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cacoetheswriting · 3 months

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honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre.

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours.

The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets.

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story.

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in.

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.”

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing.

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly.

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw.

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well.

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open.

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap.

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length.

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.”

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh.

“Please, Eddie.”

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

#this one is a little self indulgent ngl #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #celebrity skin.

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

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Wrath

Title picture by @loneghostwolf

Soap x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, p in v, m oral receiving, f oral receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, breath play, praise kink, spit kink, hate sex, allusions to cock warming

I apologise for cheesey lines in this lmfao again not proofread because I’m so tired

John McTavish.

Johnny.

Fucking Soap.

An absolute thorn in your side since your first day with 141. Fast forward 8 months and the team had grown tired of your constant bickering and arguing. Every little situation, every single thing you did he had to make a comment. The bickering normally ended with you shouting ‘suck my dick Soap!’

Then came the constant comments. The constant jokes, it wore you down so fast. There were times when you did actually get on but they were few and far between. Gaz and Ghost often joked you needed to fuck to release the tension. They were met with middle fingers from each of you, both telling them to ‘fuck off’ in unison. Which naturally spurred them on further. They compared you to an old married couple.

It came to a head after a sparring session one day, you’d been paired with Soap to your utter dismay. ‘Knew you didn’t have it in you to hit me princess’ he chided, a stupid fucking smirk on his face. ‘Don’t call me princess’ you spat, eyes glaring straight through him. ‘Why? You fuckin act like one.’

‘I’m fuckin warning you John.’ He put his hands up in a fake surrender ‘oooh, usin my full name are we hen? Must be in trouble.’

You saw red.

Leaping across the mats your shoulder connected with his chest in an almighty thud. It knocked him to the floor, winding him. You scrambled to your feet and managed to get a lucky kick into his abdomen. He swiped at your legs and sent you flying backwards, you landed straight in your arse letting out a yelp as you landed.

That’s when Price and Ghost intervened. ‘I’ve had a fuckin tit full of you two’ Ghost shouted, he gripped Soap by the scruff of his collar as he pulled him up. Price was more gentle with you but still pissed. ‘In the meeting room. Now.’ Price ordered as he matched you both out of the gym.

They shoved you into the room and Price stared you both down. ‘Now. I don’t care how you resolve this, but fuckin sort it out! You’re both doin my Swede in and I’ve had a fuck full. I don’t wanna see you again till it’s done. Am I understood?’ His face was stern and unforgiving. He meant business.

You both looked at him, feeling like children who’d been scolded by their father. ‘Yes sir’ you replied together, egos bruised, frustrations near boiling point. ‘Good’ he replied simply before shutting the door.

You sat on one of the tables, eyes fixed on the floor refusing to look at him. He stood opposite, leant against the wall, arms crossed, brow furrowed as he glared at you. ‘What’s your fuckin problem?’ He scowled. You shot your head up to look at him ‘my problem?! My fucking problem?! All you do is wind me up and take the piss out of me. How do you think I’m gonna react? By kissing your boots and thanking you? Fuck off.’ Your face was tight, pure unfiltered rage seeping from your skin.

‘Just banter hen’ he shrugged. Dismissive prick. ‘Don’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining John. You’re a dick.’

‘I’m a dick? Talkin some right ol shit there lass. We’re only in here cause o’you!’

‘Because you wouldn’t stop calling me princess, you know I hate it!’

He walked over to you, his feeble attempt to intimidate you. He stood in front of you, arms still crossed, biceps bulging as he lingered there. You glared up at him, mouth pressed into a firm line. ‘Your intimidation tactics don’t work here John. Grow up. You’re nothing but a jumped up nobody from the fuckin slums who got lucky.’ You voice was full of venom, poison seeped from every word.

Gripping your shirt he slammed you backwards onto the desk, panting beneath him you smiled up at him. ‘What’s the matter John? Hit a nerve have I? You know I’m right. You play the jester well, but we all know you’re a pathetic excuse of a man.’ You gripped his hand that was wound within your shirt, you knew you’d gone too far. You knew damn well he was a good solider and one who always had your back on the field. But you were so done with his shit you wanted to hurt him.

He lowered his face to within an inch of yours, his blue eyes a deep void of rage and contempt. His breath fanned over your lips as he desperately tried to regain all control. You offered up a smug grin, chest still heaving, waiting for him to make the next move. He was stood over you, his free hand in a tight fist as he chewed his jaw. Your thighs clenched together ever so gently.

‘What’s the matter Johnny? You look like you wanna hit me or fuck me. Which is it?’

You knew what you wanted.

‘You’re such a fuckin bitch.’

With that his lips came crashing to yours as you flung your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. You nails raked the surface of his scalp as he groaned into your mouth. It was a frenzy of lips, tongue and teeth as you both battled for dominance. Finally letting go of your shirt he cupped your jaw, his calloused thumb pulled at your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist you could feel his hard cock press against your cunt.

Adrenaline surged through you as your heart collided with your ribs. He dropped a hand and pawed at your breast through your shirt. His rough grip pulled a moan from deep within your chest, causing you to dig you nails into the sensitive part of his neck. He hissed slightly as he moved away from your mouth and nipped your ear, ‘knew you wanted t’fuck me’ he smirked as he bit into your neck.

You jolted your hips up at the sudden pain that radiated along your neck, as you bit your lip. He kissed along your collar bone digging his finger tips into your flesh. He’d wanted this for a long time but was too stubborn to admit it. You pissed him off to no end, your perfect voice and body, your natural intelligence, your beauty riled him up something rotten. But my god now he had you, he was going to make you feel just how much he fucking hated you.

You were going to feel his wrath.

‘Off’ he ordered pulling at your top, sitting up you pulled it over your head causing your breasts to bounce. He watched in awe as your body was revealed to him. You soft supple skin, plump breasts, you were positively glowing. ‘So bossy’ you muttered under your breath. Hoping he hadn’t heard. But he did.

He gripped your waist band and pulled you full force to your knees, you let out a hiss of pain as he freed his cock from his shorts. Your breath hitched in your throat as you finally saw what he was hiding in there. It was slightly bigger than average, a thick vein wrapped its self around the thick shaft. The tip already painfully swollen, pre-cum glistening in the dull light of the room.

Without any warning he forced his cock to the back of your throat, you gripped his thighs trying desperately to breathe through your nose. He placed a hand just underneath your jaw as he fucked your throat, ‘knew I’d find a way to shut you up’ he smirked. Eyes screwed shut as he whimpered against the texture of your mouth. Warm and inviting. You looked up at him from your knees, tears threatening to fall as your throat constricted around him.

Salvia gathered around your lips as you let him brutally bury his cock within you. Slight gagging noises bubbled from within you as you reached up and slid your nails down his abdomen. Leaving pretty pink claw marks against his skin. He finally pulled out allowed you to take in a huge inhale, saliva clung to your chin, warm and thick, mixed with his arousal. You swiped it onto your thumb before licking it back into your mouth. He watched open mouthed and panting.

And just like that? You spat it back onto his cock, working his shaft with your hand. Twisting his hand into your hair he pulled you back to your feet ‘too good sweetheart, haven’t finished with you yet.’ Smirking you pulled him back into a wet kiss, he guided you back to the table as he pulled your shorts down. A rough finger swiped along your clothed slit, your panties saturated with your juices. ‘This wet already? Didn’t know you were such a dirty little bitch.’

Pushing him backwards you slid your own fingers into your pants, the sound of your arousal was music to his ears. ‘You gonna talk all day? Or you gonna eat my pussy Johnny?’ You cocked an eyebrow as you bit your lower lip. Within seconds his face was buried in your cunt, his piercing blue eyes strained as he worked his tongue along your clit. Muffled moans of pleasure vibrated against you as he tried to taste every part of you. Rolling your hips against his face only made him hungrier.

He pushed two fingers into you, stretching your hole as he payed extra attention to your clit. Nibbling, sucking, nipping at the bundle of nerves. Sweet sweet moans filled his ears as you desperately tried to cum, the burn from the stretch adding another layer pure pleasure. He felt you start to clench against his fingers, your moans became more breathless and frequent. Not one to cut this time short he pulled out, eliciting a groan of annoyance from you.

‘Not till I say so’ he chided as he pushed his fingers into your mouth. You hummed as you tasted yourself, ‘I fucking hate you’ you hissed as he removed them. He lined himself up and pushed himself all the way in as he lowered his face to yours. ‘If hatin’ me feels this good then I’m your fucking villain.’

You would have rolled your eyes, but his cock felt so good as the tip dragged along your walls. He gripped your jaw forcing it open as he spat a perfect ball of saliva into your mouth.

You swallowed it eagerly dragging your nails along his back, digging them in, desperate to draw blood. His pace was brutal, there was no regard in his movements. He drove his cock as deep as he could into you, wanting to force every single ounce of pleasure from you. Your back arched off the table as he sucked your neck, desperate to mark you. To claim you. There was only one person who could fuck you like this, and that was him.

‘Fuck, Johnny, don’t stop, please’ you begged. He grunted into the crux of your neck, his breath burning into your skin. Your moans had been replaced by desperate gasps for air. Your bodies rubbed together, slick with sweat, pure unfiltered hate and desire.

With that he pulled out and forcefully slammed you face down onto the table, kicking your legs apart. He pushed back into your cunt, the stretch again taking your by surprise. A wide hand made contact with your ass, a satisfying smack rung out in the meeting room. This time he clawed at your back, you gasped as the sudden pain radiated along your spine. Pushing your hips back into him he let out a low chuckle, ‘woulda fucked you months ago if it knew you were this desperate for it.’

‘Fuck, Johnny’ you moaned as he let a ribbon of spit fall onto your tight hole. He watched as your cunt eagerly took his cock before he pushed his thumb into your ass. The extra hole being filled made you feel deliciously full, reaching between your legs your ran your fingers in small circles. He grunted and sighed behind you, his voice gravelly and low as he chased his orgasm. Peering over your shoulder you flashed him a grin that would make the devil blush.

Snaking his free hand around your neck he pulled you back into him, your head arched onto his broad shoulder. He watched you intently, mouth open, eyes fluttering as you tried your hardest to maintain eye contact. His firm hand wrapped easily around your delicate neck, pressing firmly on your pressure points heightening the already dizzying pleasure. His thrusts became slower, more methodical as he neared his climax.

‘You gonna cum for me?’ He whispered above your lips, grip tightening on your throat. ‘Yesyesyesyesyes’ you said, voice quiet and strained. ‘Atta girl … cum on this cock.’ Your pussy clenched around his cock as you came, a powerful wave of pleasure punched you in the stomach. Your moans muffled. Caught against the pressure in your throat. He placed a strangely tender kiss on your lips as you panted into his mouth.

It was then his face twisted, brows furrowed together as a slight whimper burst from his chest. You felt his cock paint your pussy with his cum, pulsating within you. You stood there for a minute, both too euphoric to come down. You smiled against his lips as he dropped his hand to your waist, pulling you in tighter. ‘Mmm could keep my cock in there all day’ he sighed. Nipping his bottom lip ‘we’ll keep makin me hate you and I might just let you.’

———-

Taglist - @griffmors @luminousbeings-crudematter

My little soap gremlins - @brewed-pangolin @deadbranch @dustlandfairytail

#call of duty #soap smut #john soap mctavish x you #soap x you #soap mw2 #john mctavish #john mactavish x reader #john mctavish smut #soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap call of duty #cod mw22 #fan fic smut #modern warefare 2 #smut

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muntitled · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐕𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

Lukas Matsson x Fem!Reader | Kendall Roy x Fem!reader

Summary: Kendall had always been a competent, steady boyfriend, but there is always, always room for improvement.

Warnings: Language, Politics, Business, Cheating, Mentions of murder, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, CNC, Rough Sex, choking, degradation, ownership kink, dom/sub dynamics. Roman as his own warning.

I am mentally unwell, and so is Matsson.

Due to your perilous schedule as a political and public figure, arguing with your lover had never really made it past scheduling in the smorgasbord of your career. Perhaps that is why Kendall decided to pick unnecessary fights in the middle of a Swedish trip. He felt, and rightfully so, infinitesimally insignificant when compared to the hellscape that is your established career in the American political sphere.

You can see it in the way his broad shoulders hunch slightly, the way his larger lower lip protrudes into a petulant pout.

You're appalled.

"Kendall, you can't be fucking serious," Your first night on Matsson's retreat was scheduled to be filled with myriad orgasms in myriad uncanny positions. You and Kendall should be christening this luxury suite, but, instead you find your voice has climbed to ungodly octaves to a point that you feared you may shatter the glass wall that displayed the quiet Norwegian woods.

You couldn't give even half a shit as to whether others housed in adjoining tree-house suites might hear your furious bickering.

"You're a fucking child," he says lowly, desperately trying to regain control over the situation but only fumbling it by the second, "Do you know that?"

"No!" You exclaim, "Iverson and Sophie are!" He turns his back to you. Your nails dig into the bedsheets, "Those are your actual children, yeah!? When was the last fucking time you called them!? You're too busy measuring your dick against the Swedes- you're too busy to give Rava a fucking call."

"I have met plenty of selfish sociopaths in my day, Kendall, but this is unfathomable." His shadow falls over you like a second cloud in the already darkened suite's interior.

"Did she put you up to this?" He asks in that manic state of his with his hand pointed outward in condemnation of his most recent enemy.

"Are you aware that you have children together? You will know her for the rest of your life, are you aware of that?"

Kendall is quick to deflect, "Fuck! I can't catch a fucking break. Of course you run to my ex and- and- what? You fucking-meet up at Tasha's. Fucking talking about Kendall's cock-rings over your croissants."

You withhold the urge to laugh by letting a wave of fury wash over you anew. "You didn't even tell them their grandfather died before you dragged us out to fucking Norway, Kendall! That's unhinged! You're unhinged!"

"I'm perfectly hinged!" He says, turning away from you, pyjama pants billowing as he grabs his keys and a pack of cigarettes, "I'm like the doors on fucking Downing street, motherfucker," He speaks lowly. Voice simmering. "I'm fucking hinged."

The door slams with finality, leaving you clinging to your robe in front of a backdrop full of trees.

There's a deeply sated sigh that leaves your throat as you haul yourself over the Egyptian linen sheets. Fighting with Kendall had always been an impossible feat- something akin to yelling obscenities at a brick wall smeared with cocaine, but it always left you marginally satisfied after. A part of you felt like you might be saving him.

There is a frown, slight and not at all visible in the low evening light, drifting across your face as you stare down at yourself with disappointment and a hint of disapproval. Kendall was supposed to rip this robe right off you the second you got out of the shower. But, instead, you find yourself turning on your side, staring at the pines beyond the glass.

The sound of the door clicking open, ruins the serenity that had begun to settle.

"I for sure thought you'd gone and blown your head off for real this time, Ken." You mumble monotonously while staring ahead at the glass.

"While all these hungry vultures at my retreat does make me lean into the sound of suicide, I quite enjoy living."

You're quick to pull your unravelled rope across your frame as you sit up against the oak headboard.

"Not Kendall." He says.

Matsson towers enough to hunch slightly and disrupt the flow of the sleek, vertical finishes.

"Why are you here?"

"Well it is my retreat."

He smiles. Or at least you believe that he believes he is smiling. Sharks can't smile, you don't think.

"My house."

Lukas shoves his hands in pockets as he continues to stare at you. His disciplined eyes never stray or drift across your exposed legs, they never gloss over your deadly grip on the tightened robe digging into the plushness across your middle.

He's staring at you. Eyes boring into eyes.

"I've come to deliver a noise complaint."

"Consider it delivered."

He does not leave. Instead, he delves deeper into your space, the space shared with your boyfriend. You watch carefully as Matsson plants himself on the edge of the bed. There is an air of nervousness that bristles throughout the Norwegian woods as he brings one leg up to cross the other. You watch, entranced by how the soft Tom Ford sweatpants crease slightly under his fluid movements. His beige Balenciaga shirt sits comfortably and it elicits a sense of control as he makes himself comfortable in front of you.

The one thing you could never allow yourself to be was intimidated, and intimidation is all you heard from the mouths that affirmed this man. However, the subtle yet suffocating label whoring, the designer sandals…

He was just another man, suffocated by the weight of his own money. He had everything to prove. That gave you control.

"I didn't know when Kendall brought me on this trip that I was to be subjected to an invasion of privacy,"

"I heard you the first time," He says, chuckling in complete condescension, "I am aware you're here with Kendall. You don't have to bring him up the whole fucking time."

"Are you here under work pretences then? I'm not involved in the hellscape that is ATN, nor the Nazi wonderland that is Waystar so I would make a lousy spy."

"I know who you are," his eyes dart away, giving you enough time to break slightly, take heavier breaths and compose yourself, "I've seen the work you are… attempting to accomplish in that flaccid dick of a country," His gaze is back on you, "And while I do applaud you, politics bores me. You're all fucked anyway, I just came here to enquire if you would like to have sex with me?"

The manner in which he says those words, so calmly and succinctly, has you praying for another moment of regeneration while he darts his eyes away.

"You mean the noise complaint was a fluke?"

"In addition to the noise complaint, I would like to sleep with you, yes."

You're practically suffocted with the over abundance of choice. Matsson would be a fun and interesting side project for you to sink your claws into and manipulate with the added advantage of sex.

But there is a darkness lurking behind this man's gaze that promises far too much risk with little to no reward.

"No, I think I'm good. Thanks for stopping by, Lukas. It was certainly not a pleasure talking to you-"

You speak calmly, shuffling off the bed so you can escort him to the door. "Please find yourself outside of my personal and habitual space kindly and quickly-" but the axis tilts, and he does a daring thing by encircling a strong grip on your forearm. You try to lurch your arm out of his iron grip but it's fucking sealed around you like a constricting python. The darkness seems so incredibly poignant. God, all this man holds is darkness.

"I did not ask for myself." He says with a hint of condescension, "I asked for you." Matsson has you locked between his spindly legs while your robe billows open. Your face warms as you feel coolness settle against your exposed stomach but Lukas' eyes never leave your own.

From this angle, there is no chance to look away. Everything is maximised, from the wrinkles running like river channels underneath his bright blue eyes to the slight overbite in his teeth, perhaps his only external flaw.

What a dangerous individual.

"They're Roys." Lukas says, "He's a Roy," You suddenly feel juvenile and bashful, as you take the scolding, "You should know better,"

You're only vaguely aware that the distance between you two has been lessening because the air feels warmer. His breath is mixing with yours and his hand is doing a funny little dance along your forearm. "You should know better," He says.

And perhaps you should have closed the distance, perhaps you should have chased him away. You certainly should not have waited for a pair of irregular footsteps approaching to finally push the lumbering man away from you. Thankfully, he kindly obliged although Matsson's hand stalled, still rubbing against your elbow when Kendall stumbles in.

"Uh, what the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck is he doing here?" Kendall's eyes are tired and bloodshot and you step away from Lukas' gravitational pull as you curl into Kendall's side. Kendall's suede Versace jacket is cool but his skin is warm as you burrow into the side of his neck. Your guilt worsens as you feel Kendall's arm curl around your waist.

You speak into Kendall's ear, loud enough for Lukas to hear, "Matsson is still trying to rape your company, I'm afraid. " You say with a lazy smile.

"Already raped," Says Lukas, shuffling passed the two of you, "Logan was the decision maker, remember?"

Before the man finds himself over the threshold, Kendall speaks up.

"Hey, no more private visits, yeah? Not cool."

You watch with bated breath as Matsson only cracks a toothy lopsided grin before tapping the wood of the doorframe and disappearing.

That evening had ended, like most of the evenings to come, with angry, jealousy-fueled sex. There had always been a distinct animosity between Kendall and Matsson but whatever had been in the air seemed to triple. Kendall kept you close during the entire experience. He kept you under Kremlin-level surveillance but he couldn't be with you all the time. In the moments you found yourself without Kendall, Matsson would appear from out of the shadows like a demon, slinking behind you with a hand ghosting your hip. He watched you from above the rim of whiskey-filled tumblers and even asked for your input whenever conversation within the group got a little political. One such conversation had the unfortunate interjection of one Roman Roy, who saw you as another toy in his toy box.

"What do you need two assistants for anyway?" The grinding of your teeth come to a deafening halt as you turn your head to face the youngest Roy. The smile on your face is amicable, some might even call it polite, but it is a well enough facade veneering the tempest brewing beneath.

"What- does Jess hold your balls while you tell knock-off Maya Angelou here" He points to you, "-to bend her head and suck?"

There were a number of things you simply allowed when it came to your courtship with Kendall Roy. You would even shame yourself into admitting that you might have found Kendall's overall emotional incompetence and dysfunctional family quite endearing in the beginning. But, like every magnificent, spine curling orgasm, the magic ebbed away quickly and soon, you were left with nothing but the wetness of his cum, cooling between your thighs.

That is what Kendall and his siblings were like most times.

Cooling, diabolical cum.

"Rome, come on." And therein lay Kendall's consistent, valeant response, of which he chose to defend you.

Rome. Come on.

Simply hearing those words leave his brother's mouth with even the faintest hint of disapproval sent Roman into a frenzy (you could see his pupils dilating and his cock hardening from your spot on a couch adjacent to Roman and Shiv). Matsson's entire foyer was set alight with amicable, drunken murmurs, of which Greg's nervous whimpers were occasionally heard peppered in.

Tom had retired to bed, (whether that would be in the same suite as Shiv, would be a satisfactory cup of tea you would divulge with your girlfriends later.) Matsson and his followers sat in their own private harem in a corner beside you.

"What?" Roman cries, slamming back a handful of ground nuts (an admittedly clever substitute for Swedish alcohol) "I was just asking a question. I know your people like to claim reparations for a lot of shit these days but I'm sure enquiring about the girl my big brother's fucking doesn't equate to slavery."

Although you hated the little demon with every bright blue blood cell running through your arteries, you did admire the sure-fire way he would spit his hateful vitriol.

"I appreciate the faux-concern, Roman." You keep it curt, cute and even forgiving, hoping he might take the win and leave you to down the last of your Hennessey in peace.

"That's your cue," Kendall announces, "Drop it."

"Look at how wet she's getting from my rich white brother finally using his voice to defend her for once." The conversation between the Swedes had long since ceased and your throat clogs as the music tins through hidden speakers. "Kenny so clearly has a type," Says Roman, now facing his brother with his elbows steepled on his knee. "I bet you couldn't wait to dive into that plethora of liberal pussy, could you, big brother?"

Your patience had long since snapped and your words are flying before you could stop them, "Considering you couldn't even get pussy without catching a rape charge or an incredibly disappointed prostitute, I'll assume this pseudo-incest interest you have in Kendall's sex life is normal,"

Roman only laughs, "No amount of sick burns is going to release you from the fact that your fucking a crackhead. Maybe it's the money," he taps the bottom of chin in a flamboyant display of consideration, "Although if it's raping our company that's your main goal, the Swedes might have you beat." Matsson straightens in your periphery, not by a lot but by enough to have a stoney smile cracking across your face.

"ATN is not my vice. Racist Propaganda doesn't get me as wet as it gets you, Roman."

"How convenient. I thought all Leftys held special orgys dedicated to besmirching racist propoganda."

Your response was already loaded in the back of your throat, aimed and ready to fire at Roman with reckless abandon. If it weren't for Lukas' interjection, you would have hoped to leave the little man bleeding all over Matsson's marble floors.

"You let him talk to your woman like that?" The rest of the party had left this specific ring of people behind, but that seemed okay. Everyone within the circle, the important people, were silent as Matsson turned his attention to a floundering Kendall.

"Maybe worry about your situation over there and I'll worry about mine."

"I'm not worried." Says Lukas, with a fierce stoicism that was so unique to him. Your heart rate speeds up ever so slightly as the couch groans while Lukas begins to rise. His friends each hold knowing smiles. Hungry smiles.

"Would you like to know why I'm not worried?" Asks Lukas, advancing with a slow gait. You turn your head just in time to watch Kendall's Adam's apple against his throat. He was speechless as per usual when the discussion didn't involve drugs or stock prices.

"Ask." Says Lukas as he advances. "Ask me why I'm not worried."

Upon you first meeting, you had found Lukas' height to be quite rude and unbecoming. You expected him to duck down, almost out of courtesy for the rest of the world laying low underneath him. As his shadow falls over you and Kendall, you find yourself grateful for this giant man making your boyfriend feel small for once- almost as small as you were made to feel around the Roys.

"Why aren't you worried?" Kendall's voice is still masked with confidence as he peers up at Matsson.

Matsson, who's teeth glint in the low evening light, like a hungry shark. He bends down low. You move slightly out of the way as he whispers into Kendall's ear.

"Because I'm gonna fuck her, okay?"

Absolute silence grows pregnant between the two and you're left to do nothing but watch as the exchange unfolds and Kendall's perceived control over everything and everyone unravels. His mouth opens and closes slightly while Matsson watches with a sadistic sort of pleasure in his eye…

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Nothing," Says Lukas, having returned to his full height. "I didn't say anything. I just asked your-" His blue eyes darts to you and back, "-friend, if she'd like to see my bookshelf in the living room. I saw her reading Bronte earlier," Matsson shrugs, "Thought I might extend the invitation."

Lukas is not one to wait for confirmation, nor is he a man that waits for validation. He shuffles out his foyer, quite comfortably leaving present company behind with his hands stuffed in his pockets. No rebuttal from Kendall needed.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? What are you doing?" You lift yourself from the couch, ironing out the invisible creases on your plaid Chanel skirt as your eyes dart to Roman, now in idle conversation with Siobhan.

"They're just books, Kendall." You sigh softly. "You can't honestly believe I'd be any safer here." You deliver one final gaze at his lesser appealing siblings before following Matsson out of the foyer. The amount of people congesting the dark corridors lessen as you venture further into Matsson's abode. The walls are built with a dark, heavily sanded stone. Something casting a very ominous, yet unmistakably earthy glow throughout the corridor as the mouth spills into a large and defining living room. The colours are dark. The coal walls are all encompassing and Matsson stands beside a low leather couch, waiting rather awkwardly for your arrival.

"There is no library or bookshelf." He says with his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his sweats.

"I figured. You strike me as someone that would keep all their books stored on some gadget."

"Technology and leisure are the two civilizers of man," He says, watching you with bated breath as you slink around his living room, eyeing but never once prodding his things.

"Don't misquote Disraeli, it's not very attractive."

Matsson seems to relax at that, opting to take a step closer to you as he speaks, "I'll misquote Disraeli as much as I want. The 'increased means and increased leisure' part seems a little far-fetched." Your heart begins to hammer in your chance at the advancing man and you turn, whether out of cowardice or bashfulness, choosing rather to examine the sculpture along his mantle.

Your back begins to straightens as warmth radiates from him. He does not move but he cages you in. You would not be able to leave his sphere even if you wanted to.

"We don't have to fuck, obviously. It just didn't seem safe for you to stay in that situation."

You turn slowly and you find yourself slightly jarred by Matsson's proximity. His turtleneck hugs a string and definite build and the hunger in his eyes melts all inhibitions.

"I don't need saving."

"I'm talking about the little angry man." He says, referring to Roman. "I've seen your debates. It's the little nugget of American politics I find myself quite entertained by and I have no desire to wipe a Roy's blood off my floors this evening."

His words end up snapping any and all inhibition as you're throwing yourself quite mercilessly at him. The kiss is silent but so inexplicably charged allowing you to bump into various pieces of furniture in the process of pushing you up against the nearest stone wall. A wall that is cold to the touch, eliciting a surprised gasp which fuels Lukas all the more. He displays wet slobbering kisses down the nape of your neck as he murmurs drunkenly in your ear.

"I like seeing you like this. I like seeing you among my things." The conviction present in his gravelly vibrato has a pool of wetness gathering in between your legs. Your arm circles around his broad back until your pulling, rather roughly at the blonde hair curling at the nape of neck. This had consequently been a morbid mistake because his grip travels to your throat lightning fast, compressing a dangerous weight on your oesophagus as he rips his lips away from your throat.

"You don't get to do that," he says far too casually. "You don't get to assume control when you are here in my house with my things."

Matsson keeps his eye trained on you but your focus in compounded, solely, on his wandering hand tracing the hem of your skirt. "Hey, hey, hey." As you strive to keep watch of his wandering hand, Matsson moves his head into your line of vision.

"My things. Yeah? You're apart of that now."

As his hand inches underneath your skirt you're suddenly flooded with a wave of unfamiliar emotions - fear being the most poignant and defining one.

"I don't want to do this anymore-" You're not sure whether you mean it or not but you're quite certain that Matsson doesn't care. You're suddenly truly aware that you had released something you don't really know how to control.

"Bullshit, you don't want to do this anymore." You finally feel his hand sliding into your panties and your legs wavers underneath you, "Your words say stupid shit," Sings Lukas as his fingers ghost over your swollen clothes, "But your cunt just can't seem to lie." His grip on your throat tightens before relaxing as he brings your head up to his lips. "You're fucking soaked."

"I'll fucking sue you," Although you're unable to assume a single confident tone as his fingers begin to play with your cunt, "I'll fucking take you to court for fucking assault, motherfucker."

"You wanna call Kendall for assistance?" He asks, slyly pushing his middle finger deep inside you with no regard for your strangled gasp. "Here, let's call him together. Say 'Kendall!'"

The only thing able to leave your mouth is a straggled moan as Matsson keeps you pinned to the wall by the throat. The sound of your voice - so incoherent and helpless has him evading any sliver of decency he might have had. "Fuck, you're so perfect." He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before spinning you around until he is sandwiched between your body and the wall. "I have to fuck you."

"Watch the door for me," he says, pulling your hips right up against the bulge in his pants. "Watch just in case Kendall, shows up. Right, sweet girl?"

You're nodding dumbly as Lukas hunches his tall frame while grinding his bulge into your backside. He has your skirt lifted, and his shadow casted over you as he murmurs diabolical things into your ear.

"God, you're a fucking slut, you're such a fucking slut." He keeps a grip on your throat while the unoccupied hand reaches around to lift your shirt haphazardly, "No amount of smart ass comments will ever hide the fact that you're just another whore." The casual air with which he degrades has you simultaneously humping the air while you push back against his bulge. It is in that moment when he finally decides to release his aching cock from his sweatpants dotted with precum.

"Jesus Christ, feel how hard you made me. Feel how fucking turned on I am just because you decided to be a stupid slut." You can feel the head of his cock pressing into you until you're unable to hold in the desperation.

"Jesus- Lukas!"

"What? You want me to fuck you? I think you want me to fuck you but I'm not sure." You're unsure of what he's asking, too blinded by the possibility of a carefully curated orgasm.

"Go on." He says, "Ask me to fuck you. Ask me to fuck your pussy while your boyfriend waits just downstairs."

There are tears pooling in your eyes at the sheer lewdness and the unapologetic quality of this betrayal, but your mouth opens and soon, you're shakily crying out. "Please just fuck me, Lukas."

His cock rams into you with a surety that leaves you winded. He seems as if his patience had been waning as well, what with the haggard sigh that leaves his throat and the numerous disquiet groans that float in the air. Despite yourself, you do keep a half-lidded gaze on the entrance, not put off, but rather spurred on with the possibility of your boyfriend finding you being railed by his latest rival. The thought alone has you clenching around Lukas' cock with your orgasm cresting.

"Whatever you're thinking about, I'm going to need you to think about it again- you're so fucking tight."

There's an animalistic quality to the sex- being bent over for him while he rests against a wall, a firm grip on your throats and your tits as he rams himself into you again and again.

It's far too much.

You wouldn't think there was something so ruthless hiding underneath such a calm veneer but that's all it is. All it always had been. A veneer.

"You're not with him anymore, do you hear me?"

"Fuck- Lukas I'm gonna cum soon," his grip on your throat tightens until it vacuums out any and all air. Your hand encircles his wrist, begging for release but to no avail.

"Tell me," he says as he continues to fuck mercilessly into you, "Tell me you don't belong to him." He finally gives you lee-way to talk and you're gasping out your response, "I don't. I don't belong to him," he nods slightly, brows firing as he bites into your shoulders.

"Fuck- I didn't plan to cum inside you-"

"I don't fucking care- I'm really close." Lukas nods quickly before releasing your neck to drag your cheek until your faces are pressed together in a smouldering kiss. "Fuck I'm gonna cum inside you-"

His words already have you diving headfirst into a groundbreaking orgasm. You're crying out helplessly, until Matsson has enough sense to cover your mouth with one large hand. He fucks you through it, filling you with cum as he groans just as loudly as you had been.

"Fuck," he chuckles quietly, "Kendall is not going to like that."

"Kendall," You breath heavily, safely contained in Lukas' comforting grip, "Is not my Keeper."

Lukas delivers a chaste kiss on your cheek, his stubble grazing against the side of your face.

"I plan on killing them anyway." He says, simultaneously unaware and aware that he's drifting into pillowtalk.

"Every last one of them."

#lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson smut #lukas matsson x reader #succession fanfic #succession #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #kendall roy smut #lukas matsson #succession season four #succession spoilers #succession smut #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x black!reader #kendall roy x black!reader

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chainsawgvtsfvck · 9 months

Text

Gutsfuck

Øystein/Reader/Pelle

Warnings: Sexual content, minors DNI. Alcohol consumption, Unprotected sex, blowjobs, cunnilingus, threesome, creampie, Pelle being a cold bastard, Øystein being a sweetie

The music blared, the bonfire roared, and on his third beer of the night Øystein finally felt like he could think again. He’d been hanging back, observing groups of people as they arrived. Usually he bounced around more at parties, but tonight he had a different plan.

Tonight, there was a face he’d never seen before - a girl who’d arrived with a familiar outfit of groupies. He’d kept an eye on her as she drifted from group to group, batting her eyelashes and leaving a ring of red lipstick around the mouth of the beer she nursed.

Øystein broke his attention from her to scan the crowd to see that Pelle had his gaze locked on her too, the corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly - then the Swede snapped his gaze to meet Øystein’s directly.

A spark shot up his spine - the blond man’s corpse paint made his eyes look extra intense and alight with mischief. He looked like he wanted to tear her apart and eat her piece by piece.

Øystein tipped his head back and slugged down the rest of his beer. He dropped the empty bottle at his feet and fished two more from a nearby cooler on his way to plop down next to the girl.

He could feel Pelle’s eyes on him the whole way.

“Looks like you could use another.” Øystein said, using his lighter to pop the cap off of both bottles before extending one out to the girl.

She smiled at him, and her lips looked really soft. Her face flushed in what Øystein hoped was pleasure.

“You read my mind,” she said, taking the fresh beer from him, “Euronymous, right?”

Øystein smiled, “That would be me.”

At some point she probably offered her name in return, it flew over his head as they bantered back and forth. He was pleased to find she was at least capable of interesting conversation.

Unfortunately his attention was diverted, as he could almost feel Pelle stalking up behind them. To his surprise, the girl could too. She looked up at Pelle and Øystein noticed how pretty her eyes were.

Blowjob eyes, he thought.

He could tell Pelle was having similar thoughts from the hungry look in his eye.

The Swede was notoriously uninterested in most of the women that came around. It was fairly rare that anyone - man or woman - came around that captured his interest.

Or maybe he was just drunk.

“Hello.” Pelle said simply.

“Hello.” She smiled up back at him.

Øystein leaned in close to the girl’s ear. Fuck it - why not just be direct? He was drunk enough. “Would you like to accompany my friend and I upstairs?”

She flushed again - deeply this time - her gaze flicking between the two men to check if they were serious.

Upon apparently finding that they were, she licked her lips and smiled sweetly.

“I think I would like that very much.”

It was the perfect time of night where the three of them could slip upstairs mostly unnoticed. Pelle lead the way, taking the stairs two at a time and Øystein guided the girl with a firm hand pressed to her waist.

When the three of them were safely shut away in the guitarist’s room, Øystein pulled the girl into a sloppy kiss. His corpse paint smudged her lips and nose, and her bright red lipstick smeared his teeth but neither of them appeared to mind much as she captured his bottom lip between her teeth, eliciting a low and primal growl from the Norwegian man.

Pelle grabbed the girl by the back of the head, his long fingers tangling in her hair, and pulled her face to his. They too met in an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss.

A shiver of pleasure ran down Øystein’s spine at the lewd noises the two were making. He shrugged off his jacket and nudged the couple toward the bed.

“Sit. Both of you.” Øystein gritted out,

“Fucking look at me.” He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

“Open your mouth.” He commanded.

She opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue. Øystein bent over her and spit in her mouth.

“What the fuck do you say?” Pelle whispered to her, nipping along her ear and jawline.

“Th-thank you, Master…” She panted, smiling sweetly up at him.

Øystein’s cock twitched. God, he loved when girls were enthusiastic about getting fucked.

“That’s a good fucking girl, baby.” He cooed, leaning down to kiss her again. His hands traveled up her dress, hooking his fingers around the strips of fabric he found there and shimmying her panties down her hips and off.

Pelle palmed himself through his jeans, eyes locked on his bandmate as Øystein knelt between the girl’s thighs and leaned in to taste her. She gasped quietly, fingers tangling in his dark hair.

With his other hand, Pelle grabbed her face to begin kissing her again. Their kisses only grew sloppier and more desperate as Øystein worked his tongue over the girl’s clit. His fingertips dug into her soft thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

Pelle pulled away long enough to free his cock from his pants before guiding one of the girl’s delicate hands to grip it firmly.

She hummed in pleasure as she began to jerk him off slowly.

“More.” Pelle growled into her mouth.

She pulled away from him, letting her tongue loll out of her mouth, thick drool dripping from it to coat the blonde man’s cock.

“Dirty fucking girl.” Øystein murmured. His lips and chin were glistening with her pussy juice. He reached up and pushed her head down towards Pelle’s cock.

“Suck his fucking dick, baby.”

She did as she was told, opening up and taking Pelle’s cock all the way to the base. The Swede’s mouth fell open in amazement at the girl’s eagerness to please. Her mouth was warm and wet and perfect.

Øystein idly rubbed his thumb over her clit and observed, fascinated at seeing the Swede taken so off guard. The girl’s mouth made filthy noises and Pelle keened lowly, his hand coming down on the back of her head as he bucked his hips up. The girl gagged loudly and pulled back, drooling and coughing into her fist.

Pelle grinned evilly.

“So fucking hot.” Øystein whined. He couldn’t take it anymore - he stood and peeled his shirt off before freeing his cock from the unbearably tight confines of his jeans.

He rubbed his throbbing head around on her red, swollen mouth.

“Look up at him,” Pelle whispered to her, “let him see those succubus eyes.”

The girl made eye contact with Øystein, her pink tongue darting out to give the head of his cock a few kitten licks. It was much thicker than Pelle’s and when her lips stretched fully around it, smearing corpse paint and blood red lipstick on his shaft, his knees went weak.

“Oh, fuck.” Øystein mewled. His hips twitched in an effort not to shove himself all the way down her snug little throat and fuck her until she lost consciousness.

But no, he knew he wanted to bury himself in her pussy. His cock throbbed at the thought.

He pulled out of her mouth before he got too excited. As he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and climbed on the bed, Pelle grabbed the bottom of the girl’s dress and tugged it up and off her, leaving her stark naked and exposed to the two men.

“Shouldn’t still be wearing fuckin’ clothes anyway…” the blonde murmured, shedding his shirt and leaning in to kiss and nip at her small breasts.

Øystein hoisted the girl’s legs up onto the bed and over his shoulders. He let his cock rest, hot and heavy on her stomach.

Kicking his jeans off the rest of the way, the vocalist positioned himself on the bed above the girl’s head. Her mouth opened, eager to be filled, and Pelle guided his cock into her warm, wet throat as gently as he could manage.

“God, you’re fucking wet.” Øystein purred, dragging his fat cock head up and down her slit to get it nice and slippery.

The girl’s hips canted towards him, silently begging him to penetrate her.

Pelle pulled out of her mouth and grabbed her face roughly.

“Use your words,” he growled, dark eyes burning into her, “beg him to fuck you.”

“Euronymous,” she whined shamelessly, panting with arousal, “I need you inside me. Please.”

Pelle sucked his teeth in annoyance, reaching down and hooking a finger into her cheek roughly to force eye contact again.

“That’s not what you call him, slampa.” He sneered down at her.

She cried out in pain so loudly that Øystein nearly called Pelle off - or he would have, if he couldn’t visibly see her pussy getting wetter.

“M-Master…!” she gasped, “please fuck me!”

“Well how the fuck could I say no to that?” Øystein cooed before pushing all the way into her in one rough motion.

The girl gasped and mewled like a kitten as Øystein set a brutal pace with his hips.

“Yeah? You like that, little succubus?” He grunted breathlessly. The room filled with the sound of wet flesh smacking together.

Pelle sat back and jerked off lazily, content to wait his turn and observe. Watching the guitarist fuck was truly something to behold. Firm and brutal yet somehow still loving and gentle, he seemed to know all the secret little spots that made girls squeal.

The girl looked so gorgeous and absolutely mindless, her pretty eyes full of tears and glazed over with lust. She reached for him desperately, seeking something to hold onto.

Pelle sneered at her “what, do you think I’m gonna hold your hand? Fuck you.” He spat, shoving his cock down her throat again.

Øystein chuckled and whispered to her, “don’t be offended, Sweetheart. Being sweet isn’t really Dead’s thing.”

Pelle made a noise of agreement as he began to fuck her throat.

“Her mouth is fuckin’ sinful, though. Good fucking god.” The blonde murmured.

The girl moaned and Øystein felt her cunt clench around him at the singer’s abuse. he increased his pace, feeling his orgasm approaching.

“Gonna cum inside you, baby…” Øystein groaned, thrusting into her a few more times before spilling his load inside her with a long, low groan.

“Did such a good job, Pretty Girl.” He said to her, reaching down to cup her chin while he pulled out.

“M’gonna cum too, little whore mouth is too fucking good…” Pelle mumbled. He pulled out of her mouth, stroking himself a few more times before he drenched her pretty face in spurts of hot cum.

The girl licked her lips prettily. She looked fucked out and angelic.

Pelle kissed her cheek with a softly whispered thank you before hastily pulling his clothes back on and disappearing from the room. Aftercare had never really been his thing - besides, Øystein was better at it anyway, he reasoned.

Øystein gently wiped the girls face clean with an old t-shirt before pressing a kiss to her forehead and laying down beside her.

“You can pass out here with me tonight if you want.” Øystein offered, snaking a hand around her waist.

“Besides, something tells me I’m going to want you again before the night is over.”

#lords of chaos #Rory Culkin smut #jack Kilmer smut #Rory Culkin #jack Kilmer

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 2 months

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<<Previous Chapter<<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

==================================

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Some bad habits are hard to break, and despite his best attempts to be kind, Izzy still manages to mess things up between you.

A/N: And we are back with the second chapter! Thank you for giving this fanfiction a chance. Every like and reblog means the world to me.

Content Warning: Self-depricating inner monologues, reference to the Kraken's torment and torture in Season 2, mutual pining and Izzy being a dick. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

=============================

It had to be noted that, the First Mate of the Revenge was indeed, a man of few words. And the few words that left his lips, were usually either a command or a curse. Though that was not quite strictly true when it came to addressing someone such as yourself. It had not gone unnoticed by the crew that, there was a certain softening of Izzy's tone, whenever he addressed you directly. His curses were said more in jest, than in true anger and there was something akin to fondness in his gaze, as he stared at you for longer than what was considered appropriate from a friend.

While some called Buttons a Sea Witch, perhaps it was you, who was the true magic wielder. Had you not ensnared the First Mate with your powers of compassion and competency? Though you sang no siren song like Swede, you had managed to captivate the mind and heart of the most austere person on the Revenge. If that were not the work of sorcery, then what else coukd it be?

Even now, as Izzy patrolled the deck, barking his usual commands and vulgar threats, there was no denying he kept glancing at the entrance to the hull, where you would be found within the ship's kitchen, helping Roach plan ahead for the upcoming storm.

"I mean look at him, the man's like a lovesick puppy." Lucius scoffed, as he watched the silver-haired pirate like a hawk, scrutinising over every movement and twitch with a level of surveillance that would put even the keenest-eyed night watcher to shame.

Cringing at the verbal observation, Oluwande dared to look in the general direction of the First Mate, whom had thankfully, not seemed to have paid attention to the scribe's declaration. "Sssh, Lucius. He'll hear you."

"Yeah, babe. I love you but you gotta keep your voice down." Pete agreed, taking the rope from his betrothed and making quick work of the shirked task, seeming happy enough to complete the work for them both.

Smirking at the horrified reactions, Lucius looked like a cat who had gotten the cream. Since his lover had taken charge of securing some nearby barrels, he took the opportunity to light himself a cigarette. "Good. I want him too because then, maybe if he does, he'll grow a pair of balls and actually do something about the situation."

"Have they seriously not confessed anything to each other yet?" Archie questioned, genuinely surprised that it had taken you both so long to finally couple up. In the same amount of time, she herself had managed to acquire two partners. Your dire situation did cause the pirate to question whetger or not you were absolutely useless when it came to the matter of love.

"Not according to (y/n), no."

"I wish they'd hurry up. I've got good money riding on them getting together before the next full moon." Wee John grumbled, as he carried a barrel passed the gossiping group. He had invested several coins into the outcome of your poorly-timed love life and by he'll or by high water, he was going to get a good return on his investment- even if it meant locking you and Izzy in the store cupboard himself. Hell, he'd shove you both into a burlap sack, if he thought it would boost his chances on winning the bet.

"You and me both." Archie scoffed.

He could hear them. Not clearly enough to make out what they were saying but enough to hear the sound of constant nattering. It was incessant, irritating. Like having tge constant buzz of a pesky wasp in you vicinity. Izzy longed for his days on the Queen Anne, where tge crew we focused on work, not idle chatter. Judging by the way that Lucius fellow kept glaring at him, the First Mate surmised that he was the topic of conversation. "Oi! You lot," he yelled, having finally reached the end of his patience. "I told you to prep the ship, not stand around gossiping like washer women!" leaning heavily against the railing, Izzy let out a string of curse words. Whilst not a religious man, he did ask whatever deity was listening, to give him strength and the will power to not throw someone overboard. "Fucking useless."

"Hey, Izzy."

He tensed at that familiar sound, that voice that never failed to stir something dark and wonderful within his soul. It brought to life a part of him he thought permanently dead. Turns out, it was just in a state of dormancy, waiting to be awakened at the right time. Or, at least of Izzy, the right person. "Aren't you supposed to be helping Roach lock down the pantry?" to an untrained ear, his lack of greeting might have sounded barbed and unwelcoming but you knew him better than that. The silver-haired pirate might have even gone so far as to say, you were the only one who knew him as well as himself.

The average person started a conversation with 'hello' but your dear Israel Hands was less conventional in his approach. "Yeah, we just finished. Oh, I brought you some tea. Thought you might appreciate it." you offered him one of the steaming cups of tea in yiur grasp. With a word of thanks, you both took a moment to savour the first sip, letting the warmth run through your veins and stave of tge slight chill in the air. "How's it going up here?"

"We'll be dead in the water come daybreak, if this lot don't do their fucking job right!" he all but screamed the final part of the sentence, easily earning himself a chorus of 'fuck off, Iggy' and 'we're doing our best here, dude!'

Your cheshire cat grin only grew, as you relished in the harmless feud between the crew and the First Mate. "Wow, that good, huh?" you teased, nudging Izzy with your elbow.

"Can you go down there and help 'em when you're finished with your tea? I need someone with half a braincell to check the sails are secured properly." he implored, pinching the bridge of his nose, as a migraine already started to form. Already feeling overwhelmed, the last thing Izzy needed was to add 'check the twats had correctly prepped the rigging' to his never-ending list of chores.

Sensing his palpable stress, you were quick to place a gentle hand on his shoulder in reassurance. Though public displays of affection were not common between you both, you speculated that since the pirate had not flinched but in fact, leaned into your touch, that he was comfortable with the gesture. "No problem, boss." his returned smile did not quite meet his eyes but a win was a win. You had at least eased Izzy of one burden. "How bad is the storm looking?"

When your hand eventually dropped from his arm, it took everything in Izzy's power to keep his voice steady, as he gave an answer to your question. Oh, how he longed to take your hand in his and place it back in his arm, so that he may feel your gentle warmth through the material of his shirt once more. "If Ed's calculations are correct, which they usually are, then...bad."

"Sounds like it'll be fun." you sighed, your attention now on the looming, dark grey clouds the besmirched the periwinkle skies with the promise of rain and turmoil.

While you were distracted by the landscape, Izzy was preoccupied by you. That was it, just you. There were not a multitude of opportunities in the day, where the First Mate had the chance to be this close to you. Where he could drink in your appearance, under the guise of merely being invested in your conversation. It felt wrong to him to be so infatuated with someone, who quite frankly, would never return his feelings but he was a starved man. Taking in every moment, every snippet of closeness he could get, until one day, your heart belonged to another.

Sometimes, he liked to delude himself and believe- just for a moment- that your kindness, your patience towards him, were all a hint towards you sharing his adoring sentiments. That perhaps, you could indeed fall for someone so wretched and broken as him.

The illusion never lasted long. Such fairytales of beauties falling so hopelessly in love with a beast were nothing but children's stories. The very same fairytales found in Stede's library, no doubt. And Izzy, well, Izzy was nothing if not a realist. He knew that you only tolerated him because you felt forever in his debt for saving your life. The silver-haired pirate had told you time and time again that you did not owe him anything but being as stubborn as you are, he doubted that you had paid him any mind. "Where are you staying tonight?" he asked, tone softer than he would have liked. Keeping up appearances around you was nearly impossible.

"I'm gonna bunk up with Oluwande, Jim, and Archie. They've got space on the floor of their cabin."

It was a relief, he mused, that at least you would be sleeping somewhere safe tonight, rather than in the communal space with the others. Still, Izzy could not help but wonder what it would be like, to offer you his own cabin to stay in. He would sleep on the floor, of course, he was a gentleman after all- well, that was debatable but he did possess some morals and understanding of social etiquette- and the last thing the pirate would want to do, was force you into an uncomfortable situation but no. Instead, he kept his yearnings to himself and responded in his usually curt manner. "That's good."

"What about you?" you asked, wondering if Izzy had plans on how he was going to ride out the storm. You assumed alone. Although, you felt a pang of jealously towards the non-existent crewmate, who may one day occupy the same living quarters as the man you were hopelessly besotted with. It was silly really, to feel resentment for someone who had not yet joined the team of misfit pirates and yet, it was inevitable that they would soon in the near future, waltz into Izzy's life and give him the love he most deserved. And as much as it pained you to accept your fate, you knew that could never be you.

"What about me?" he shrugged, unaware of your inner turmoil.

Correct, it could never be you who had the privilege to wake up beside him everyday or have the chsnce to call him yours. He would never see you as anything but some wounded creature he had saved from the brink of death. Certainly not worthy of courting the infamous Israel Hands. "Well-"

But before you could answer, Izzy caught sight of something. No, someone watching you both talk. Lucius. Fuck, he loathed that young man. He could not quite fathom what it was about the scribe that made his blood boil but just seeing him standing there, occasionally whispering something to Pete and smirking, as he cast a glance in your general direction, made Izzy see red.

Then it clicked. The oncoming storm. Of course. Those bastards. They knew of his past, thanks to Fang. No doubt they had told you the story too about how as a young sailor, he had not been able to keep down the contents of his stomach during a storm. Fuck, that nicknane too. You must have been revolted by him. Thought him completely and utterly pathetic. "-Look, whatever those twats have been saying, it's not true. I threw up one time-" Izzy began to defend himself, hoping it was not too late to salvage his reputation.

"-Oh, shit. No, I'm not referring to that. Fuck." you were quick to interrupt his rambling explanation. Sure, yeah, you knew the origin of his nickname, Izzy the Spewer but the story had not altered your opinion of the pirate. So, he threw up! Big deal. So had you during your first storm, and no one had bothered to call you, (y/n) the vomiter. "I just know that, storms bring up a lot of memories for some of the crew." you further explained, hoping he woukd catch the underlying meaning behind your words. "If you catch my drift?"

It took a moment but then a flicker of understanding sparked within Izzy's eyes, as he fully understand your insinuation. "Ah."

"Yeah." you smiled meekly, hoping not to trigger any unwanted memories for the pirate. All you wanted was to assure him that, if he needed comfort, you would be more than willing to provide him with comfort and company until the rain ceased and the skies became agate blue once more. "Will...will you be okay? Tonight, that is."

He knew, somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down, that your asking after his wellbeing was not an attack on his character, that you did not view him as weak for what had happened those many moon cycles ago, when the Kraken had stole him of his leg. This was your way of saying, "Hey, I'm here for you. If you need me", right?

Wrong. The poisonous voice of reasoning whispered in his ear, reminding him not to bet soft and be so sentimental. Of course you pitied him. How coukd you not? He was a disgrace. A washed up has been of a legend, who could no longer ride the coat tails of Blackbeard anymore. You were not offering him anything in the way of kindness, you were just reminding him of yet another mistake in his checkered past.

Before he could stop himself, the words left his lips and it was too late to take them back. "I'm not a fucking child, (y/n)." Izzy almost winced at how hurt you looked, as you flinched at his sudden outburst. Each time- and unfortunately, there had been more than one occasion- your pained expression left a lasting scar upon his heart. A fresh wound of regret that bled out over and over again. He did not mean to be this way with you. It was a defence mechanism, not that was much of an excuse really. Izzy should have- no, he did know- better. His sharp tongue was going to drive you away one day and he would only have hinsekf to blame. What's done was done.

There was nothing he could do, except keep up the charade and retire quickly from sight. He did not have to glance in the direction of the crew to know that they had all played witness to the entire exchange. No doubt he would have to sleep with one eye open tonight or maybe Roach would just spit in his food like last time. "Finish your tea and go fucking check the rigging. That's an order."

"Yes, boss." only minutes earlier, that nickname had been fondly used, now it just felt bitter to the taste.

Without another word, the First Mate abandoned your side and disappeared below deck.

Under the guise of work, your friends had been watching the entire exchange through side eye glances or in Lucius's case, just straight up staring.

Though idle hands appeared busy, Pete had in fact, tied the same knot several times. It was important to get everything secured ahead of the storm but in that moment, his mind was distracted. Casting a glance at the love of his life, his suspicions were confirmed, Lucius felt the same way as him- completely and utterly livid on your behalf. "Yeah, you ain't winning that money back, mate." he muttered to a frozen in rage Wee John, who merely stood holding another barrel, looking like he was contemplating throwing it at Izzy.

"Fucks sake, what a dickhead." he hissed, seemingly deciding against the idea, as he placed it with a resounding thud upon the deck.

Lucius could not stand to see you looking so hurt, as you stared longingly after the bastard who had dared upset you. The scribe knew he always teased you about your intense crush on the First Mate but it was during moments like these, where he really had to question what it was that made you so smitten with Izzy the Spewer. The man was volatile and about as pleasant as a cup of cold sick. Worst of all, this was not the first time he had stormed off after saying something cruel, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your hurt emotions. "I'm gonna go and see if they're okay."

"Maybe give it a moment, babe. Look." Pete urged his partner to take pause and watch you down your drink.

Despite wanting to abandon his post and assume the role of comforting friend, Lucius instead watched as you fought back tears and climbed the rigging, towards the crow's nest, no doubt seeking some privacy away from the watchful eyes of your friends.

"He really is the fucking worst. I genuinely do not get why (y/n) likes him so much." Archie mused, as she wondered if it was possible to find a snake at sea and put it in the bastard's bed?

With all the mysticism of a Sea Witch, the conversation was quickly intercepted by Buttons, whom decided to impart a great wisdom upon those in his vicinity. "'Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind. Therefore, is winged cupid painted blind?'"

There was a pause, as the gathered crew ruminated on his words. Well, partially ruminated. Most just sat there, looking confused or proverbially scratching their heads, unsure what to make of his revelation. Not one to admit his lack of knowledge, Lucius made a conscientious effort to nod his head and pretend he had understood the poet musings of the fellow pirate. "Right, yeah. What he said. Makes total sense."

=============================

A/N: Thank you for reading up until the end of the chapter! I look forward to updating you all with a new instalment soon. Before I go, can anyone guess where Buttons's quote comes from?

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estrogen-eater · 5 months

Note

I'm following more silly people and came across u, and lookinh at your dni list I read swerf as swede and I wondered what they did to you for a sec before i reread it

it says swerf?

#JOKING JOKING JOKING JOKING JOKING #RBS OFF BECAUSE I KNOW HOW PEOPLE ARE

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myhouse-pk3 · 1 year

Text

🫀 daniel + hjärta 18 he it xe swede-american. undead thing. aspiring forensic pathologist. #1 daniel matthews knower and truther. PFP BY @biillylenz ꩜

about ꩜ what i like ꩜ ask ꩜ archive ꩜ byf under the cut

basic dni go away if you like south park a lot, or if you like genshin flopact + omori. dont follow if 15 or younger; if i follow and you dont have your age listed and you are 15-, either lmk or sb me. nothing personal; you're allowed to come back once you're older (if you feel so inclined to)

#pinned #links likely wont work on mobile for some reason #so just add /about /byf /archive to myhouse-pk3.tumblr.com in your browser

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gggoldfinch · 2 years

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goldfinch’s • masterlist

MINORS DNI || DO NOT repost any of my content or posts to other social media platforms! I DO NOT consent to having AI used on any of my content!

call me finch, and welcome to my hellscape blog! below is where you’ll find the links and tags to all my important thingies (links may not always work, tumblr hates me).

AO3 LINK • KO-FI LINK

———————————————————————

Writing Links 🪦

all posts about my writing can also be found under the tag “#goldfinch writes” which is tagged below. additionally, all fanfic recommendations from other creators can be found under “#fic”

additionally, here is the the masterlist of “my favorite fics of all time” recommendations

🧷 The Umbrella Academy:

AO3: The Order of Death (The Swedes x OFC) REWRITE OF SOMETHING GOOD!!!

multi-chap ongoing; rewrite/ reimagining || canon-divergent fix-it || major warnings/ tags: violence, major character injury, PTSD, references to suicide & mental health, mutual pining, domestic fluff, polyamory

🧭fic playlist🧭

🧳teaser trailer webweave🧳

🐈ch 1-3 webweave🐈

🥛ch 4-6 webweave🥛

🍳ch 7-8 webweave🍳

🧷 Fallout (Prime):

AO3: From Eden (Cooper Howard “The Ghoul” x Reader/ OFC (can be read as either))

oneshot: 16,631 words ✅ || pre-canon || major warnings/ tags: dead dove: do not eat, canon typical cannibalism and violence and gore, horror, references to sexual assault by another character (doesn’t happen), chem use, radiation sickness, explicit sexual content, loss of virginity, rough sex, vaginal fingering & sex, praise kink, possessiveness, irradiated creampie, third person POV

🌾imgpost 🌾

edenghoul sketches

🧷 Ghost (the band):

AO3: I’ll Meet You at the Cemetery Gates (Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader (slightly OFC))

multi-chap ongoing || canon-divergent (ghost is not a band) || major warnings/ tags: meet cute, mutual pining, slow burn, friends to lovers, religious symbolism & imagery, eventual smut, unprotected piv, implied bullying & abuse, anxiety, angst

🥀 playlist post 🥀

⚠️ on temporary hiatus ⚠️

AO3: The Devil's Bow (Aether Ghoul x Fem!Reader)

oneshot: 8,675 words ✅ || canon-divergent (ghost is not a band) || major warnings/ tags: pwp, monsterfucking, explicit sexual content, loss of virginity, breeding kink, blood drinking, biting, praise kink, slight degradation, pet names, orgasm delay/ denial, religious imagery & symbolism

🧷 Fargo:

AO3: You're an Angel (I'm a Dog) (Ole Munch x Fem!Reader)

oneshot: 18,830 words ✅ || canon-divergent || major warnings/ tags: domestic fluff, family feels, love & forgiveness, religious & supernatural imagery, hurt/comfort, smoking, bathing, tension, explicit sexual content, enthusiastic consent, body worship, oral & vaginal sex

🧷 Star Wars:

AO3: Lonely Universe (Darth Maul x OFC)

multi-chap ongoing || semi canon divergent fix-it || major warnings/ tags: childhood trauma, hurt/ comfort, hurt no comfort, violence, force bond, eventual romance, eventual smut, unhealthy relationship (sort of), eventual unplanned pregnancy, WIP FIC!!!

💫playlist post💫

⚠️ on temporary hiatus ⚠️

🧷 Riddick (series):

AO3: Hatchetknife (Richard B. Riddick/ Original Female Character (or reader))

oneshot: 12,144 words ✅ || canon-divergent (sort of?) || major warnings/ tags: possibly a little ooc, very brief discussion of SA (non-threatening), minor violence & injury, explicit language, forced proximity, only one bed, explicit sexual content, smut, oral sex, praise kink, scent kink, size kink, light choking, biting

tumblr link

🧷 Stranger Things:

AO3: Cherry Kisses (Alexei “Smirnoff” x GN!Reader)

oneshot: 2,854 words ✅ || post s3 fix-it || major warnings/ tags: angst & fluff, first kiss, friends to lovers, mildly spicy, references to past injury/ recovery

tumblr link

🧷 Dune:

AO3: Nearly Fine (Book!Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x GN!Reader)

oneshot; 1,374 words ✅ || during-canon || major warnings/ tags: written pre-2023 movie, angst & fluff, vague references to sex & violence, existentialism, THE FIRST FEYD/READER ON TUMBLR & AO3 LMAO

tumblr link

———————————————————————

Art Links ⛓️

all my posts about my art also be found under the tag “#goldfinch draws” which is tagged below

🧷 Misc:

Meet the artist

🧷 The Umbrella Academy:

Milkman

Bros

Working for the Knife

Fic sketch

Sybil oc

Smile

🧷 Ghost (the band):

Red suit Copia

Leyendecker study (sort of)

Terzo sketches

Self insert silly business

Popia sketches

Mike Mignola inspo

Copia & RZK

Aether

🧷 Transformers:

Human!Starscream portrait (tfp)

Human!Starscream uniform (tfp)

oc art + info

🧷 Star Wars:

Ermine oc

🧷 Fargo:

Ole Munch

#goldfinch writes #fic #goldfinch draws #goldfinch’s music #goldfinch’s gifs #cemetery gates fic #lonely universe fic #something good fic #order of death fic

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cheddar-baby · 2 years

Text

whos gonna be the first to add swedes dni to their bio?

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thecoffeelorian · 10 months

Text

Axel: And what do we do when we want to be somebody’s friend?

Otto: We stare at them.

Axel: No, no, we don’t stare, we introduce ourselves.

Otto: Then we make a weird noise and run away.

Axel: No, no, we stay right where we are, and we say, “Hey, what is your name?’

Otto: And then we stare at them without blinking.

Axel: What? No!

(based off of this Tiktok! thank you for reading!)

#the umbrella academy #tua incorrect quotes #tua the swedes #the ikea mafia #random interest check #tua axel #tua otto #18+ account #18+ to follow me #minors DNI.

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lxmbert · 4 years

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the way Axel leaves those three buttons unbuttoned on his shirt with that vest/duster combo......he knows exactly what hes doin......

.........slut.....😒

#the swedes #axel the swede #the umbrella academy #tua netflix #its a good look #and im lookin #minors dni

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matsbarzal · 3 years

Note

can I please request nsfw 14 with Jacob Markstrom?

nsfw 14. "seeing you with their baby... god the things it did to me."

pairing: jacob markstrom x fem!reader word count: 1.5k warning: minors DNI, 18+, nsfw, smut, bit of a breeding kink if you squint

Jacob knew he was screwed the moment he watched Gio’s wife place their baby in your arms. Jacob knew he was doomed when he watched her wrap her small fist around your index finger, eager to hold on for as long as she could.

You had spent a large duration of the evening with her cuddled into your chest, weaving your way in and out of the groupings of people as she held on. Jacob had found himself peering at you every chance he could get, watching as you interacted with people, helped set up things and held the baby in your arms simultaneously. To put it into words, he couldn’t keep his eyes or his mind off you the entire night.

When the party was finally dwindling down and people were slowly showing themselves out, he was quick to find you handing the baby off, a small peck to her head and a tiny tickle to her arm. He said a quick goodbye to all the teammates he could find before placing his hand at the bottom of your back, directing you towards the car he had parked hours before.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Nodding your head towards him, you smiled brightly as you reminisced on your night.

“Wouldn’t have spent it any differently. Sad when I realized it was probably Gio and Laur’s goodbye party, especially with the draft coming up, but guess we’ll find out.”

Pursuing his lips slightly at your words, Jacob hummed as he focused on the road in front of him. He still couldn’t get the picture of you holding Gio and Lauren’s baby out of his head, his knuckles turning white as he gripped onto the steering wheel, the speed of the car picking up the closer and closer the two of you got to your home.

It wasn’t that the topic of kids hadn’t come up in the past year, far from it, the topic had come up more than once, the two of you agreeing that it would happen when it happened. You weren’t actively trying to prevent it, but you also weren’t consistently trying to make it a reality, and Jacob didn’t realize how much he wanted that life for the both of you until tonight.

You could see the stiffness in your boyfriend’s arms, the white of his knuckles and the sternness of his face as he finally pulled into your driveway, a look of concern crossing your face as you observed him.

“Everything okay?”

Humming, Jacob nodded his head as he tried to loosen the tenseness in his body, a serene smile crossing his face as he looked over at you. “Course, just ready to get inside.”

Nodding your head in understanding, you followed his lead as he made his way out of the car and towards the garage of your home. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt him pull your body flush against his, a hungry look evident in his eyes.

“Seeing you with their baby… God the things it did to me,” groaning as he nuzzled your neck, peppering it with little kisses and small bites. You felt the butterflies instantly erupt inside of you as Jacob eagerly pushed his thigh in between yours.

“Oh really?” Humming in confirmation, he continued his assault on your neck, his hands pushing up the sides of your shirt as he gently began to knead the skin, slowly making his way further up.

“Why don’t we go make one of our own then, hm?”

Pulling back from you almost instantaneously, Jacob gave you a look of confusion before a small smirk begin to take over his lips at the seriousness of your face and the comment you had just dropped. Before you even had time to think, he was grabbing your arm and pulling you up the stairs and towards your bedroom.

The moment the door shut behind you, your back was pressed against it and Jacob’s lips were on yours, hungrily swallowing every moan and groan you made into his mouth as his thigh once again slotted in between yours. You could feel your body grinding down against him, his thigh moving slowly back and forth, urging you to press down and grind against it.

Your hands were in his hair, lightly tugging on the ends as Jacob slowly peppered kisses down your chin, to your neck and eventually to the valley in between your breasts. He made quick work of your shirt and bra, his hands instantly cupping them as his lips continued to press kisses down.

He barely gave you a moment to think before his hands were moving and his mouth was replacing their previous spot, his lips wrapping around your nipple as his tongue gently flicked back and forth. His now free hands slowly caressed down your stomach, effortlessly popping the button and tugging the pants down your legs.

Quickly kicking them off, Jacob moved his head so that his lips could wrap around the opposite nipple as his fingers snaked their way to the apex of your thighs. An evident grin crossing his face at your reaction, your body bucking towards the feeling of his fingers gently pushing your panties to the side and sliding a digit through your folds.

“Oh, someone’s a little wet, hm? Didn’t take long to get you all hot and bothered, baby,” quirking an eyebrow towards him, you moved your own hand to gently palm at the obvious tent in his shorts, a large smirk crossing your face.

“You’re one to talk, baby.”

Rolling his eyes, Jacob barely gave you a moment to breath before he was dropping down to his knees, one of your legs instantly thrown over his shoulder as he pushed your panties completely to the side. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds had you groaning, and the first touch of his tongue to your clit had you gripping his hair in your hands, trying to push him even closer.

Jacob obviously got the memo.

Pushing a digit into you, his tongue eagerly began its repetitive motions against your clit in rhythm with the finger that was pumping in and out of you. His tongue flicked against you, his lips eagerly pressing against your folds as he lapped at your pussy, the small groans falling from his lips sending instant shivers up your spine and pushing you closer and closer to that peak that you knew was coming.

Jacob knew you were getting close, the tighter and tighter you gripped his hair an obvious indication of how close you were getting. The orgasm ripped out of you, your body shaking as he attempted to hold it in place against the door and continue his ministrations until you came down from your high.

Pulling back from you, the Swede placed a gentle kiss against your pelvis as he moved up, a large grin on his face. He basically tossed you on the bed, his hands making quick work of his shirt and shorts as he crawled on the bed behind you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

“You ready to make a baby, pretty girl? Want me to finally put a baby in you, hm?”

All you could do was nod at his words, the euphoria from your orgasm just minutes before still taking over your head.

“Please, baby. Please fuck me, please.”

Obliging, he pushed your legs open and slowly pressed the tip of his cock to your clit, running his member through your folds as he attempted to coat himself in your wetness. Pressing himself to the front of you hole, you both groaned as he pushed himself all the way in. His lips met yours in a heated kiss as his lower body began to move, not wanting to waste any time or effort.

Every pump, every push, every thrust had you groaning into his mouth, your nails eagerly pressing into his back as the man above you moaned.

“Gonna make you all mine, pretty girl. Give you everything I have ta’ give,” his thrusts were becoming more erratic the quicker his pace picked up, the groans falling into your lips as your tongues battled for dominance.

You felt his body stutter, his pelvis pressing against yours as a long-winded groan fell from his lips, his fists digging into the sheets behind your head as he rode his high down. You felt his body slowly deflate as he allowed his weight to lightly drop on top of you, his head pressed against the pillow beside yours as he tried to regain his breath.

Jacob stayed like that for a moment before moving, his cock slipping out of you as he gently flopped himself down beside you, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the box of tissues so he could help clean you up.

“Think that one’s gonna do the trick?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you just smiled as you gently weaved your hands through his hair while he cleaned up between your thighs.

“Even if it wasn’t, we can keep tryin’.”

note: i truly could not stop thinking about this one so i HAD to write it. marky could do whatever he wanted to me whenever he wanted so <3 hope you enjoy!! thank you for sending one in <3 this all ended up a lil longer than a blurb but w/e

#jacob markstrom #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl drabble #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey blurb #hockey drabble #hockey imagine #jacob markstrom x reader #jacob markstrom fic #jacob markstrom blurb #hockey writing #nhl writing #jacob markstrom imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #minors dni

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