perfectly fine, exceptionally actually… which is why I came here.” She nodded with a sigh before looking up at you.
You were even more confused now, “What do I have to do with your love life?”
“Y/N, are you really so dumb?” Wednesday sighed out in annoyance as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, she wasn’t good with acts of affection or confessions so she just said it how it was, “Both me and Enid want you to come to our dorm to have a threesome and possibly explore a relationship after that.”
You froze, Jesus Christ that was blunt. But that’s what Wednesday was if anything, blunt and well- honest to you at least. It came as a shock, both Enid and Wednesday did treat you well when you came across them, you just didn’t leave your room much or speak with anyone, but you didn’t know they liked you. Mabye you should have learned from the heart eyes from Enid and the gifts from Wednesday at your doorstep every Friday.
“You like me?”
Wednesday just nodded and stepped forward to gently take your hand in hers, “Yes, okay? I do, is it that hard for your thick skull to comprehend that someone could like you?”
You swallowed at the closeness and her words, blushing at how close she was now, looking up at you, her lips inches from here as she stared at your lips before leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.
You kissed her back tenderly before pulling away slightly with a blush, speaking so soft, “Thank you.”
Wednesday just smirked, “Don’t thank me yet, come on, Enid’s gonna break out of those ropes and come find us herself if I take too long.” Wednesday spoke out before pulling you out of your dorm room and practically dragging you to hers.
As soon as you got in the door the first thing you say was Enid naked on her side of her room that was decorated with adorable items and colors, she was tied with her hands up against her headboard, her chest heaving, her body sweaty, and her cock painfully hard, her hips bucking with need as she whined through a muzzle Wednesday must have put on her.
“You put a muzzle on her?” You look at Wednesday who shrugged, “She’s a biter when she’s in heat, so unless you want her teeth sinking into you, the muzzle stays on.” She spoke firmly making Enid whine pathetically from the bed, your eyes flickering to hers. As soon as you met her eyes your expression softened, “It’s okay, Enid, I’m right here.” You spoke through your mind, that was your powers, telepathy, and other things being a witch entailed.
“Take your clothes off.” Wednesday interrupted your thoughts with her order, making you jump before blushing as you nodded timidly, hesitating enough for both Enid and Wednesday to notice, surprisingly enough as you were distracted Wednesday must have untied and unmuzzled Enid because the next thing you knew gentle hands went over yours that were clinging to your shirt.
“Y/N, if you don’t wanna do this I understand.” Enid spoke so gently as she took your hands in hers with a soft smile, she was still sweating and panting with need, clearly uncomfortable, and yet all she cared was your comfort.
You shook your head, “N-No, it’s not that, I just- I don’t really like the way my body looks.” You admitted shamefully, it was your deepest secret, you struggled with a eating disorder and bad body image issues your whole life, making you either binge or starve, so sometimes you were curvier and other times you were thinner, you were kinda in the middle right now but it still made you feel self conscious.
“Y/N, your beautiful, how can you even think stuff like that!” Enid looked so shocked, even Wednesdays eyes widened from where she stood behind her. Wednesday was extremely hard to read but now that she just heard you practically say you hated yourself, it only made her love for you grow as she stepped forward, “Cara Mia, you are one of the most beautiful women I have come across and I mean that in many ways, you are genuine, authentic, you don’t care what others think of you, you are always trying your best, and your body… Cara Mia, if you hate it, I adore it.”
Your eyes watered a little bit at both of them, you thought you were just coming here to fuck, but no, their actually saying sweet things enough to make you almost cry, wiping your eyes before Enid took your hands to pull them down and kissed both of your cheeks, “Your so pretty, Y/N, will you let us show you how pretty we think you are?” She asked with a adorable little smile.
With both of their reassurance, especially Wednesday’s you felt better about about letting them both undress you, Wednesday’s gentle pull of your shirt above your head while Enid Kneeled down to take off your bottoms, sliding the fabric down your thighs while practically drooling with the need she felt for you but she knew she had to look up at Wednesday for permission, “Wednesday please, can I?” Enid pleaded.
Wednesday just rolled her eyes with a nod at Enid’s eagerness before Enid was burying her face between your thighs, making you gasp as she darted out her tongue in a long lick through your wet folds, making you shutter, but Wednesday held you up. You could only moan and thread your fingers into Enid’s hair while she worked her tongue back and forth against your clit, “Fuckkk, Enid- I-Oh my god…” You whimpered out, making Wednesday smirk, husking out as she looked down at Enid, “Yeah, good at using that tongue isn’t she? Like a mutt.”
You shuttered at the whiney moan Enid let out against your clit at a Wednesday’s degradation, watching as Wednesday pushed Enid closer to your cunt when she saw you start to shake, practically barking orders at Enid, “Don’t you dare fucking stop until she comes or you won’t be tonight at all.”
Enid whimpered at the thought of not being able to cum, her tongue definitely worked quicker, her cock throbbing painfully, leaking pre-cum all over the floor as she ate you out with vigor, making you shake before you were tensing with a loud cry at the rough feeling of Enid’s tongue dragging back and forth over your clit before she sucked, making your eyes roll back with a moan as you came, and Enid licked up every drop.
“That’s it mutt, clean up her mess, good girl.” Wednesday muttered before shoving Enid away from you, barking an order to get back on the bed as she snapped, making Enid whimper and obey immediately before Wednesday turned your head, her eyes softer as she glanced at your lips and kissed you before pulling back, “You ready for more, sweet girl?”
God… you were getting whiplash at Wednesdays mood swings, just nodding dumbly as you leant your head back on her shoulder. She guided you over to the bed, making sit back against her bare chest with her sitting behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as she kissed your shoulder and explored your skin, squeezing your breasts, stroking your hips, rubbing your stomach before sliding her hand down further to touch your clit, making you gasp from the sensitivity, but she soothed you with a kiss to the shoulder, “Shhh… Cara Mia, let me have my turn.”
You whined when you felt Wednesday’s fingers dip down to your entrance, you were wet, but most of all sensitive, moaning as she pushed a finger and then two inside you, working them at a steady pace, jerking her hand with her palm rubbing your clit, fingers curling repeatedly against that sweet spot deep inside you… gods… she played you like she played her violin, and you were singing all the right cords, your orgasm building quick until it slammed into you harder than the last, crying out as you arched and shook, Wednesday’s moan sounding out in your ear as she felt you clench around her fingers and soak them with your cum, a smirk on her face as she praised you, “Good girl…”
You were a trembling mess when she slowly pulled her fingers out, you didn’t know if you could take more, but you knew more was coming when Enid scooted up, leaning over you to kiss you deep and tender before pulling back with a soft anxious voice, “Tell us if your uncomfortable, okay?” You just nodded with a soft shaky sigh, looking down to see Enid’s cock looking painfully hard, dripping pre-cum, speaking out softly, “It’s okay, I-I want you, i-I want you both.”
The smile that grew on both of their faces made your heart melt, Enid looked at Wednesday once again for permission which she responded by nodding and kissing your shoulder, mumbling out, “Fuck her good babygirl, make her cry for us.” The tone in which Wednesday husked that out made a shiver go down your spine before you were caught off guard by Enid sliding her tip against your slit, making you jerk with a gasp before Wednesday’s pulled you back more firmly against her, “Don’t squirm, Cara Mia, just focus on the pleasure.”
You nodded before closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of Enid’s cock slowly stretching your hole, groaning out a moan of pleasure as she started to push in slowly, Enid’s sweet whiney moan sounding out as she whimpered at your heat, pumping her hips with quick breaths, biting her lip as she shuttered, “Oh God… Oh my God! Wednesday, she feels so good, oh fuck..” Enid sounded like she was about to cry, you stroked her back and that made her shiver with a growl of pleasure as she shoved in deeper, her cock filling you up, every inch stretching your tight cunt around her before she started a punishing pace.
You whimpered and whined as you held onto Wednesdays hand while Enid pounded into you, her hands on your hips to keep you pinned down as she slammed her cock into you at a ravishing pace, the stretch around her thick cock, the fullness, the feeling of her grazing against your gspot every time she thrusted, it was building you up quick, your moans getting lower and more primal along with Enid’s growls made Wednesday moan as she slipped her hand down to rub her own clit, her eyes locked on you two as Enid fucked you ruthlessly.
It was clear all three of you were getting close by the sounds of your moans, you saw Enid struggle her page getting sloppy before she pleaded out, “Wednesday, please, please can I cum in her, please!” The sound of her begging to cum in you made you groan out, the thought of feeling her seed squirt and fill inside you made you cry out and cum on the spot, which in return made Enid cry out in surprise as she thrusted in deep, cum shooting inside you faster than Enid could squeal as Wednesday moaned out shakily at the sight and sounds, all three of you finishing together, trembling, panting, whining, whimpering, or moaning…
It took a few minutes for things to calm before Wednesday spoke out in monotone, “Enid, did you just cum without my permission?” The silence was deafening, Enid’s face pressed against your breasts as you felt her tremble and whimper out, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Wednesday just scoffed before sitting up, getting up to slap Enid on the ass which made her Yelp and buck into you again, making you whine from the fullness already, you we’re already spilling cum out around Enid’s cock all over the sheets.
“Stay.” Wednesday ordered Enid as she got up, you watched her walk over to the dresser with soft moans as Enid grinded against you to continue your pleasure, Wednesday pulling out a thick strapon with a bottle of lube which only made Enid whine, “Wednesday please…”
“Shut up.” Wednesday barked as she strapped it on and walked back over slowly, settling behind Enid while she was still inside you before you noticed this whole time Enid had been wearing a buttplug, listening to Enid whimper and feeling her shiver and twitch inside you with a groan as Wednesday pulled it out of her to replace with the tip of her lubed up cock, her voice dark, “Your gonna keep fucking our precious girl while I…”
Wednesday rubbed her hand over Enid’s soft ass, slapping it harshly which made Enid Yelp louder before she cried as Wednesday shoved her cock in her ass. Enid clung to you like a lifeline, whimpering as she started to thrust so she had to meet Wednesday as she fucked into Enid, making her cry, “Wednesday…” She laughed at Enid’s crying before kissing her back and thrusting harder which made Enid lurch as you felt her cock twitch inside you as she screamed, cumming again so hard inside you, feeling her cum fill you until you were achingly full, Wednesday ramming her hips into Enid’s ass as she came before moaning herself at the sight, her voice breathless… “Fuck, we’re doing this more often.”
#wednesday 2022#wednesday addams#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams imagine#wednesday netflix#wednesday x reader#wednsday addams#enid sinclair#wednesday x enid#enid sinclair x reader
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being in a secret relationship with jj maybank.
pairings: jj maybank x fem!cameron!reader.
warnings: nsfw under the cut and inappropriate language used.
author’s note: last post for now i’m going to be busy this week and the next week so i’ll take a break from writing atm and hopefully i’ll get inspo to finish my james fic soon. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.
the forbidden relationship
• he always considered himself lucky to have you as his girlfriend—you were literally the embodiment of perfection, something that he clearly wasn’t and you were someone who is way out of his league
• but he wanted to fucking show everyone that you were his and he was yours
• unfortunately he can’t. you and he both know the risks associated with being together, which is why you persisted in keeping this relationship a secret although jj doesn't want to, he goddam knew you were worth every risk but because of the way you pleaded with him, telling him that your family wouldn't want this, he relented
• only sarah knew in your family about your relationship with jj but thankfully your sister swore not to tell anyone, especially to rafe and though jj doesn’t give a single fuck about that snobby asshole, he knew rafe was still your brother (though sometimes he had a difficult time comprehending that—you were an angel and rafe was... rafe)
in the relationship
• a literal golden retriever boyfriend
• super!!!! duper!!!! obsessed with you
• the pogues, whenever they are at john b’s shack (especially pope, bless his poor soul) has to put up with jj constantly rambling about how much he loves you
• like he never shuts up about you and the pogues were convinced that the lovesick fool was so fucking whipped that they weren't sure whether to be concerned or amused
• “like i just can’t even explain it, man, i love my girl so fucking much.” he would say with a goofy grin, head already filled with everything about you
• pope, looking exasperated, would grumble. “you literally just gave millions of reasons why you love her, we get it, jj.”
• will always give you compliments and shower you with praises
• “you’re so beautiful,” “have i ever told you today how hot you look?” “jesus christ, you’re unreal, love.”
• calls you “my girl” “babe” and “love”
• always. demands. your. attention.
• he’s literally soooooo clingy!!!!!
• and easily jealous
• “he was literally eye fucking you.”
• whenever a guy approaches you and openly flirts with you, he would scowl. sometimes, even though jj wants to approach you, punch the asshole, and drag you along with him, he can't because it would be obvious to people that there’s something going on between you two when he promised you he would keep it lowkey but it was just so hard
• you always reassure him by pecking his lips and saying that he’s the only guy you love
nsfw
• a total fucking tease
• when no one was looking, he would slyly palm your ass or place his hands inside your skirt, delicately caressing the fabric of your underwear where his finger brushes your covered pussy
• “my god, babe, you’re soaking already and i haven’t even touched you yet.”
• you can practically hear the smirk in his words
• so horny. you would literally just breathe and he would get turned on
• he would sometimes sneak into your room (which was beside rafe’s) and would fuck you there
• jj maybank is a fucking sex god. he knew exactly where to put his mouth on every part of your body, including your cunt, your lips, and your sweet spot in your neck and he also grasped how much of an impact his thrust would have once he was fully inside of you, given how you struggled to contain your whimpers and clung to him as he rocked into you
• “i wonder what your brother is going to think when he sees his precious sister drunk on my cock.”
• “as much as i love hearing your sweet moans, love, you don’t want to get caught, do you?”
• gives the best orgasms and he knows it
• aftercare!!!!!
• would pull your naked body to him, lay your head on his chest as he hug you close to him, whispering how good you were and reassuring you while pulling your hair in one shoulder as he kisses the other bare shoulder softly
• “soon we can do all this without hiding from everyone. i’ll make sure of it.”
#♡ — ani’s works.#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x you#jj maybank headcanons#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank#jj maybank fanfiction#outer banks x fem!reader#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x you#outer banks smut#outer banks headcanons#outer banks x reader#outer banks imagine#outer banks fic#outer banks
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I love how you write. It's so perfect ✨️🫶
can I request a headcanon on Thomas Hewitt?
and another character if you want
How would Thomas react if we found him cheating on us?
I need angust in my life
Sorry for the mistakes, english isn't my main language 😅
Cheater
AN: I’m so sorry but I did not answer this request the exact way you asked. I made it so the reader thinks Tommy is cheating on her but he really isn’t. I did this because my little heart couldn’t handle all the angst and I honestly don’t think Tommy is the type of person to cheat.
Warnings: Mentions of sex, nudity and rude language towards the reader from Hoyt.
"Tommy! I got a present for ya! Get your ass to your bedroom!” Hoyt yelled loud enough for the entire house to hear.
A group of unfortunate tourists visiting the state of Texas got pulled over by the self-proclaimed Sheriff Hoyt. He made them all enter his car and drove them back to the Hewitt household where they would meet their untimely demise.
Thomas immediately took them to the basement and made quick work of all of them—or at least he thought he did. While he was finishing chopping up one of the last bodies, he heard Hoyt scream for him.
Tommy put down his cleaver and went upstairs. He saw you and Luda May sitting at the dining table. He gave you a quick wave before going upstairs to his bedroom.
Tommy opened the door, and his jaw dropped. He quickly looked away and covered his eyes. There was a woman completely naked tied to his bed. She was bound to the bed in a starfish position, leaving her whole body exposed.
Hoyt laughed at Thomas’s shocked face. "What’s wrong, Tommy? Thought you might want a new toy. The girl you got now is all loose and stretched out. This one’s perfect for ya. She’s all nice and ripe. So much better than that used-up bitch you’ve been keeping around for years now."
Hoyt’s words enraged Tommy. Before you came along, family always came first. Now that your in his life, he prioritized you over everything. That’s why he quickly grabbed Hoyt by the throat and lifted his body off the ground. He balled his free hand into a fist and punched him in the face. You and Luda May heard Hoyt scream in pain. You immediately jumped out of your seat and ran upstairs.
"Tommy! Tommy, sweetie, are you okay? What’s going on—" Your heart sank. You looked at Thomas with angry eyes and stormed out of the room. He quickly dropped Hoyt’s body to the ground and ran after you. You were already outside the front of the house when he caught up.
"Leave me alone, Tommy! I don’t want to hear it!"
Thomas grabbed your shoulder and yanked you back. You let out a groan of pain. He turned you around to face him. Your eyes were watering.
"You got bored of me! Is that it? After everything we’ve fucking been through? I gave up my entire life to be with you! Were you just gonna kill me? Chop me up like all the other girls who come through this house?"
Thomas vigorously shook his head. It was times like these that he wished he could talk. His heart broke when you started sobbing.
"I love you, Tommy. Don’t you love me? You used to love me…"
You watched as the huge man dropped to his knees in front of you. He placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you with sorrowful eyes. He did love you. He would always love you and only you.
Before you could say anything else, you heard Luda May yelling from inside. "Jesus Christ, Hoyt! What’s wrong with you? Get out there and apologize! Right now! Go!"
You gave Tommy a confused look. He only nodded his head. That’s when Hoyt came outside, with Luda May following right behind him. You wiped the tears from your eyes and looked at Hoyt. Thomas was still on his knees, hugging you.
Hoyt sighed. "Tommy didn’t want that girl. I put her in his room. Figured he would want a new toy to fuck. Someone who wasn’t as stretched out as you. The dumb fool still loves you, though. He don’t want anyone else."
Luda May slapped him for his crude language. "He’s telling the truth."
You gently pushed Tommy’s hair out of his face. You ran your hand along his cheek. He was crying now too. "Oh, sweetie…" You leaned down and pressed a kiss against the top of his head. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought you were cheating on me. I should’ve known you would never do that."
Thomas stood on his feet and shook his head. He signed, "I am sorry."
You started crying again. "I love you so much, baby. Don’t be sorry."
He wrapped his hands around the back of your head and pulled you in for a passionate kiss.
Hoyt made fake gagging noises. "Go kill the girl then, Tommy! Stop being all mushy and kill her."
Thomas looked at you and nodded. He immediately ran inside to deal with the naked girl in his bed. The sounds of screams and blood splattering could be heard from a mile away. There was nothing to worry about with Tommy. He’s loyal to his first and only love, you.
#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas hewitt#leatherface#leatherface x reader#texas chainsaw massacre#the texas chainsaw massacre#tcm#slasher x reader#slashers
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To hunt or be hunted #9
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer
Summary: Happy birthday! a late one at that...
Warnings: Angst, fluff, bickering.
Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @shamblezzz
Three months passed, no one except Lucifer, Alastor and Charlie became nervous as time went by. Charlie didn't know what else to do about the contract, it protected you from killing yourself during its validity period, but after that she couldn't do anything to avoid it.
"Charlie, can I ask you a question?" She walked over to the stove, accompanying as you finished checking the meat in the pan. “If…if I happened to make it out alive, but your father were the reason for that, or Alastor, how would you feel about it?” Charlie choked on her water, to put it in a nice way.
“You’re asking me permission to go out with my dad?” she laughed, “Depending how okay are you with it” she snickered, “I mean, it would be weird” she started “We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t think I can see you as a step mom” he gave you a playful nudge on your shoulder.
“I don’t plan to play mom with you, I’ve already done it for eight years” you pointed to her bandaged finger you had fixed a few moments before.
“Do you like my dad?” what an interesting question, his advances did in fact made you look forward to spend more time with him, “I’m starting to get fond of him, I want to know if I should push the halt now before it’s too late”.
“And hurt him more than my mom already did? No” she made a pensative face, while the question brew in your stomach, “What if she comes back?” Charlie’s eyes shifted, “I won’t have her back” as a former mother that stung in sympathy for her, as little as that was, “That is what you say now, but I know you, that attitude won’t be there if she stands in front of you” sad but true, you knew her.
“Going back to my father, he’s old enough to decide who he wants to date” you let out a breathy laugh, “I wasn’t asking your permission, I wanted to know how you felt about it, I won’t have my wings broken by you again anyway” she nudged you again.
“If there’s anyone I would know my father would be happy with, you wouldn’t make the first of my list, but you´re there” you made as if there was something piercing your heart, with a stabbing motion of your hand in your chest, “Cold as fuck”.
“You wanted my opinion” she defended herself, “I didn’t say it wasn’t appreciated” you gave her a bite of a stir-fried red pepper, “Y/n, I love you, as friends or an aunt, but I will end what I started when you betrayed me if you hurt him” her horns peeked out of her head, low blow reminding you of how the battle became to be.
“Charlotte, even if he didn’t liked me, I’m ready to fight Jesus fucking Christ for you and this hotel” ‘you and him and Alastor more than anything’ you thought, “Don’t underestimate the growth I had this eight years”.
You plated a portion of the meat, stir-fried veggies and mush potatoes, “You and your dad have the same eating issue, so I’m getting up his dinner after plating for you and the rest” you said as you prepped the plates on a line, “Fun to know the only few things I have in common with my dad are issues” her sarcasm drew a smile on your face.
Her mean/sassy attitude was refreshing after a lot of her sunshine bullshit.
“Also your eyes, the way you hide your feelings from others, your cheeks, that lovely angelic happiness, the way you smile, your theatrics, the list is infinite” you winked at her, “You are his spitting image, the only thing you have from your mother is your hair, the height, and her temper” she groaned a little, “I got my singing from her”.
You hummed a no, “Ezekiel 28:12-13 say how beautiful lucifer was. God created him to be perfect in wisdom and beauty, a spectacle of flawlessness and gave him special capabilities in music and voice, the bible doesn’t lie” she looked at you in awe, “What? He’s proof of everything the darn book says” another blink.
You weren’t a believer until you saw Adam for the first time.
After bidding everyone a good night, you made your way to his room, tray in hand. Charlie warned you to be careful, she had heard some breaking sounds coming from his chambers, she was far too scared of his rage to interfere. Talking of her inner child saying be cautious to her.
"Your highness? You didn't attended dinner, so I brought it to you" you opened the door, the sight unnerved you.
There were rubber ducks that were burned, had their throats cut, were torn to pieces, or even turned to dust. The painting of his wife had claw marks on her face, there were feathers on the ground, his, and other smaller ones that didn't match his colors.
"I'm not hungry" your eyes caught sight of him, sat on the ‘your side of the bed’ facing the window. The light was not working, with the dim light of the city emanating from the window you could see his tattered hair and his wrinkled suit, also a few small drops of shiny golden blood on his arm.
"You have to eat, even if you’re not hungry, Charlie mentioned you didn’t ate much at lunch either” You didn't eat with the rest of the group, for the simple fact that due to your new anatomy you had to eat at least three dishes to be satisfied, and it made you a little embarrassed.
"Say my name" he whispered, his voice low and deeper than his usual, "Excuse me?" you pushed a few things off a table near you to set the tray down.
"It's always my lord or your highness, never my name, say it" his red stare chilled your blood, "Why is it so important?" you swallowed a huge lump to say that, "Then I'm not eating until you say it" he crossed his arms.
"You're being a child” in a matter of second he was inches away from your face, “And you secretive, since when? Have I gave you a reason to not say things to me?" his distorted voice thundered, flinching was so hard to avoid, "No" you bite your own tongue, "Then please, address me by my name" a few flames came out of his mouth.
"I don't negotiate with children throwing a tantrum" you walked around him, trying your best to shake off the sight of his angry face, printed in your mind.
"Why is it so hard to say?" He muttered, "And it's not a tantrum" you chuckled, "Sure it is" you accidentally stepped on a head of a former duck.
"You've still haven't answered, why is it so hard for you to say my name" you didn't had time to answer when his wings carried him to you again, "Do you fear me?" Your visible flinching giving his demonic form made his eyes widen, immediately shifting back to his simple self.
"You do fear me, wow, I don't... this is new" he plopped against the bed, feeling sad and heavy. "You know? After being almost skin to skin with you, I thought there was a level of trust" your pride stung, "I do trust you" you were going to say that because he is stronger than you, there was some caution in your way of being, but he then said, "But you fear me" "Maybe? Maybe I just respect you" "Oh cut the crap".
"You do that, what the hell happened here?" With a heavy sigh he pointed to an open envelope on the other corner of the room, "Lilith wrote, I thought it was to let us know if she was coming back but there were paperwork" Taking out the first sheet you read divorce agreement, the mess made sense now.
"She could've told me this herself but NO, she sends a cherub to give me the papers already signed" Poor messenger, "She has been in heaven this whole time?" His horns erupted from his head, "I KNOW, RIGHT? Of all the places she could go to" noticing how you took a step back he put in his best efforts to relax again, or as much as possible.
"I already sign them, if I seal the envelope it will be sent back to heaven to processing" You walked to sat by his side, "You want to do this?" He looked up to your face, "I can't force her if she doesn't want to be with me" He waived his left hand, the envelope then flew out your hand to seal itself and in a second it disappeared with a bright white light.
"Give me your hand" he knew which one, so he did, you slid his ring off gently, then kissed his released finger, "Think about it as a chapter of a book, now you inevitably have to pass to the next page" your free hand left the ring on your thigh and went to clean a tear going down his eye.
"Otherwise how you're supposed to know what lies ahead?" He pressed his cheek against your hand, "It hurts" his broken voice sent a needle like pain on your heart, "Mourn this love, you tried your best".
He let out a broken sob, tears streaming down his face.
He remembered how happy he felt when he proposed to her and she said yes, how elated he felt when Charlie's birth took place, and all of his wife's love was true and present. Seven years of sleeping in a bed with an empty space that no longer had his presence or her scent. After the second year he didn't even use her anymore, the memory of when she was happy hurt him a lot.
Now, the cold he felt was erased, you were there to console him. He Intertwined his fingers with yours without taking your hand from his face.
"You've still haven't answered my question, why while being so close I feel you so far away?" You thought about it for a moment, "Sorry Luci, I initially wanted to keep you at arm’s length" he took the ring off your thigh, making it go away.
"I figured, it hurt" there was a slight flash of red in his eyes, "Sorry" he shook his head, standing up "Don't sweat it ducky" breaking the somber angsty moment, you laughed, "Why the laugh?" His smile returned to his face, "Ducky is also slang from my time, means that something is very good", he chuckled at that, he had meant it as a nickname.
"Speaking of very good things, Charlie spilled the beans of forgetting somebody's birthday, it was a few months ago" he had a sing-song tone in the word somebody, "Oh fuck, tell me she's not putting up balloons" he laughed in your face as he added "And serpentines".
You groaned, falling onto the bed, "I'm in hell".
"Since we already missed it, but tomorrow there will be a celebration, and we are close to the witching hour, I wanted to give you something first" he walked to his side of the bed, taking a red box from under it, "You got me a gift?" He placed the box next near as you sat on the bed.
After taking the lid off, the little girl that lived off hurt and grief awoke from deep within you, a yellow duck plushie sat at the bottom of the box, huggable size.
"Go to bed! You lying, no way!" Your voice took a higher tone as you took the stuffed animal out of the box.
"A plushie, how did you knew?!" You hugged the animal, "You told me, that time you came back drunk" your happiness didn't go away buy you did halted for a second, "What else did I told you? I can be a huge blabbermouth" Indeed you were.
"Your contract with Charlie, and what is about to happen...to you" you took a deep breath, "Oh shit, well I really love this, thank you" what is done is done, you couldn't change the past.
"I'm glad, I thought I made it too fluffy" after he told you he made it for you, the purring started, Lucifer slid on the bed to hear you better, "Oh there's my reward" flushed you hid your face in the plushie, "It ain't that cute" in response he lightly pinched your face, "It's adorable".
"Thank you, Luci" one of his hands took yours, lightly rubbing his thumb on your skin, "Happy birthday Y/n, you don't look a day over 120" he winked, "You were off by twenty years" his bright eyes held so much pain and happiness at the same time, "You also told me to remind you of something" he pushed the plushie down, setting it aside, "Of what?".
In a blink his lips captured yours, gently making pressure as he moved, his hand went from the bed to your cheek. The surprise made you hesitate for a second, your shaky arms passed his shoulders, hugging him closer, making him smile on your lips.
It made you laugh how he took a bit of leverage on you by sitting on your thighs, straddling your hips.
"That" he teased, "Now that was familiar" your hands felt his back, admiring the position, "How much do you remember?" You remembered most things, but you liked to mess with him.
"Bits and bits" he lowered to your cheek, placing a chaste kiss, "Say my name" he whispered, "Is it a kink for you?" You gasped, his kiss landed on your neck next, "Say it" he moved again, his eyes on yours as you said it, "Lucifer".
His name rolling down your mouth made him crazy. Kissing you again, he felt like making it a little more intense, he pressed your body against the bed towering over you, his tail taking hold of your thigh.
His tongue licked the rim of your lip, asking for permission, "My tongue feels like sandpaper, like a cat" You shook your head, he smiled while snapping his fingers, then your tongue was smooth as normal, "May I now?" You nodded, his lips attaching to yours, finding a small gap to introduce his forked tongue into your mouth.
With one hand he leveled himself over you, while the other snaked his way to the back of your head, pressing you against him.
A small whine called his attention, he wanted to check on you, but when he separated a bit you brought him back, pushing yourself upwards and hugging his back with your arms. He hummed in delight, seeing that he was corresponded.
He made noises of his own, sighing when you took gentle fistfuls of his golden locks into your hands, those sent electric pulses down your core.
After a while, you stopped, pressed your forehead against his.
"You make me so confused" You whispered, "How so?" Though your hands on his shoulders, you could almost feel his heart beat, "I do feel scared, but in the middle of the day I think about coming back here, with you, and it excites me", and the thing that makes you scared is to lose the warmth again.
Giddy as he could feel, he smiled, "Well I do make a hell of a cuddle buddy". Laugh, that was all you could do. The lights on his room went on again, making the disaster look less worse than you thought.
"Now that you're single, I'm sure Angel can help you out if you would like to get out there again, the lady demons will eat you up with a smile" a direct stab to his heart, one that brushed off with a smile.
"I'm sure they would, but I'm pretty comfortable with you" there was no way he meant it, or was it? "While you look for a partner right?" He shook his head, "Stay...with me" why would he say that? Is already the second time he made that proposal.
"What if you get bored of me?" Worried, he noticed you were, "We sleep on separate beds until we miss each other" it was his turn to have his hands on your face, brushing off strands of hair, "I'm damaged" he smiled, "So am I, we have so much in common" how he could be so happy when you were so hesitant?
"I have issues and quirks and weirdness" how he could be so loving with you? He just lost his wife forever maybe, "I have depression, I'm weird and have a lot of energy, I may exhaust you one day" the sad look he gave you despite his smile torn apart something deep within you, "You could never" pressing a kiss against his temple made him hum happily, "I don't know if I'm ready for a commitment" you confessed, specially having your heart divided.
"Then, may I court you?" imagine a light, but instead of coming off his body only, it enlightened the whole room with an angelic hue, that’s how exited (nervous), he was. "We could go out, get to know each other, maybe seal the deal if I convince you" he said ever so sly, adding a bit of seduction to the mix, his charm was irresistible, "Okay, but if Charlie asks, it was your idea, I really don't want my horns pulled off again".
"You had horns?" he touched your forehead to try to find any reminiscent of horns, he was confused because he didn’t even found a scar, his eyes flashed a red hue again for a second, then he understood, he was able to see the colorful rim of your seal that kept your real self, hidden away.
He stood up and moved away, his magic aiding him to clean the mess he had done. Afterwards you ordered him to eat his dinner, the one that was kept decently warm under the silver lid. He took a few glances off the food to see you hugging the stuffed animal close to your heart.
How to explain what he was seeing? You, your eyes so lit with a joy that had been taken from you and denied for so long. You held the little animal so close to your heart, your knuckles forcibly white, as if you were afraid that at any moment someone was going to take it away from you.
He saw a girl, the girl that maybe you once were. A happy little girl with a birthday gift that she promises to always use until she wears it out, and maybe love it even if it is in tatters.
"How are you liking the plushie?" he finished eating, making his way to you, "I think he will take your place tonight" he gasped, acting offended, "What? I'm better than a plushie, I come with hugs".
"This might sound weird, because it is, but tomorrow morning, would it be possible for me to brush your hair?" Lucifer couldn’t avoid blushing, his surprise alarming you a little, "It's something I saw some people do for others, I just, okay it's stupid" he smiled, "A couples thing" you nodded, closing your eyes as you saw his face getting closer and closer, until he placed a peck on your nose, "I would love to".
You left a few minutes to eat your portion of dinner, then when you returned, Lucifer was in the middle of the room, only in his brief, short black boxers that made his ass tight.
"Oh hey, I come in the wrong time" you laughed, closing the door and facing it as fast as lighting, "You're too cute for my health" he laughed, his hoofed feet sounding closer and closer to you, "Look, nothing out of the ordinary" he turned you around, both hands on your hips, your back against the door.
Another set of scars making his sides look greyish, burned patches, by the look on your eyes he couldn’t make out if you wanted to ask about them, kill the person who did them, (not that you could really), or do the crying instead of him.
“Don't mind those” since his hands were already on your hips, he took on the opportunity to hug you, “You know? you asked me why I was bothered with things so earth bound" you bump your head against the door, "Me and my big mouth" his tail went around your leg.
"You should speak your mind more often, also, just so you know, I don’t want you to show me if you don’t want to, but I can see the spell surrounding you" ‘Again, I hate the way you see through me’ you thought, making the spell go away at will for the first time, because the other one was because of anger reasons.
"Alastor saw me like this, I couldn't tell if he was scared or disgusted" he chuckled, "For his own sake, he better not say a fucking insult your way" If he could purr he would, especially taking in your entire appearance at once. Broken brown horns, your wings dragging on the ground, the connection between your back and the bone was clearly loose and broken, you also had several spaces without fur, old brown marks that made his heart cry.
You decided to break the focus the king was on your skin, for two reasons the silence was giving you psychosis and at the rate he was going you would end up biting him, and not in a non-sexy way.
"Hey Luci, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" he took his cheek off your stomach and frowned in surprise, "Uhm yes, why?", you tried not to laugh in anticipation giving the stupidity you were about to say, "Because your beauty is angelical" but the punchline made you lose it, literally laughing your ass off while he pinched his nose trying to hold his own chuckle.
The next morning, something that came to you like second nature was waking up next to Lucifer. You usually had him hugged your waist like those little parasitic fish that hang from the skin of sharks, except that he was one of the good little fish, or rather a little duck that has a very bad awakening.
If you have seen a Polish chicken and the crazy hairstyle they have, then you can get an idea of what Luci looked like in the mornings.
You'd wake him with a few gentle caresses on his cheek, then watch him join you in the bathroom, heavy eyelids and sharp teeth showing from how much he yawned. For him, having you comb his hair was another level of intimacy that went beyond sex, due to his height his head was at the height of your breasts, he was perfectly fine using you as a pillow while you fixed the pompadour that he liked to wear every day.
He enjoying himself while you were fighting with a lock of hair as proud as him that did not want to fall in line under the hairspray.
Both already dressed, just like the demon on the radio (but don't tell him) Lucifer left his bowtie untied just for you to fix it, the occasional brush strokes of your fingers against his neck getting to puff up his feathers.
Internally you wanted to die, or run away. Charlie is very good at making up for shit she screws up, and forgetting your birthday wasn't necessarily an action that would hurt you, to be honest, since you hadn't celebrated it in a long time, simply no one, not even you, remembered it.
Even the bar had balloons and serpentines, the amount of confetti that came out of the sides of the stairs when you came down was so much that you would be spitting out pieces of colorful paper from now until the anniversary of the deal between you and her.
"Happy belated birthday" here and there, there was even cake, but Nifty had baked it so for safety's sake you didn't take a bite of it, no one in fact. Everyone swore they saw something moving inside the cake.
You and Lucifer agreed to go out that night, Alastor seeing this couldn't help but feel like something was slipping through his fingers. Almost as if he had the deer on the edge of the nose of his rifle and his trigger jammed.
"You look so beautiful, dear, ready for a second part of the celebrations?" ever so harshly he tried to get you away from Lucifer as he could, “Actually, Bambi, she and I will be going out right now” If the king's mocking smile wasn't enough of a kick in the guts for Alastor, the nickname made his blood boil.
“Isn’t it unfair to snatch the birthday girl on her day?” Him and Luci were starting to het dangerously close, “Belated day” you tried to add, “Not that you knew either” lucifer smiled, the air getting thick. “Guys?” you tried again, no reaction, “Big bad Bambi is going to stop me from treating her to a nice evening?” Lucifer bared his fangs to the deer demon, but far from make him retreat, he encouraged him so, the dials in Alastor’s eyes turning a furious shade of red.
“I could offer her something better” the king snorted in response, “Voodoo doll making and killing don’t make much of a date, you know?” the bickering went on like that until Alastor pushed a limit, “How about you go beg your wife for some sympathy instead?” now before Lucifer could utter a single word you put yourself in between them.
“Alastor, enough” he had to blink a few times to acknowledge you in the middle, “I think I have the right to spend my days however I want, do I not?” he growled a ‘Yes’, “Then we’ll have a drink in your studio once I’m back, how about it?” now it was that or making you angry enough to ignore him again, “Fine”.
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Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson Part 2
Part 1 Here!
I could kiss all of you consensually on the mouth, you were so nice about part 1 I cried several times. Here is the long awaited part 2, which I am considering turning into a full length fic on ao3 so if anyone wants to follow me there here it is! Sorry it is so short! This is mostly a stepping stone for my plan for part 3. As always, if anyone would like to be added to my permanent Steddie fic tag list or the tag list for this fic specifically, let me know below :)
~~~
As a general rule, Steve considers himself a confident person. Unfortunately, there’s something about Eddie Munson that reduces him to a nervous, sweaty wreck with decidedly NOT perfect hair. Every time he pulls the now well-worn scrap of paper with Eddie’s number from his pocket, his heart rate jumps to an unhealthy level, and he stuffs it away. This has, of course, royally pissed off Robin Buckley.
“I mean, Jesus Christ, Steve. What is the point of getting a cute guy’s number if you aren’t even going to use it? I think I would have called him more than you have by now, and he doesn’t even have boobies!”
Steve crosses his arms and lets out a disgruntled huff. “Look, I told him some seriously personal stuff, okay? I doubt he even wants me to call him.”
Robin shoots him a deadly glare as she restocks the chocolate chunk ice cream, her stern look tempered slightly by her ridiculous sailor outfit. Scoops Ahoy is an okay place to work, all things considered, but Steve has considered reporting the ice cream shop to the Better Business Bureau for the uniforms alone.
“Why the hell would he give you his number, then? Please don’t be a dingus,” she snorts as she wipes an arm across her sweaty forehead.
“He probably felt bad for me, okay? Seriously. If I had told you that story, you wouldn’t be like ‘Wow, can’t wait to jump his bones!’ You’d think I was a pathetic dude with daddy issues,” Steve groans, flopping forward against the counter. His track record with guys had been, so far, awful. It was hard enough to be a bisexual man in the 80s, let alone in a small town in Indiana. One wrong move, the wrong word, and he could be arrested or worse. It didn’t give a guy a whole lot of confidence.
“For the record, I wouldn’t have wanted to jump your bones regardless, but whatever,” Robin says dryly. Her eyes are soft as she catches his arm. “Just don’t let yourself lose out on something nice ‘cause you’re scared, okay?”
Steve doesn’t look at her as he tugs out of her grip and starts organizing the spoons.
~~~
Eddie Munson has always hated places like the Starcourt Mall. There are always way too many people, too much erroneous noise, and the workers start to follow you around the store if you start touching everything that looks like it might be soft. However, even he cannot deny the hypnotic pull of a brand-new Tower Records shop.
Weaving in between soccer moms and bubblegum-chewing teenage girls, he skids around a corner and gazes above the heads of the crowd, trying to spot the Tower Records logo amongst the perms. Nothing catches his eye except a blue and red neon sign flashing ‘Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor’ across the mall. Figuring there were worse places to take a break and get directions, Eddie shrugs and fights his way through the crowd and steps into the nautical ice cream parlor.
The man at the counter has his back to Eddie, but upon hearing Eddie’s boots squeak on the linoleum he turns and begins to recite sullenly, as if from a drilling manual; “Ahoy, are you ready to set off into an ocean of flavor with me as your capt-“
Steve snaps his mouth shut when he makes eye contact with Eddie. In comparison, Eddie’s mouth is gaping like a beached trout, and he doesn’t seem to have the capacity to shut it, because Steve, “tattoo boy who he had moaned and whined about to Argyle for literal hours” Steve, is standing right in front of him in tiny shorts and a sailor’s hat and is that lip gloss?
His face is on fire, smoke might be coming out of his ears, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the shorts. Apparently, the Scoops Ahoy motto was “Serve ice cream and invade Eddie Munson’s wet dreams for at least a month!” Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot, his discomfort growing as the silence stretches longer. It had been days since they’d met, and Steve hadn’t called once. Wayne had gotten so sick of him asking if he had any messages that he’d threatened to tear the phone out of the wall.
“Well, hiya Stevie. How’d that ink turn out? Thought I might get to hear about it after you left, but I think my phone might be busted? That, or my uncle is lying to me about not getting any messages.” There. False bravado. The tried and true method of any queer man about to get rejected by an obscenely handsome ice cream salesman.
“I’m sorry,” Steve blurts. His hands twitch, as though he wanted to reach across the grimy counter but thought better of it at the last second. “I didn’t know how to call you and… so I didn’t.”
His face is ashen, full lips parted as he breathes. Eddie thinks he might never see a more beautiful thing in his life, but he takes a step back, a false grin stretching his lips into a practiced and careful expression.
“Hey, man, no big deal. I misread things. It happens! You were darling, and I am well-known for my sweet tooth.” He smiles a real smile this time and holds out his hand to shake. “No hard feelings as long as you can point me in the direction of the new record store?”
Steve stares at his ring-clad fingers for too long before he turns and starts to wrestle with the junky cash register on the counter. Something snaps as he yanks it open and fumbles for the receipt paper, tearing off a sheet and beginning to scribble furiously. Eddie is just thinking to himself that this guy must think he’s too stupid to remember one or two sentences of directions when the paper is shoved into his outstretched hand. Steve has scrawled his full name and number in thin, slanted handwriting.
A bubble of hope rises in Eddie’s chest as he stares at the piece of paper in his hand. This isn’t platonic with a capital P. Or at least if it is, the universe is mean and should reevaluate how it operates.
“This way you can call me, because I’m a total chickenshit and am definitely terrified of you,” Steve declares as he gnaws on his bottom lip. “Or if I fucked it up that’s whatever and I get it. The record store is like 15 stores down to the right.” He looks like a puppy someone had kicked and left out in the rain.
“When is your shift over? Or rather, when will you be home and sitting by the phone?” Eddie asks in a breathless rush.
Steve’s face brightens with a shy but triumphant smile. “I’m off at 7, home by 7:15!”
“7:30, loverboy. I need a ride.” The pane of frosted glass behind Steve slides open, revealing a pretty girl in a similar uniform to her coworker, although her outfit isn’t having quite the same effect on Eddie as Steve’s is. Grinning like a hyena, she pulls a whiteboard out from behind her and uncaps a marker, putting a single tally in a column labeled “You Rule” that has thus far remained empty. Steve tosses a waffle cone at her head, which she ducks, before sliding the panel shut once more.
“7:30 then. Got it. Expect my call, big boy,” Eddie bows theatrically. He steps backward, attempting a suave exit, and spins around before he can say anything else horrific and embarrassing like “Need a skipper for your next voyage?”
As he is hurrying out of the shop, he hears a crash and a shout of “Buckley, you are so dead!” Eddie grins and stares down at the phone number in his hand, trip to the record store completely forgotten. Steve Harrington had no idea what he was signing up for.
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If I tag you in error I am so sorry!! Please message me or comment and I will take you off no hard feelings I am super frazzled by the response to this series and very likely have screwed up this list. If I missed your name feel free to absolutely roast me in the comments :) I can take the heat
Tag list (Holy moly here we go) - @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @throwbackthrowaway @vampireinthesun @mightbeasleep @steve-the-hairrington @nelotegreitic @swimmingbirdrunningrock @thehumblefigtree @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @idsellmysoulforsteddie @toobluebrunette @azreadytodie @rainydays35 @luna-munson83 @sl1187 @artiststarme @bethebitch @ultrarainbowunicorn100 @doilooklikebees @this-is-moony-lovegood @impeachy @grimmfitzz @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @maya-custodios-dionach @brassreign @kurumeki @zerokrox-blog @starxlark @chaoticvictorianspirit @2nd-star-2-the-rhgt @adankrivervalleynearyou @yikes-a-bee @e0509 @babyblender @shinekocreator @hope-can-be-your-sword @hellomynameismoo @knitsforthetrail @thegingerrapunzel @blindbisexualgoose @4nemo1egend @piningapple @aceflavouredyougurt @cyranyx @fruitandbubbles @eyesofshinigami @thefreakandthehair @prettyboyandthemetalhead @void-library @steddio @jjoesjonas @vecnuthy @twiggspots @spectrum-spectre @henderdads @sweetcreaturetm @morning-rituals @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie fic#scoops ahoy#steve harrington scoops ahoy uniform#bisexual steve harrington#gay eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#st4#babygirl steve harrington#tattooed eddie munson#eddie x steve#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#robin buckley#wingwoman robin buckley#oh these two#they are in love#steve harrington wears lipgloss#scoops ahoy uniform is hot and im not afraid to say it
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