Latest Posts by ssunny-side - Page 2

vessel be like "you got me in a chokehold". yeah, no shit bro. you got the most prettiest throat ever

Call Of Duty Audio Smut!

I realised I have not kept up with G W A reddit for a while and what has been going on? More Ghost, some König and Soap too! So here’s for your enjoyment :3 I have included both link to the post on G W A and straight to audio, since not everyone has Reddit, but please go give the artists some praise and comments if you like the audio! All audios are M4F, so male voices for female listeners. Have fun (as long as you’re an adult, MDNI!)

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Caught by Ghost by Badjhur (audio) (Mdom, dubcon)

Zero Hour by Badjhur (audio) (Mdom, squadmates to lovers)

Ghosting the Party by Badjhur (audio) (Mdom, interrogation)

Testing the Perimeter by Badjhur (audio) (Mdom, squadmates to lovers)

Only a Specialist’s Touch by Badjhur (audio) (Mdom, keep quiet, squadmates to lovers)

Training a Military Brat by Badjhur (audio) (Mdom, brat taming duh)

Clouded Conscience by Badjhur (audio) (Mdom, friends to lovers)

Lesson in Biochemistry by Badjhur (audio) (Mdom, sex pollen, dubcon)

Ghostly Comfort by  AmbroseKincaidVA (audio) (Mdom, comfort sex)

König

Doktor’s Orders by Badjhur (audio) (Msub König, established relationship)

Trapped in a cave? How about I touch you down there? by gehwild (audio) (Msub, size kink)

Taking Care of König by gehwild (audio) (Msub)

John “Soap” MacTavish

Coming Clean by touchshriek (audio) (Mdom, enemies to lovers, manhandling outdoor sex)

Late Hours by ScotsLibrarian (audio) (Mdom, interrogation)

Dyin' for a Taste

Day 11:  Face Sitting (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Idiots in love; pining; smut (oral, f!receiving); 18+ only.

Word Count:  4096

AN:  This was requested by an anonymous person!

AN2: When I say this is not edited, please know it is NOT EDITED. Full of typos and sloppy typing. Tropes is a fat-fingered old crone.

It starts with a joke.

The 141 is on a covert ops in the mountains.  It’s cold—the sort of cold that burns, that makes the bones ache.  You’re posted up in a perch, your sniper’s rifle at the ready if shit goes south.  The rest of the team is in the square below, waiting for the drop.

“My bollacks are gonna freeze off,” Soap complains over the comms, and you snort at the whining tone in his soft Scottish brogue. 

“Shoulda dressed for the weather,” you reply.  “Ghost probably has a spare balaclava.”

“And cover this handsome face?”

“Won’t be so handsome when your nose turns black from frostbite.”

You hear the tsch noise he makes over the comms, the very Soap, very Scottish noise of dismissal. 

“You’ll have to sit on my face then, hen, and warm me back up,” he says.

You’re rarely stunned into silence—you and the guys are always making off-color jokes—but when you open your mouth to reply, you only gape wordlessly.  The silence over the comms grows, expands, until Gaz—fucking Gaz—chimes in.

“I think she’s into the idea, bruv.”

And you can’t respond to that fast enough either, which leaves another long beat of silence over the comms, which likely seems like enough of an answer.

-----

The mission goes smoothly.  The team splits up as planned to avoid drawing attention.  You don’t see Soap again until a few days later when you regroup at HQ.

You think, perhaps, that he’s forgotten.  Maybe that’d be better.  You and Soap get along well, and sometimes he flirts with you, but he flirts with everyone.  It means nothing. 

And yet…

And yet, it’s Soap.  You might be able to lie to others, but you can’t lie to yourself:  you’ve spent many a lonely night with your thoughts drifting to him.  Turning him over and over in your mind. 

Soap MacTavish.  Handsome, almost unbearably so.  He could be a cocky asshole, be the sort of man who knows he’s hot and be insufferable about it, but he’s gregarious.  Friendly.  He’s a happy-go-lucky sort of man—or as much as someone in the One-Four-One can be.

-----

“Been avoiding me.”

It’s a statement, not a question.  Soap corners you in the mess hall, his blue eyes peering at you without guile.  He looks almost concerned.

“I haven’t,” you reply.  You try to shift past him, but he puts a hand out against the doorway, bars you with his arm.

“You have.”  He peers at you closer, his blue eyes somber.  “What’s wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong?”

You thought, perhaps, that he’d forgotten…but those somber eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, then smooth out as he schools his expression.

“Maybe you think my offer was wrong,” he says.

“I never said that.”  You duck under his arm, but he lays his hand on your shoulder and stills you again.

“You’ve never said anything about it.”  You don’t look at him, but you hear his gentle snort of laughter.  “Your silence is deafening.”

You feel your face start to heat up because he’s not wrong.  Too much time has passed now to address that moment in the mountains.  You should have said something then, spat out some rejoinder to signal that it meant nothing to you, that it was just another dumb joke between you and Soap.  But something about that dumb joke conjures up the mental image of you and Soap, and your face burns in embarrassment.

So you duck from his light grip on your shoulder and it makes him laugh again, then call out to your retreating form, “the offer still stands, hen.”

-----

A month passes, then another.  You get leave for a few weeks and go someplace warm, a beach with golden sand and soft breezes where you can relax and forget the horrors of what you see every day.

Then you’re back on base, then another mission.  Over and over, the same routine.

Through it all:  Soap MacTavish, the team’s Golden Retriever.  Always with an easy grin on his handsome face, a laugh, a joke.  He teases Ghost, he does a passable impression of Captain Price.  He gives Gaz a hard time about their rival rugby teams, but it’s always good-natured. 

He jokes with you, but that joke—the one about sitting on his face—becomes just a joke between the two of you.  You don’t know if the other men have forgotten it, but Soap only brings it up when you’re alone now.

At the barracks, in the rec room, he’s sprawled out on the couch and half-dozing, half-watching a rugby match.  When you walk past, he notices, sits up.  Beckons you over, tells you to have a seat…then thoughtfully strokes his face with that damned smirk and comically waggling eyebrows.

“You’re a jackass,” you call out as you leave the room, but by now, it makes you laugh…and it lightly stokes that ever-burning flame low in your belly.

-----

Another time, he sidles up to you at the range as you study your targets with their tight formation of bullet holes.  He points out one shot, high in the corner of the paper, off of the concentric circles of the bullseye.

“Missed one,” he says.

You scoff.  “One out of….many.”

He matches your scoff with one of his own.  “Might be losing your edge.”

“I’m not.”  You know he’s winding you up, but that missed shot galls you. 

“Maybe you’re stressed out.”

You set the target down on the wooden railing.  “Maybe you’re stressing me out, MacTavish.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.  His blue eyes light up in glee, and he only gets out the first part of his retort—You know what’s good for de-stressing—before you drop to one knee and start disassembling your sniper rifle, ducking your head and hiding your burning cheeks from him.

“…nothing wrong with it,” he finishes as you shut the rifle’s case, and you realize you’ve missed part of what he’s said.

“There isn’t,” you agree.  You stand up and lean a bit on the courage that sees you through each mission.  You look him square in the eye and add, “but you’re just flirting.”

He gazes back at you, a soft smile on his face, only a little teasing.  “Not just flirting.”

“Sure.”  You roll your eyes.

He makes his Soap-branded tsch sound, then he loops his arm around your shoulders to pull you in close.  He smells like…well, he smells like soap, clean with a hint of something herbal.  It’s nothing he hasn’t done a hundred times—in safe houses after a mission, walking out of a bar on a night out with the team—that companionable way he pulls you against him.

“It makes me sad when you don’t believe me, hen,” he chuckles, and it’s low, right by your ear, his warm breath fanning over you. 

You’re not sure what spurs your next move.  You’re a natural-born sniper; you take the measure of everything around you—the curve of the earth, the speed and direction of the wind—before you squeeze your trigger.  You’re the same with people, cautious and feeling out every angle of their intentions before you make a move.  But you know Soap, and the question around his joke is the only uncertainty.

Something makes you act without much thought.  Your rifle case in your hand, your other hand tucked in your pocket, and Soap’s arm slung around your shoulders…the moment is crystalized, will be an easy memory to recall in the years to come because this is when everything between the two of you changes.

“You know what?” you ask, and you don’t allow him to hazard a guess.  Instead, you gaze at him levelly, straight into those bright blue eyes of his and add, “alright, let’s do this.”

It’s comical, how the smile drops from his face, how his mouth makes a little “oh” of surprise.  His eyes scan your face, quick, like he’s trying to find the joke, trying to find proof you’re just having a laugh at his expense.

“Bonnie,” he starts to say, and his voice has a rough edge to it.  His voice is missing its usual teasing edge, and he pauses to study you.  You don’t know if he realizes it, but the tip of his tongue darts out, licks against his lower lip, like he’s really thinking of it now that it could be a reality.

“Bonnie, are you just…are ye fer real?”  His voice is lower and his accent gets thicker, and it sets a frisson of heat shimmering through your lower belly.

You refuse to blink.  Refuse to look away.  “I’m for real if you are.”

“I was never joking about that.”

“Then I’m not joking either.”  You swing your rifle case towards the barracks, playing at bravery but willing the fluttery feeling in your stomach to calm.  “So let’s go.”

Soap—gregarious, convivial Soap—says nothing else on the walk back.  He keeps his arm around your shoulders, though, and his hand settles against your bicep, rubs you briskly before gently holding you there, like he’s proving to himself that you’re real, that the moment is really happening.

-----

Your nerve wobbles a little when you get back to quarters.  Soap’s nerves must have a similar wobble, because he turns to you and his usual boyish grin is gone, replaced by a grave expression.

“You dinnae have to do this,” he says, “if you don’t want to.”

Part of you wants to back out, chuck him in the arm and say it was just a joke.  You could still back out.  Soap is flirty and gregarious, but hooking up would irrevocably change your easy relationship with him.  It could change the tenor of the team.  And yet…

…don’t you both face death every day?  Don’t you see the absolute worst of humanity?  Don’t your bodies bear the scars of your hard, unrelenting lives—countless scars, visible and invisible both?  Don’t you all operate in your own bubbles of loneliness, sleeping alone night after night but crowded out by the ghosts you all haul around?

Is it too much to ask for even a moment of connection, of not feeling alone?

You gaze back at him.  Sweet Johnny MacTavish.  Handsome but not vain, smart but not aloof, funny without being cruel about his teasing.  Is there anyone you’d rather be with?

“I want to do this,” you tell him, and there’s no hesitation in your tone.  “If you do.  If you really were just joking around, then no harm, Johnny.”

His somber gaze softens at your use of his real name.  “Wasn’t joking at all.”  Then he opens the door to his quarters and turns to you, invites you in with a sweep of his hand, and when you walk past him, he lays his palm on your lower back to guide you.

-----

In truth, you’ve never actually sat on anyone’s face.  It’s one of those funny sex acts that you joke around about but have never gotten around to, like sixty-nine (always seemed more complicated than necessary) or food-play (always seemed too messy). 

Soap, it turns out, has never actually had his face sat on.

And it’s adorable, how he sheepishly runs his hand through the longer stripe of his short-shorn hair and admits as much.

“Figured it cannae be that complicated though,” he says.  He huffs out a breath, and you realize how nervous he must be, and it gives you courage to take charge.

“Kiss me first.  Then we can figure it out from there.”

The tame command makes his face light up and he murmurs, “yes, ma’am” in his brogue, and then he does as you say.

If Soap MacTavish is generally the team’s Golden Retriever, bouncing around with a wagging tail, he kisses with far more finesse.  He cups your face gently, reverently and leans forward, brushes the lightest of kisses against your lips like he’s testing the waters.  Like he’s waiting for you to pull away, and when you don’t, he kisses you again.

It’s awkward at first, but only because you’re both so tentative.  It’s uncharted territory.  He must be aware that you’re crossing a line in doing this, you think, and he must not care either.  But the awkwardness melts away quickly because Soap is a damned good kisser, skilled in how he moves his mouth against yours, his tongue against yours.  One of his hands stays on your face, cupping you gently and steering you, but the other hand touches your waist, your hip, slides around to squeeze your ass gently before returning to the dip of your waist.

He tastes like something warm and spicy, like cinnamon or nutmeg.  Everything about him is warm, really:  the way he cups your face but runs his thumb over your cheekbone, the way his other hand holds you steady as he kisses you.  And the way he looks at you when he breaks the kiss, the almost-shy way he tugs at the hem of your shirt and asks if he can take it off.

He’s warm too—his body, his skin as you bare it with each article of clothing shed.  You strip each other in tandem, and the sight of him leaves you breathless.  He’s like something carved by a Renaissance sculptor, but when you smooth your palms over the dips and swells of his muscles, you find that he’s warm to the touch, wonderfully so, and a wave of lust almost takes you out at the knees by how much you want to feel his body against yours, under you or on top of you, every inch of you pressed against him.

Soap must feel the same way about you—he touches you just as gently as before, almost reverent, but his goddamned eyes practically shine when he looks at you, then groans out, “fuck, but you’re stunning, hen.”

He maneuvers you both towards the bed, and then he stretches out across it, and this is precisely why your sexual repertoire has always been lacking:  when a brutally handsome man is stretched out in front of you like a damned buffet, your mind singularly focuses on one thing, and you rarely remember that there’s other, more adventuresome things you could do.

You’re already turned on.  Ever since the two of you walked back from the range, you’ve been on a low simmer of lust, and the desire has ratcheted up with each kiss, with each little grumbling groan of Soap’s, with each sweep of his big warm hands along your body.

So you’re already turned on, so why sit on his face when his beautiful cock—perfectly sized for you, the ruddy tip already leaking precum—is also an option?

And Soap is no dummy.  He must guess at your internal battle because he says your name softly, pulls your gaze back to his face where he smiles that brilliant Soap-smile at you.

“Alright then?” he asks.  He pats his upper chest.  “You can sit right here, to start.”

It hits you all at once how intimate this is.  Fucking, hooking up—that’s one thing.  But sitting on your teammate’s face feels like you’re taking a further step into the unknown.  Oral sex, to you, is already more intimate than regular ol’ intercourse, but sitting on his face feels…even more intimate.  There’s a lot of trust on both ends:  he has to trust you not to hurt him, not to put too much weight or force on his face or neck.  And you have to trust him too, since you’re basically smothering him you with your pussy, and many men are precious little babies about eating pussy.

“I could just…”  You trail off and gesture vaguely at where his erection strains and bobs against his belly, and Soap snorts before he replies, “we could do both, hen.”

When you don’t say anything, when you don’t move, he adds, “c’mon, sweet girl.  I’m dyin’ for a taste of ye.”

The accent is unfair, you decide.  The accent is not fighting fair.  Soap’s Scottish brogue is charming in the best of times, but his bedroom version is thicker, at a slightly lower register, and it’s entirely unfair.  It easily dismantles the rest of your meager defenses, so you nod and then kneel on the bed.  But when you start to awkwardly clamor on top of him, he stills you for a beat and taps his mouth, says, “give me a kiss first.”

And the kiss is unfair too because it reminds you that it’s just Soap, one of your dearest teammates, a man who often holds your life in his hands and whose life you hold in your own.  His now-familiar taste of spicy warmth on your tongue, and his lips curving in a smile against yours when he whispers, “climb on up, hen  Don’t keep me waitin’ anymore.”

There’s no sexy way to climb on top of him.  Do you just kneel by his chest and throw a leg over him?  Do you straddle him lower and scoot up?  You split the difference, try to straddle him on his lower chest and scoot up, but then his one arm gets pinned.  Any other man?  It might be a deal-breaker being so clumsy, but Soap laughs underneath you—a genuine belly-laugh full of warmth that makes you giggle too.  He wrangles his arm free, then lays both hands on your hips and guides you the rest of the way.

This is unbearable intimate too, being so exposed to his bright blue-eyed gaze. You probably have tons of issues around previous men who didn’t eat pussy, who were grossed out by it, but Soap’s eyes practically glitter black with how blown his pupils are.  His face rarely hides its emotions very well (he’s a shitty poker player), and there’s no disgust in his expression at all.  There’s only desire, naked and apparent.

“Tell me,” he says, and his voice is a low growl that sends that frisson of heat straight to your core.  “Tell me what is working for you, yeah?  Don’t go quiet on me.”

You nod, and you wish you could think of something cool or funny to say, but Soap lifts his head a little and presses a plush, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, where both are splayed in front of him, and before you can even beat yourself up for failing to think of something cool or funny, his mouth is on you in earnest.

Soap, a damned good kisser.  It translates to this, his skilled tongue and lips licking at you, suckling at you, swirling against you before he breaks up the pattern with an outright kiss, then resumes his routine.  He traces the tip of his tongue around the firm bud of your clit, the perfect amount of pressure before he snakes it lower, lapping at the arousal leaking from your entrance.  He’s unabashed about it, groans against your feverish skin, and you love him in this moment—love that he wasn’t joking after all, love that he had led you here, where you sit perched on him while he feasts on your cunt and seems to genuinely enjoy it as he does. 

Any other position, you’d lean down and kiss him, or pull him to you and kiss him.  Now, as he groans against you again, you reach down and run your fingers through the longer stripe in his hair.  He must like that, because he groans a third time, and his grip on your hips spasms tighter.

You remember what he asked of you, so when he purses his lips and suckles against your clit, you gasp out a startled “oh!” but then add, “fuck, Johnny.  Just like t-that.”

“Good?”  It comes out muffled against you, and he pauses his mouth long enough to gaze up at you with a smile.

“So good.”  You shift your hand, cup his stubbled chin slick with your arousal—a gentle movement that makes his smile soften too. 

“Like when you call me Johnny, hen.”  Now he sounds a little shy, like he’s edging close to something beyond a random hookup with face-sitting.

“Keep using your mouth like that and I’ll call you Johnny all the time,” you tease.

“Deal.”  And then he’s on you again, laving your sensitive folds with his tongue, his bit of stubble raising a warm burn against your inner thighs.  His hands on your hips pull you closer, and he encourages the slow, careful rhythm when you start to actually ride his face—a languid back-and-forth, mindful of his need for oxygen, while he eats your pussy with the fervor of a starving man.

Your orgasm approaches faster than you thought; you thought you might have to fake it, since you rarely come from oral alone.  But there’s something about this position.  You feel powerful in a benign way, in charge, but mindful of the man underneath you.  You run your fingers through his hair and Soap preens at the touch, just as he preens when you pant out praise for him, tell him how good you feel. How good he is making you feel.

He must sense it because his grip tightens on your hips, but his tongue moves faster and focuses solely on your clit—teasing with the tip of his tongue, then laving it with the flat of his tongue, then wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

“F-fuck,” you choke out.  “Johnny…fuck…I’m gonna…” but you don’t finish the sentence, you keen out a garble of nonsense as you come.

The heat in your belly pools over, spills over in a brilliant wash that courses through your veins, into your trembling legs and up through your body, makes your vision shimmer and crackle with sparks.  Your heartbeat, your panting breath are loud in your own ears, and you hear Soap groan but he sounds faraway.  He teases your orgasm, prolongs it by licking against you until you grip his hair tighter and hold his head still while you clumsily dismount, then flop gracelessly onto the bed beside him.

You feel boneless.  You feel heavy, sleepy, like you could sink into the mattress and sleep for days.  You close your eyes and feel the bed shift, and Soap disappears for a moment.  You hear running water—he must be cleaning his face, you think—but then the mattress dips again and he’s curling his warm body around yours, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you to him, then settles the blanket over both of you.

“Good, yeah?”

You laugh.  “Yeah, that was good.  Especially for someone who’s never done it before.”  A beat.  “Give me a moment to catch my breath and then I can help you out.”

Soap chuckles above you, and you feel him press his lips to your forehead before settling again.  “No need.”

“But I—”

“Already came.”

The gears in your head turn slow when you’re sated from sex.  Coming makes you stupid.  “Huh?  When?”

Another chuckle, another kiss to your head.  “When I was eating you, hen.”

You turn your head and try to peer up at him.  He looks comfortable and sleepy too, content and sated.  “Seriously?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Told ye I was dyin’ for a taste.”  He shifts a little, pulls you closer to him.  He tugs the blanket more securely around your shoulders.  “If ye want a second round, I’ll need a few minutes.”

You appraise the situation:  the warm scent of Soap, the feel of his naked body pressed to yours, the warm little cocoon he’s created here in his bed.  Of course you want a second round, but you’re sleepy too, and the thought of sleeping with Soap doesn’t seem nearly as terrifying as it might have seemed before he had his mouth on your pussy.

“Or we could sleep,” you offer.

“Sleep,” he agrees.  “Round two tomorrow.”

The doubts from earlier start to surface in your mind, but they seem tiny and inconsequential when you’re wrapped up in Soap’s arms.  You feel sleep tugging at you—he’s already asleep, you think, breathing deep and even against you—so you chance to brush your lips against the bit of him you can reach and whisper good night to him.

But he’s not quite completely asleep yet because he kisses you back, another press of his lips against your head, and he whispers back, “g’night, hen.”

Somebody’s Watching Me Masterlist

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her)

Sarge and Simon’s story.

Individual warnings can be found in each chapter along with word counts, A/Ns and summaries.

This story can pretty much be described as a slow burn coworkers to friends to lovers/idiots in love story with a grumpy x sunshine dynamic. There’s fluff, there’s angst, there’s smut, there’s whatever. 18+ chapters marked with **

Enjoy reading Sarge and Simon’s story!

Part 1

You sense someone following you after returning home from active duty.

Part 2

On a night out with your friends, you’re pleasantly surprised to run into your secret observer.

Part 3

There’s another run in with your lieutenant and secret observer at the last place you expected to see him.

Part 4

Your lieutenant acts as your awkward date to a Christmas party held by your friends.

Part 5

Your friendship with Simon begins to blossom even further as you hang out alone for the holiday period.

Part 6

The New Year brings new emotions and spending time together becomes unbearable as you cannot ignore your feelings any longer.

Part 7**

You and Simon take the next step towards happiness.

Part 8**

A slice of heaven is created as you get a glimpse at what could be.

Part 9

Good things can’t last forever.

Part 10

Tensions arise when a secret is revealed.

Part 11

Feelings are finally revealed in the face of mortal danger. Some good, some bad.

Part 12

Can the two of you fix the damage that has been done? Or is it too late?

Epilogue

Five years later.

Deleted Scenes:

Tea For Two

Halloween

Extras:

Their playlist

Pinterest board

Cover

Random Simon things

Stats

just some bloke…

yearbook photo 📷

tired.

guys i’m sure this is gonna be hard to believe but… I LOVE HIM!!!🤍

In the Dark - Jake Kiszka

Looking for a little relief.

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI, mild somno (?), masturbating with someone present, mild grinding, fingering, nipples: out, nipples: in mouths.

Pairing: Jake x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Keep reading

Anything For You - chapter 17 part 2

Word count: 10k (bro??)

Warnings: smut. Smut. Smut. Smut. Graphic detail. Oral (f&m), piv, unprotected sex (like that shocks anyone), other stuff but yeah. Language.

AN: thank you for your patience as I’ve taken so long with this. I hope you enjoy ◡̈ I decided last minute to cut this chapter short. thought I’d give you something nice and wait on the not nice.

Masterlist

The hotel room could have been heaven itself and you wouldn’t have noticed, nervous energy flooding your veins as you sit on the edge of the massive bed. Well, not nervous energy per se. Actually, it was hard to identify. Some kind of energy that made it an impossible task to unlace your boots or take off your dress or do anything to make yourself more comfortable once you got to the hotel after the show. Some kind of energy that filled you with warmth so radiant and golden your vision actually spun. Maybe that part wasn’t great but still.

Jake was whisked away to B stage and you didn’t get a moment with him after that. You could say “not for lack of trying” but that would be a lie; you made no effort to stop the rockstar who loved you as he did his magic. Really, you just watched him in a stupid daze and tried to pull rational thoughts out of the spun sugar your brain had turned into once he said those words.

I love you, Y/N.

Alone in the hotel room, the thought makes you blow a heavy breath through pursed lips and shake whatever that energy is from your hands - like that was possible.

You stand and wander the room, trying to ground yourself in some way. Balcony. Brick fireplace. Huge, floor-length mirror. Vanity that could honestly be worth the value of your car. Bed that must be a California king. Or not. You’ve never owned anything bigger than a full. It was just huge.

Oh fuck. Sex with Jake.

Jake. Jake. Jake.

You let yourself sink to the floor, groaning and doubling over with your face in your hands.

Jake. Jake. Jake.

You can recall for a second how, just a few months ago, the thought of him would bring tears to your eyes. Angry, justified tears. Now you feel like a ball of frantic light that will implode if you can’t touch him soon.

You lean up to grab your phone from the bed to check it. No notifications from Jake. You do have Josh giving you a rundown of his view of the show and you’re able to focus enough to read it all and send him a few texts in reply, including your own thoughts and encouragement. You try to exclude your thoughts of Jake. You wonder if that’s the right choice.

When you finish sending those, you look at your thread with Jake again. Nothing from tonight.

Did he mean it? Did he regret it? Why didn’t he try to find you again?

Was he drunk and stupid again and you just didn’t notice? Were you so desensitized to it now?

You didn’t actually have a time that Jake would be back despite his promise to be “so fast.” You wished, in your anxiety-addled brain, that you had asked. Even if it was wrong or he got caught up, at least you’d have a reference.

Another groan is cut off by the sound of the lock whirring open and your gaze shoots to the door just as it opens and Jake is standing there, eyeliner smudged and an uncertain smile flickering on his lips.

You get to your feet as fast as you possibly can and just stand there like he is in the doorway. Silent.

Oh Jake.

He’s so beautiful. So beautiful. So nervous. His leather duffel is slung over his shoulder, post-show sweatshirt riding up on his hip and hair an absolute disgrace of a birds nest from all his on-stage thrashing and sweating.

He clears his throat, but his voice is still wavering when he speaks. “I didn’t know I was going to say that.”

You nod after a moment, the eye contact you keep at once anxious and safe.

When you don’t have a verbal reply, Jake steps fully into the dimly-lit room and lets the door click shut behind him. He drops his bag and toes off his shoes, padding across the floor to you until he’s a foot away, dropping to his knees before you. Like instinct, you hold his cheeks in your hands as his find the backs of your thighs.

Safe. His touch is safe. So is yours.

His eyes shut, brows unpinching as a sigh leaves his parted lips.

“I love you too, Jake.” You whisper, the pad of your thumb brushing over the seam of his lips as they purse.

When his eyes open into yours, there’s an almost panicked sheen to them. “Really?”

You nod, unable to control the smile that overtakes your face. “Really.”

Jake’s face floats through a series of expressions - elation, worry, confusion, relief - before his forehead tips to rest on your belly and he sighs heavily. “Thank you.”

You sink to your knees, his hands inadvertently brushing your silver satin dress up before they stop at your ass. You wrap your arms around his head to hold him close and you both just breathe it in. Safe. Thank you.

Pulling back, you hold his face in your hands again and kiss his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his ears, his closed eyes, whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you” between every slow kiss. His hands come up to hold your wrists, chin bowed reverently until your nose brushes his, inviting him to kiss you. It’s gentle, a hymnal, a moment of vulnerability you swore you’d never give each other.

You don’t remember much of the night you accidentally made a baby, but you remember that you didn’t get to experience Jake. It was never something you would say out loud - the desire to be this close. The sadness you felt when you were with your ex and knew his touch would never be home was often overwhelming but here, now, with Jake wrapping one arm around to the small of your back and the other on the edge of your upper thigh, thumbs stroking soothing patterns, you cannot picture how you ever could have lived without him. Without this. Magic exists. It’s in Jake’s touch. In his kiss. His soft lips as they move against yours.

Your heart beats in double time when his tongue coaxes yours forward, deepening the kiss that has already laid you to rest in some other dimension. Dead to it all. Just him and you and your baby.

When he pulls back, he quickly wipes a tear from his cheek and you laugh softly, pulling his hand away from his face. You press a kiss to where the tear had fallen, Jake’s breath of relief fanning down your throat.

He wraps his arms around you and stands, lifting you onto the edge of the bed before kneeling in front of you again. One hand on the back of your ankle, the other on your calf, he looks up at you through wet eyelashes.

“You are everything I want, Y/N.” He breathes, kissing your knee, the same one he kissed all those months ago.

You smile, fighting tears of your own. “Oh yeah?”

He chuckles, reaching up to tap under your eye. “If I have to cry, so do you.”

“Wrong.” You reply, holding up a finger. “I made the rules. I’m in charge.”

His smile becomes sly for a second. “Correct, honey girl.”

Your heart trills at the nickname and you can’t help the tear that slips out. You quickly wipe it away, laughing. “Ignore that.”

Jake begins unlacing your boot and easing it off. “I liked being able to see you the whole show. Thank you for staying there.”

Your hands find your bump, watching him gingerly lift your other foot to unlace that boot. “I loved watching you.”

He pretends a faint pink blush doesn’t color his cheeks as he eases your other shoe off, rolling down your socks before kissing the inside of your knees and standing up. “We should stay here forever.” He states, guiding you to sit further up on the bed so he can crawl up and lay with his head beside your hip.

You lean back on one hand, the other still on your bump as Jake rests a hand beside yours. “The hotel? We haven’t made many memories here yet.”

“Wrong.” Jake corrects, laying on his side and kissing your belly. “It’s where you told me you love me. I never want to leave.”

You smile, the thought of how you felt about yourself only creeping up for a split second before your heart melted at the sight before you.

“And also I plan to give you some unforgettable moments here.” Jake mutters before looking up at you.

You laugh as you lay down, Jake coming up to rest his head on your chest. The tenderness puts this feeling in your stomach that feels almost like you’re about to throw up, but a warmth overwhelms it that eases your muscles into the embrace.

“I’m okay with staying here.” You whisper.

Jake hums in acknowledgment, then hums again when he feels more little kicks under his hand. He freezes like any movement would scare the little feet away, making you smile and kiss the top of his head.

“She likes you.” You note, resting your hand on top of his.

Jake’s sigh holds so much weight. “You think so?”

“If she’s anything like me, I can guarantee it.”

“I hope she’s everything like you.” Jake breathes after a moment of quiet.

You both lay in silence for some time, reveling in the careful peace, the room lit by one lamp that casts a warm, dim glow over the room. You’re still in your silver dress and jewelry, he’s still in jeans and a sweatshirt, and you’re certain you’d both never move if you had the option.

“I love you.” He says. It’s factual. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” You reply, running your thumb over his hand on your belly.

“I need to shower.”

“No.” You state, holding him closer. “Don’t leave.”

He chuckles, kissing the exposed skin of your chest. “Come with me, then.”

You sigh, heat blooming in your chest. “Mmmm let me think about it …”

Jake slips a finger under one of the straps of your dress and slides it over your shoulder, exposing the top of your full breast. “Think faster.”

“Someone’s needy.” You remark as he kisses the swell, not making any movement to advance anything.

“Someone feels disgusting from performing and wants to only think about you and not how sweaty I am.” He corrects you. “But also, yes. Needy.”

Before you can reply, he rolls over and gets up, holding a hand out to you.

You sigh dramatically. “Fine, but you have to kiss me some more first.”

Jake’s smile is dreamy. “I would love to.”

You take his hand and follow him to the bathroom where he sets you on the marble counter. The LED lights from the mirror make his eyes glow and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“You won’t be able to do that much longer.” You remark as Jake pulls his sweatshirt off along with the t-shirt underneath.

He stands between your legs and nudges your nose with his, pecking your lips. “Lift you?”

You nod.

“Wrong. I’m resolved to make sure I’m strong enough to lift you and however many babies we have for the rest of my life.”

Your heart skips a beat, your hands coming to rest on his chest. “Excuse me?”

He kisses you again, slower. His mustache is filling out and tickles your lip, making you smile. He’s real. He’s concrete.

“You heard me.” Jake mumbles against your mouth, tongue running against yours.

You run your hands down his soft belly and grab his waist, pulling him forward. “Maybe you should run your big plans by me first, yeah?”

He smiles, nipping your lower lip. When he speaks, he’s only barely not kissing you, neither of you wanting to pull apart. “Yes ma’am. Fine. But I will always be able to lift you, pretty baby belly or not.”

You tip your head back, momentarily overcome with that electric buzz Jake gives you. You loop your index fingers through his belt loops and go back to kissing him. “Fine. I accept.”

Jake reaches a hand down to undo his belt and you can’t help how fucking hot you find it, sighing against his mouth. He smirks. “I got you into the bathroom, can I bring you into the shower with me?”

“You gonna fuck me in there?”

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be so crass.”

You laugh, all the while reaching down to unbutton his pants. A silent acceptance of his invitation. “How much do you remember of that night?”

“Which one? The night I learned you had a breeding kink or the night I learned the consequences of said breeding kink?”

A stupid one-two punch that leaves you laughing again, head tipped back so you don’t hurt his ears with the volume. He must notice, because he grabs your chin and tilts it back down again, kissing you softly.

“The first one.” You reply.

He slides your strap down again and kisses your shoulder. “Almost all of it.”

“Almost?”

“Well I remember everything up until the end. Which is torturous because I’ve been replaying the first time I touched you since it happened.” He kisses either side of your clavicle, grazing his teeth over the ridge.

“The end?” You ask, breath beginning to pick up.

“Making you cum with my cock deep inside you.” He answers like it’s nothing, but you press your fingernails into the back of his biceps, pressing your cheek to his dipped head. “I guess I remember parts of it. I remember the noises you made … but that’s probably because I’ve heard them many times since then.”

“Not nearly enough.” You correct him as he slips your other strap over your shoulder.

“Have you missed me, baby?” His voice is low and rough, one hand gripping your hip just firmly enough.

You nod. “Badly, honey.”

“Tell me what you remember.” He whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can lift you up enough to pull your dress up to your hips. He’s taking his sweet time with you and you try not to complain about it.

You sigh, carding a hand through his tangled hair when his lips find the center of your chest, pressing little kisses, barely-there touches skimming your waist.

“I remember being so drunk that letting you fuck me seemed like a good idea.”

He chuckles. “How did that turn out?”

“Well, I’m in a beautiful hotel room being kissed by an even more beautiful man who gave me a baby.” You reply, and he hums against your skin, his smile evident in the sound. “So I think it turned out fine.”

His hands creep around your back and he pulls you into a hug, his kisses pausing as his forehead rests on your shoulder. You hug him back, wrapping your legs around his hips.

“My point being,” You continue. “I don’t think I have to worry about being crass with you, Jacob.”

This makes him chuckle, leaning out of the hug and unzipping his pants.

This is taking forever.

“No, I guess not.” He agrees. “But you’re mistaken if you think I’m treating you how I did that night.”

You hum questioningly, two fingers under his chin to guide him back to kissing you. So reverent.

He hums affirmatively against your lips. “My sweet girl, it’s all about you. I want you to take whatever you want. I’m all yours. Everything you want is yours. And I intend to savor you in every second of it, branding the feel of you all around me into my brain so I’m never without the mercy of the memory of your touch.”

The sigh that leaves your chest is one that would’ve been there even were you not pregnant. Heavy, heady, in love. In love. In love.

“I want what you want.” You reply in almost a whine, unable to bring yourself to accept his offer. Something lives in you that can’t accept that anyone would actively want you, even when they say it. You’ve been wrong before. You’ve accepted pretty words before. And you’ve been burned.

Jake shakes his head. “No ma’am. I said it first. I win.”

Your lips purse and you watch as he pulls away from you, stepping back and tilting his chin up in question.

“Fine.” You mutter.

A smirk appears on his face as he holds his hand out in invitation. “You first. I made a promise.”

You had forgotten his promise. Another wave of warmth fills your chest. “You intend to keep it? Really?”

He nods resolutely as you take his hand and he helps you off the counter. “I do. Now turn around.”

You turn and face the mirror, Jake’s eyes meeting yours as he slowly unzips your dress. He smiles softly and you can’t help but do the same. When the zipper is undone, he steps forward and holds the dress up with a palm under your breasts. You were correct about not wearing a bra being a thing of the past, but apparently that didn’t stop you, because you went braless with this dress too and the silver highlighted your peaked nipples as Jake gingerly slid the dress down your arms, over your tits, slowly over your belly, until it hit the floor - his eyes never leaving your reflection.

You wrap your hands around his arm that rests between your breasts and belly, silently giving him permission when his thumb loops through the band of your panties. They fall to the floor too and you don’t remember feeling so naked before as you do in front of the mesmerizing, mesmerized eyes of Jake Kiszka. You feel your heart rate pick up in a bad way, your eyebrows pinching together with nerves before Jake kisses behind your ear.

“Thank you.” He whispers. “You look so perfect carrying our baby.”

At that, you melt into his bare chest, all tension leaving your body. You remember how you feel with Jake - held. Safe. Safe. Like never before.

He kisses your shoulder and turns you around, kissing you again. “I don’t think I will ever get tired of how you taste.”

You smile softly, thumb brushing over his jaw. “The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m sorry I took so long.” Jake says against your lips as you hook your thumb in his waistband.

You look at him quizzically, head tilting sideways.

“To see you.” He says, hands on your waist pulling you closer to him. “I wish I opened my fucking eyes to you sooner.”

Fucking pregnancy tears. You laugh as you furiously wipe their tracks away, but Jake gingerly pulls your hands away.

“Are these happy tears? Or fuck that dude tears?” He’s trying to joke but you can see the worry in his face.

You laugh again, pulling him in for another kiss. His lips are so soft and warm. “Happy tears.”

“Good.” He smiles, trying to fight the worry. “Stay here.”

He steps away and opens the glass door of the massive shower, leaning in to turn the knob and testing the water until it’s where he wants. When he comes back, he runs his hands through his hair, making a sort of ponytail as he tugs and smiles nervously.

“You never said yes to joining me.”

You scoff, kissing his cheek. “Take your pants off, dumbass.”

It’s almost funny how you both waver in and out of nerves despite how you know how badly you want to be right where you are. He obviously does too. The worry comes from not knowing about the other person. But you’re trying. He is too.

You step into the warm shower and he follows suit, immediately wrapping his strong arms around you and kissing you, your hands on his cheeks. This is how you felt safe. If there were ever a statue made of the two of you, you’re certain history would depict his hands on the small of your back and yours on his cheeks while you kissed. You’re certain if you would be frozen in that second, kissing Jake, you’d be just fine with that.

“Fuck.” Jake mutters, pulling back and quickly yanking his big rings off, throwing them one-by-one over the shower door and onto the floor, making you laugh. When he finishes, he pulls you close again, just looking at you. You loop your arms around his neck.

“Remember when you ran me a bath when I got sick?” You ask, Jake’s hand sneaking down to grab your ass. It’s not seeking, it’s just to have you close. And you’re certain he likes your soft edges and curves as much as you like his.

“I do.” He nods once. “That would be the day after the other night I remember.”

You nod back. “Can I repay the favor?”

His eyebrows pinch together. “It wasn’t a favor, honey girl. That was- … that was because I loved you. There’s nothing to repay.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “You loved me then?”

“I think I- … yeah.” He nods firmly, eyes still uncertain.

You both stay with that for a moment, the dual shower heads drenching his hair and causing his smudged eyeliner to leak down his cheeks. You smile, brushing it away.

“Fine. Can I love you too?” You ask, and he smiles.

“Sure.” He shrugs with a faked casual air, but he gently grips your waist in affirmation.

You kiss his cheek and he sits on the bench that takes up a lot of the shower. With shampoo in hand, you stand before him and run it through his tangled hair, carefully undoing each knot with pinched fingers over the strands. His eyes flutter shut and his face is one of nearly zoned-out peace.

As you lather the soap through his hair, his hands come up from the bench and loop around your lower back, both calloused palms splaying against your wet skin.

Jake’s eyes remain shut as he speaks. “Tell me you love me again.”

You smile softly, sweeping suds from his forehead with your thumb. “I love you, Jake.”

A slow smile creeps up his face, a pink blush blooming over his cheeks and chest. “Say it again.”

You lean forward slightly to kiss his cheek, whispering in his ear. “I love you, needy.”

His eyes open at this just before you’re washing the soap from his hair. He blinks quickly and pinches your hip. “I’ve only heard it a few times. I’m filling my bank. Leave me alone.”

You raise an eyebrow, running conditioner through his hair now. “Is that what you want, soldier? For me to leave you alone?”

He shakes his head, eyes intent on yours. “No. At least not tonight.”

Now you pinch his bicep as he laughs at your gasp. “Ass.”

You twirl his hair, lathered in conditioner, into a bun at the nape of his neck. He closes his eyes again, hands traveling to grip your ass as his forehead dips to the top of your belly.

“Kidding.” He mumbles between kisses to your bump. “I’m pondering canceling the tour again, actually.”

“Sure, mister rockstar.” You reply sarcastically, rinsing the conditioner from his hair. “Whatever you say.”

He shrugs, his hum noncommittal between more kisses. “Unless you wanna come with me? Us? You can tattle on me to Josh if I’m an **ass.” He mocks you, chuckling when you spray the water on his face.

“You’re Uhauling, Jake.” You tsk, brushing his wet hair from his face and making him look up at you. Even with his gaze on you, he kisses your bump over and over. The smile that overtakes your face is reflected in his own.

“I don’t want to miss another moment. Sue me.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing the face wash to get the rest of his makeup off. You turning makes him have to sit back for a second, huffing like a child. You turn back and he closes his eyes again, lifting his chin so you have more access to his face. You’re gentle, trying to remove eyeliner without getting soap in his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to notice as his hands find the backs of your thighs, traveling up to grab your ass and squeeze, yanking you toward him. You laugh, steadying yourself with your knees bumping against the bench.

Instead of spraying him, you cup water in your hands and let it wash over his face, removing the last traces of his stage makeup and leaving him finally clean save for his body.

Just as you’re about to turn to grab the body wash, he makes a little noise in the back of his throat to make you stop and he pulls you close, all but lifting you onto his lap as he leans against the shower wall. You happily climb into his lap and kiss him instantly, accepting the millionth of a billion kisses you'll be demanding during the remainder of the night. The shower water running over your faces makes your lips slide together effortlessly as his tongue runs along your lower lip before meeting yours in a slow, steady rhythm.

You can’t help the breathy sound of anticipation that escapes you, one that Jake enjoys if you’re going off the smile you feel against your lips. His hands find your ass again and he pulls you closer. You can feel him growing hard between your legs and you sigh, sinking your hands into his hair.

“I’ve missed you.” You breathe, rising on your knees as Jake pushes you up, his lips trailing down your neck in open-mouthed kisses.

He just hums a reply against your skin, one hand leaving your ass to run up your belly until it finds one of your breasts. His reply, really, is the way he glides the center of his palm over your nipple and makes your breath stutter before his soft hand envelopes your tit and he groans appreciatively. You smile, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. This breaks his trail of movements, making him look up at you with such tender eyes.

You brush some fallen hair from his cheek and kiss his forehead. “What?”

He opens his mouth to speak but it just stays there before he shakes his head. “Nothing. I just … I’m not used to … It’s nothing.” He chuckles, flustered, trying to distract you with his thumb running over your nipple.

You hold his wrist, though absolutely appreciating how he makes you feel. “No, tell me.”

“W- …” He sighs in frustration, getting himself together while placing a long kiss to your sternum. “We’re about to have sex, right?”

You smile, your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Yes, baby.”

A smile flickers on Jake’s face for a second as his chest falls heavily. “I’ve told you about all the women I’ve been with before … right?”

You wince, but recover quickly in his hold. He moves his other hand so they’re both holding your pregnancy-swollen tits and you hold that wrist too, keeping him still. “A bit. But I’ve been around. I’ve seen them.”

He nods, keeping his eyes steady on yours. “It’s just … I don’t know. When you kissed my head I- …”

You lean down a breath to kiss him, feeling his muscles soften at the touch. When you pull back, he’s smiling softly again.

“I’ve never really had anyone be soft with me. It just startled me, is all.” His voice is small, his eyes flickering between yours.

Your sweet boy.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You whisper, pulling him into a hug that does squish his face into your boobs. But that’s okay. “You deserved better.”

He shrugs. “Debatable. I’m just enjoying this now.”

You giggle as he squeezes your tits, and tilts his chin up for another kiss. You oblige, holding his cheeks in your hands and kissing him softly. Sweet boy.

When his thumbs run over your nipples, you remember where you are and nip his lower lip, earning a chuckle.

You begin to debate if you actually need to wash your hair or if you can just let him fuck you right there.

He must sense this train of thought, because he pulls away from your kiss and makes a dismissing noise. “I told you I’m not treating you like last time. You need to shower too. You’re gonna get glitter on me and I can’t let my brothers see that.”

You gasp, gripping his wrists again. “Rude!”

He laughs, kissing between your breasts again. “I’ll make you a deal, okay?”

You nod, biting your lip as the pads of his thumbs trace under your nipples.

“You wash your hair, I take care of you.” He states, handing you the bottle of shampoo. “Yeah?”

You sigh half-heartedly, taking the bottle and about to complain until his lips make a determined path to your nipple, making your breath hitch. He kisses the bud gently before running his tongue over it, making the muscles in your lower belly tense.

“Have I told you that being pregnant has made me so horny?” You ask, trying not to get lost in the way his mouth makes your heart rate rise dramatically.

He chuckles, kissing your nipple again and squeezing your breasts in either hand. “I could tell.”

You groan, squirting shampoo in your hand and slowly raking it through your hair, eyes closed, taking in how he pinches one nipple and licks the other. Fucking hell.

You massage the soap through your hair, your hands stuttering in their movements when his teeth graze your sensitive skin, a gasp drawn from your throat.

Jake chuckles, not giving in and returning to soft kisses on the other breast. “You’re fun to play with.”

The sentiment makes heat bloom between your legs and you groan as you tip your head back to rinse the shampoo out. He takes the opportunity to wrap his mouth fully around your nipple and bite, his hands splayed on your back holding you up as you arch and whine tremulously; your hand, half covered in shampoo, immediately gripping the hair at the nape of his neck into a fist.

“Jake!” You gasp, remaining arched back as his tongue laves over his bite and you shudder. When his name tumbles from your mouth, you feel his erection twitch between your legs - cannon fodder to your already burning desire.

Jake’s hand moves between your shoulder blades, gently urging you up while his other hand wraps fully around your waist, securing you against him. You look down at his face, his eyes closed as he sucks your nipple between his lips.

He looks like an angel, so caught up in his own world. You yourself begin to think of what he said. How he’d never been treated softly. But you look at his pretty, content face and feel his strong arms hold you in what is essentially a hug and … you’re lucky the shower is a good excuse for any possible tears.

You can’t remember the last time you were treated with such tenderness. Not before him.

You lean forward to whisper in his ear, making him release your nipple and groan. You giggle, holding his wet face in your hands. “You could take me to bed now.”

He shakes his head immediately, his eyes lusty and heavy as his hands both travel down your ass and to your thighs straddled over him. “Lemme take my time, honey girl.” He kisses you slowly and you rise up on your knees, your tits brushing against his chest and making him gasp against your lips. “I wanna worship you.”

“Fuck me …” you groan, trying to quell the burning desire that has overtaken your whole body.

Jake winks. “That’s what I’m trying to do, busybody.”

You tenderly yank on a strand of his hair and he smiles, turning to kiss the inside of your wrist. It melts you, and you can’t help but pull him into an embrace against your chest which does, again, squish his face into your boobs. He, however, doesn’t mind - nipping at the soft skin and humming contentedly.

“Fine,” You sigh, tilting his chin up but still holding him close. “As long as you’re happy.”

“Y/N, I would die happily with my face between your legs. There is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Jake’s hands massage your thighs as you roll your eyes, earning you a teasing slap to your ass.

“Speaking of,” He starts and stands up, holding you with his hands on your ass as you wrap your legs around him. “Trade places with me.”

You lean your forehead against his, looking in his eyes intently. “There’s just no way you’re always so okay with giving, Jake. Come on.”

He looks genuinely confused. “Who said?”

You roll your eyes again, noting that he’s turned around and moved his hip to uncross your ankles at his back. “My entire experience with men. That’s who.”

He chuckles, easing you onto the bench and sinking to his knees. You run your hands over his hot, wet shoulders as he looks up at you through clumped lashes. “Not to ruin the mood, but you’ve been with at least one other man who you said is apparently just like me.”

“Don’t bring your brother into this.” You chide as he kisses the inside of the leg he’s putting over his shoulder. You lean back on your hands and watch his eyes flutter shut again, lips dragging on your inner thigh. And you’re reminded that you’re wrong about him. Again.

When his eyes find yours, you can tell they’re trying so hard not to flicker to where he’s exposed you. It makes his point. “Y/N, some day, I will prove my point hard enough for you to not doubt me again. But not while you’re pregnant. That’s a hazard.” He winks, his hands wrapping around the outside of your thighs and bracing them open wider. His eyes momentarily flutter between your legs and he groans, his lip between his teeth and eyes pinched shut.

Heat. Hot. He’s so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot. Two different ways. Fucking hell.

Your palm finds his cheek and he leans against it, opening his eyes into yours.

“You have no idea how often I think about how you taste, baby. I think about how you squeeze my fingers and drip down my chin; how you whine and pant and make such pretty noises for me. I think about how soft and velvety your pussy feels on my tongue and-“ His chin dips and he takes a deep breath. “Alright, enough about me before I lose my mind.”

You giggle softly behind your hand, trying not to comment on the way his stomach tenses as he breathes deeply.

“Okay, pretty boy.” You croon, relishing in his tender kisses to your palm as his fingers press into the flesh of your thighs. “As long as you let me repay the-“

His eyebrow quirks.

“The not-favor.” You correct yourself. “The thing I want to do because I love you.”

A smile breaks out on one side of his lips. “Deal. Me first though. Please.”

Another playful roll of your eyes. “If you insist.”

Jake keeps his eyes on yours while half-heartedly biting the inside of your thigh hitched over his shoulder. “Good girl.”

You sigh, leaning back against the shower wall as his face dips between your thighs, tender kisses trailing the junction of your legs and your core. It would be so easy to get stuck like this, in some made-up heaven where Jake makes you feel like a worthy human and not like a masturbation tool. Where he’s not receiving or even, really, giving. He’s just worshiping. Coddling. Appreciating. Slow, deliberate, one hand running up and down your thigh soothingly. It’s not hot and heavy, it’s there for the long haul.

Please.

When his lips begin a trail of kisses on the seam of your heat, you bite your lip and whine. The teasing is fun, yes, but fuck if you haven’t missed his mouth.

“Please, Jake.” You whisper and he looks up at you with a face that assures you he will not be listening to your pleas any time soon.

In fact, he pulls back to leave open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh before biting down like he did on your nipple. Your legs tense on either side of his head, a new heat flooding your pussy. You resolve then to maybe try and possibly just let him do what he wants, trust him with the pleasure he so obviously loves giving you for some reason.

Jake kisses your folds again, nipping gently before breathing you in, his eyes softly shut. “I’ve missed you.” He breathes.

“Me or my-” You begin to tease but he cuts you off.

“It’s better not to ask, you’ll only hurt your own feelings.” He says with fake pity just before licking a long stripe from your aching entrance to your throbbing clit.

You suck in air between gritted teeth, your head knocking against the tile wall.

He feels so good. He’s always so good. Alternating kitten licks and long, slow laves of his tongue, over your clit in languid circles or teasing your clenching center with a stupid, mocking smile on his face.

You reach forward just to hold one of his hands and he accepts gratefully, never changing pace as you bite your lip and moan breathily.

“Good girl.” His voice rumbles against your skin and sends shockwaves through your body. “Let me hear how good you feel.”

“Fuck,” You breathe out, chin dipping and giving you a better view of his cocky wink as his tongue flutters against your clit and you have to fight to keep your thighs from crushing his head.

“You taste like heaven.” Jake whispers, kissing your clit and pulling back less than a hair's breadth away, the fingers of the hand not holding yours slowly tracing under your thigh until they ghost over your pussy and make you whine. “And you sound like it too.”

You try to pull yourself back for a second so you don’t look too desperate and come right there. You’re not sure why, which makes sense given the only thought you can manage that isn’t related to Jake Jake Jake is how crazy it is that a shower can maintain hot water for as long as you’ve both been in there. But Jake slides his middle finger inside of you and a gasp rattles through your chest, shattering that one thought into a million pieces and bringing you back to him, his hand squeezing yours.

He keeps his heavy brown eyes on yours as he gratefully suckles your clit, his one finger dragging in and out of your pussy, and you’re certain that not only has no one ever wanted your pleasure as much as Jake … but no pretty face has ever been so erotic as his. Blushed cheeks, eyes fighting to stay open, lips wrapped around your clit and lapping so perfectly you momentarily think you’ll shatter right there.

You squeeze a fist in his wet hair and push your hips further against his mouth. He accepts gratefully, burying his face between your legs and making lewd, slurping noises as your legs begin to shake.

“Jakey, baby …” you breathe, your heart rate skittering in your chest. He looks up at you for a split second, just letting you know he’s listening while his finger curls upward. Your mouth drops open and you feel it. The Jake-induced orgasm you’ve grown to love just beginning to crest. Your head knocks back against the shower wall and your back arches as you squeeze his hand hard.

“Jake!” You half whine, half moan. “Jake plea- Jake don’t stop please.”

He groans, surely suffocating from how wholly he’s devouring you, pulling you even closer and drawing a gasp from you as the wave finally crests. Staccato moans bounce off the tiled walls as you come on Jake’s face, his hummed approval only prolonging the explosive pleasure that floods your brain.

“Good girl.” He croons, muffled by his proximity to your pussy, his swollen lips grazing gently over your clit and making you wince and whine. He smiles. “Good girl.”

Your chest heaving, you move your hand from his hair and finding his cheek again, your thumb on his pink lips. His own breathing is labored, his now-free hand squeezing the inside of your thigh, slowly and carefully bringing you down.

“You’re so pretty.” You breathe, cheeks absolutely blazing.

“Mm. Mhm.” He kisses your thumb and slowly guides your thigh from his shoulder. His hand still in yours, he guides both of his hands to your belly and kisses just under your naval. “Says you.”

You pinch his cheek and smile. “Now let me love you, baby. Please.”

Jake groans into a chuckle, tipping his forehead against your belly. “Don’t wanna move.”

You laugh, moving his head so he can look up at you. “I’m remembering that time at that guys party now.”

He looks half-drunk with his heavy eyes and pink cheeks. He looks wholly enamored. “Me too.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, teasing.

Jake nods, his cheeks squished in your hands. “Remembering how I thought I would explode, yes.” He chuckles, then sighs wistfully. “I didn’t know how to explain the burning in my chest until now.”

“And what was it? Indigestion?”

He wrinkles his nose at you, smiling. “Obsession, actually. Gliding my tongue between your swollen pussy for the second time, knowing how you tasted but feeling again just how …” he looks at you in complete rapture. You want to suck his dick so bad. “Just how it felt to tongue fuck you and feel you come on my face. Fucking hell, Y/N … I don’t know.” He trails off, chuckling. He wraps his arms around your hips, still kneeling on the **definitely uncomfortable tile floor.

“Well I’m glad you had the balls to ask to me return the favor.” You whisper, your ass on the edge of the bench as you twirl his hair around your finger.

He rolls his eyes, reaching over and shutting the shower off. You’re immediately chilly and he stands, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your shoulders. You pout. He mimes it back.

“What?” He asks when your lips part, drying himself off.

You finally get to see him. Holy fuck.

You squeeze your thighs together, eyes unable to leave it. Him.

“That was inside me?” You breathe, biting your lip.

You had never felt much attraction to dicks but fucking hell … seeing the man you love stand there, fully bare, hard for you … you had to control your breathing so you didn’t get lightheaded.

He chuckles, guiding you to stand so he can kiss you again, hands cupping your jaw and fingers tracing back into your hair. He breathes out through his nose and you trace your hand down his stomach until your fingers touch the patch of hair above his hard cock.

“Yes.” Jake smirks, one so full of love and humor. “Why?”

You shake your head, running your fingers down every so slightly. “No wonder I missed it so bad.”

“Excuse me.” Jake tuts, tapping under your chin with a crooked finger. “Eyes up here.”

You whine, kissing him in a short series of pecks where he nips at you at the end. “Please don’t make me beg again.”

Jake really is trying to seem tough but the blush on his cheeks shows you just how affected he is. He bends down to wrap his arms around your thighs. You hop into his arms and wrap your legs around his waist, going right back to kissing him. The thrum in your chest may be permanent if he doesn’t let you taste him in the next few minutes.

“You don’t gotta beg, baby.” Jake mutters against your lips. “I just don’t wanna hurt you.”

You groan, nudging your nose against his as you whisper. “Please, Jake. Please let me suck your cock. Then you can do whatever you want. I’ll be so good, I promise.”

The breaths Jake begins to take are shaking and flustered. “That was not the direction I thought that was going.”

You kiss him again and laugh against his parted lips. “Whatever you want, baby. Just give me this one thing.”

Jake accepts your lazy kisses while he thinks, apparently. You take the opportunity to wiggle your hips until you just brush his cock and he swears, hissing. In an instant, he carries you back to the bed and sits down. You’re back to kneeling above him and his hand finds your bump again.

“Tell me what you wanna do.” Jake’s breathy voice stutters against your skin as his lips brush over your jaw. Your hair drips down your back and you know you’ll make a wet mess in more ways than one but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You smile, tilting your hips so your parted pussy lips drags over him and he gasps, eyes pinching shut.

“That’s not fair, baby.” He grips your ass and lifts you to your knees. “I won’t last long enough for all you want from me.”

You laugh now, softly pressing a kiss to his ear. “I want to get on my knees and sit between your pretty thighs.”

He hums in acknowledgment, lips running over the curve of your jaw as his hands run circles over your asscheeks. “Just gonna sit there all pretty?”

You hum back. “No. I was thinking I’d see how far I could take you in your mouth, actually.”

Jake groans, pulling you closer to him so he can run you over his length this time. Your breath hitches and he grins. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see what those pink lips of yours look like on my cock.”

He was infinitely better at dirty talk than you were. That was obvious.

“Let me show you, then.” You whisper, peeling yourself off of him and sinking to your knees.

“I don’t wanna- …” He licks his lips even while his legs part, eyebrows scrunching at the sight of you on the floor before him. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me, Jake.” You protest, kissing the inside of his knee and watching his lips part. “If you’re so concerned, keep your hands to yourself.”

He rolls his eyes but sits back on his hands. “Fine. Agreed.”

“Good boy.” You wink, taking him in your hand and pumping once, slowly. You remember that he hasn’t gotten off by your hands, mouth or pussy since that first night. Now, after both of you waiting for so long, a low breath escapes his chest as he looks down at you and he’s immediately dazed.

Slow pumps, kisses to the tip, Jake’s grunt is emphasized by the way he grips the sheets that are slowly getting wet from the drops of water running off his hair.

You open your mouth a touch to leave an open-mouthed kiss to his weeping cock. He’s waited so long. He’s so pretty. He smacks the mattress beside him in some attempt at control when you begin to leave sloppy, wet kisses up and down his length. He’s so heavy and soft in your hand, you want to grip him much harder than you were.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this sensitive.” Jake breathes, eyes fighting to stay open as he watches you.

You smile, one long lick finishing with your lips wrapped around him. The noises from Jake goes straight to your core as you bob your head, flat tongue against the vein that pulses underneath.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, again gripping the sheets and biting his lip.

He tastes so good. Clean and musky and warm. So soft on your tongue, so responsive when your lower teeth graze him. This was everything you had wanted.

You can see his thighs clench and shake as he tries to keep them open, your free hand smoothing down his calf and squeezing, prompting him to relax.

“I’m trying.” He whines under his breath, head tipping back as he fights the urge to move his hips. “I really am trying.”

You pull back just a centimeter from his wet cock, kissing it lovingly while he pants. “What are you trying to do?”

His smile is accompanied by a sigh. “Not cum yet.”

“Why?” You tilt your head to the side, hand still working his length. You love watching him fight to keep his eyes open.

Through gritted teeth, he replies “I wanna cum inside you, dove. Want you to ride me.”

Heat blossoms in your chest and between your legs. Fucking hell.

“What if I want you to cum in my mouth?”

The intensity of his gaze now was so much that you shift and squirm like you can ride it. Fuck.

“Later.” Jake replies gruffly, reaching down to ineffectively lift you up. You both giggle in such close proximity as he lays back and you crawl over him. His warm smile kisses yours, you straddling his waist and him burying a hand in your slowly drying hair, the movement shakes a drop of water onto his shoulder and his muscles tense at the cold. “Forgot we were wet.” He mutters, quickly going back to kissing you.

“You’ve been occupied.” You say between a kiss. “You’re excused.”

He hums mockingly against your mouth. “Mhm. Stop talking and ride me, baby.”

You know his bravado is only teasing but you can’t help the sharp breath that leaves you at his command. You push your hips back into his hands and he eases you back and forth over him, the short breaths that leave him panted against your cheeks.

You feel Jake freeze, his hands tight on your ass to hold you still.

“What’s wrong?” You ask in his ear, kissing his cheekbone.

He shakes his head, lazily kissing your cheek. “Nothin’. Need to calm down is all.”

You can’t help but feel smug. Really. Maybe you were bad at taking hints, sure, but seeing his pink cheeks and swollen lips, feeling his hips arch up into you against his will … even if only physically, you own him.

You lean forward enough to kiss under his ear. He sighs, his shoulders untensing in your grip.

“You’re acting like this is the only time we’ll ever get to do this.” You whisper, kissing a line down his jaw.

Jake smiles lazily, eyes barely open. “I’ve waited so long for you, baby. I told you, if I don’t control myself now, we’re both in trouble.”

You can’t help but smirk. “What do you mean by that, cowboy? Sounds like you have quite an ego on you.”

Jake squeezes your ass again, a gentle push to let you move again. You oblige, and you can see the instant regret in his eyes before it quickly melts into pleasure.

“I mean I’m not gonna last long enough for you to cum.” He pants, eyebrows pinched together. His thumbs find the crease between your belly and your thighs, using his secure grip to tilt your hips just so. “But we’re both gonna have to deal with that, aren’t we?” He mumbles, mostly to himself, capturing your gasp in his kiss when the thick head of his cock nudges your entrance.

You can’t manage a response, your lip between your teeth as you take his pained look as an invitation to keep going. Keep going. Fuck.

“I’m in your hands, Y/N. Use me.” Jake whispers hoarsely, eyes pinching shut like he’s trying to control himself, regain composure. “Just let me feel you.”

You’re so close like this, your foreheads pressed together as open mouths pant into each others. You sink down, pausing every inch or so just to feel him. You want to engrave this into your mind. Maybe this was your snowglobe moment. A disgusting, horny snowglobe moment, yes. But you’d give anything to capture every flash of light in the corners of your vision as Jake’s cock slides so effortlessly into you after you’ve waited to feel him again for months.

“Fuck,” you mumble against his open mouth. “Fuck, Jake … you feel so good.”

Jake just grunts, squeezing your hips. “Stay there for a second, okay? Just … don’t move.”

Your nipples graze his chest as you both breathe heavily, small whines and gasps shared between you as you both wait, letting the moment sink in. Fuck. Fuck.

Another subtle squeeze is invitation enough and you sink all the way down, your back arching your swollen tits nearly into Jake’s face. Apparently, he doesn’t mind. He presses a kiss to your sternum and hums when you move slowly, the aching slide where you meet sending boots of electricity through your skin.

You lean up enough to press your hands into his chest, gaining more leverage to lift and press your hips against him.

Jake takes the opportunity to grab your tits in each hand and present your nipples directly to his mouth, lovingly licking and kissing as you ride him. He is an image beneath you and you wonder how the **fuck you found yourself in bed with Jake Kiszka.

Pushing back ever so slightly, Jake’s perfect dick hits a spot inside of you that pulls the breath right from your lungs. His response to your sudden fluttering is a bite to your sensitive nipple and you both arch and groan.

His head smacks back into the pillows, his hands squeezing your tits as he breathes heavily. “That feel good, honey girl?”

You nod furiously, lip between your teeth. So good. So good.

“You’re lasting a lot longer than I expected.” You note, a lazy smile on your face as you slowly grind against him so he hits that spot over and over.

Jake tries to respond but gets cut off by his own pleasure, his jaw and arms shivering in protest to the rush of dopamine that squeezes his eyes shut. His mouth moves like he’s talking but he’s just whining. He’s so beautiful like this, sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip as he shakes with restraint.

You lean further back so you’re seated fully on top of him and it pulls a groan from deep in his belly.

He shakes his head but manages to keep his hazy gaze on you now. “I’m really trying here.” A breathy laugh escapes him but it’s short lived. “You feel so good, baby. Unbelievable.”

You smile proudly, content to watch the man you love become pussy drunk on you for however long he can manage.

But Jake stops you for a second with another squeeze to your hips that conveys, in the language you’ve somehow created since you crawled onto this bed, that he has something to say. But he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks up at you with sleepy eyes.

“What?” You ask, adjusting yourself on your knees and making him hiss.

“Tell me again.” He asks in a whisper, his face arrogant but sweet. “Tell me you love me while you get off on my cock.”

“Fucking hell,” you breathe, your head tipping back as you take in a full breath.

He squeezes again and you look back down. He knows what he’s doing and he knows what he wants.

You can’t help but smile back at him. Jake. Jake Jake Jake.

“I love you,” you whisper, grinding against him slowly but methodically.

You see his jaw clench, but he smiles. “Say it again.”

You rise up on your knees and sink fully down, Jake’s eyebrows shooting up as a ripple of pleasure shocks you both.

“I do-“ you gasp when he drags a hand from your hips to just above where you two connect, middle finger rubbing small circles over your clit. Fireworks bloom inside your chest and you moan out the rest. “I do love you, Jake.”

Jake hums affectionately, his finger picking up pace and making you whine. “You sound so pretty, dove. I love you too.”

Maybe he was more vocal about wanting to hear the sentiment but you wanted it just as bad, evident in the way your fingertips dug into his soft pecs and pressed crescent indents into his skin.

“Jake,” you gasp, his hips thrusting up just enough to meet your pace. “Jake.” You moan, jaw dropping when he perfectly hits your cervix just enough to make lava flow beneath your skin.

“Say it again.” He whispers, looping his free hand around the back of your neck to pull you down and meet him in a kiss. His lips stutter and your mouth falls open when the new angle and touch of his fingers lights the match in your belly. He must feel you fluttering around him because he whimpers “m’gonna cum, baby.”

You nod, trying desperately to kiss him as your pace becomes sloppy. The pleasure that floods your body makes you feel stupid as you lean back again and grip the wrist of his hand playing with your clit. “I love you, Jake.”

He nods frantically, lip between his teeth and biting hard. Before he can respond, his back arches off the bed, the most beautiful moans spilling from his open mouth. You feel his warm cum fill you and the sensation is what does you in, sparks exploding from your skin in every direction as you cum on top of him, your body shaking as you try to ride it out, both of your bodies suddenly becoming stupid with pleasure.

Just like before, Jake is so quick to wrap his arms around you and pull you close to him, his softening length still inside of you as you’re pulled underneath him against the pillows.

As he rests on his forearms above you, he maintains eye contact as he slips out of you, kissing you the second you begin to whine at the loss of contact.

“I love you, too.” He mutters into the kiss.

“I love you.” You respond.

“I love you.” He smiles against your lips, struggling to keep kissing you as you both smile stupidly.

“I love you.” You whisper, wrapping your shaking legs around his hips and yanking him closer.

“I love you.” He whispers back, kissing your forehead and wrapping his arms around your body in a hug. “Both of you.”

_____

TAGS!!

@sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @spark-my-nature @becinabubblegvf @bbkpisces95 @mackalah @iffypanic @gold-mines-melting @starcatcher-jake @hi-hi-hello11 @psychedelicsprinkles @takenbythemadness @ohmy-kiszka @katiegvf @myleftsock @objectsinspvce @withlovegvf @ieatedsammy @gretavansara @alyson814 @fleetingofthegretas @beckahvanfleet @starbuggie @gvfmarge @cassy-face @jaketlove @twistedmelodies @theweightofjake @kiarraaldarondo @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @chlop94 @catymc @wetkleenex-gvf @ihatemylife04 @heckingfrick @finestoflines @ourheavenishiding-blog @mybussyinchrist @gvfpal @reesetrippingthelight @lydia2458 @literal-dead-leaf @joshysgirl @josh-iamyour-mama @astreamofcolors @cassiesgreta @themorningbirds @gretas-sweat @sophiemylove @m0uthfl13s @dropdeadalyx31 @jakesgrapejuice @sacredmachine @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @mightbemighty @lallisonl @hellowgoodbye @jordie-gvf @caprisunsister

warnings: overstim

when virgin!konig eats you out for the first time, he’s so so sloppy. it's obvious he's inexperienced, but you still find yourself bucking your hips into his face. almost too enthusiastically, he dives in and laps at your pussy like there’s no tomorrow. you can see him humping the bed for a scrap of relief, and judging by the sounds he's making, he's going to cum in his pants. he grabs your thighs and pulls you even closer, sticking his tongue in your hole before dragging it up to circle your clit messily.

the stimulation on your clit makes you cum on his face, and you try shoving him off of you, but it's no use. this hulking mass of a man stays with his tongue buried in your pussy, and it's too much in the best way possible. you're overstimulated and shaky, but konig's too pussydrunk to notice or care. he takes your clit between his lips and sucks like it's a lollipop, and you moan loudly.

at this point, the noises he makes are louder than yours. he's licking up every drop of your wetness and soaking his face in your juices. you've cum too many times to count. you try to lock your legs together so he can't reach your overstimulated pussy, but he pries them apart and resumes his ministrations. he's cum more than ever just from grinding against the bed, his boxers and pants ruined. and, once again, he stuffs your pussy full of his tongue and makes you feel so good you could sob.

what beautiful thing are you? a handwritten love letter? a vase of freshly picked wildflowers? etc. etc. take my quiz xoxo

I lost every friendship I ever had and it still hurts.

1. Finneas O’Connell / 2. Ocean Vuong / 3. adampvrrish / 4. Otessa Moshfegh / 5. Fairycosmos / 6. Richard Siken / 7. frenchtoastlesbian

1. three moments in paris, mina loy/ 2. eurydice, sarah ruhl/ 3. orphée ramenant eurydice des enfers, jean-baptiste camille corot/ eurydice, sarah ruhl/ 4. talk, hozier/ 5. hadestown, anais mitchell/ 6. the wounded eurydice, jean baptiste camille corot

Danny Phantom Fantasy AU Masterpost

In honor of DannyMay Day 1 being Fantasy AU, here is an index of some of my favorite Fantasy AU fics (and shameless plugs):

Treading Water - a Mer!Danny au that I have read through 3 times because the angst is so good.

Astromancer by @modordracena- a shameless plug for my ongoing, weekly canon rewrite Dragon AU

The Woods of Amity by @five-rivers - I am utterly obsessed with the fantasy au. Danny is so creature in this and I love it so much.

Changeling by @five-rivers - Changeling au :3

Roll for...Ghosts? by @coyotecrackers - A fun fic where Ghost Writer pulls Amity Park into one big game of Fungeons and Dragons!

The Boy Who Fell Into the Sea by @bctoastyyy - A fun sea monster au inspired by HTTYD. As an HTTYD nerd and a lover of sea monsters, this fic is fantastic.

Funerary Rites by @jackdaw-sprite - A Lost Time Fae au that is Jackdaw's excuse for combining both Lost Time and fae rules.

Lost and Found by @echoghost1 - A cute Lost Time fae au

Isekai AU by @modordracena- Another self plug, Ghost Prince au, where Danny's experience of the ghost world is more like an Isekai.

Corvid AU by @modordracena- Another plug, crack treated seriously, au where a fae has cursed Danny to be part crow. Everyone knows au, lots of fun

Written in Blood by @catmiint - A demon au with vampire!vlad

Please reblog with any of your favorites I neglected to include!

Welcome to the Show

Hello, hello! I'm Ghoul(they/them) and I write fic, like a lot of fic. This is my Directory

I write in second person(you) so all of my fic can be read as x reader, and you can think of any callsigns/nicknames as your own. However, my fic is technically x oc, if that's not for you no problem! I don't include descriptions or names in any of my fics. MDNI

COD AUs

Cowboys Fae Demons Ballet Medieval Sin Summer Ghost!Ghost Regency Au Cyberpunk Au I want the Darlings

FAQ:

Can I write Fic with your OCs?

Yep! Just tag me in it if you post it.

Can I tell you about an OC I have for [insert au]?

Of course! OC talk is always open, but posting is contained to the morning.

Can I draw you OCs?

Yes. BUT I try to keep their descriptions vague so people can use them as Reader inserts, so I might not post/reblog it if you submit/post the art.

Do you take requests?

Sort of. If you have thoughts I'd love to hear them and if they inspire me I'll write something, but it might not be exactly what you requested. I tend to use asks as jumping off points rather than direct requests.

Do you cross post to anywhere else?

Not currently! If you see my fic elsewhere that isn't me. I don't give my consent to have my work reposted anywhere else.

Could you make a character AI for [insert character or au]?

No. I absolutely abhor ai and hope it crashes and burns before it does any more damage to art and creativity. Role-Play in a discord server like an adult.

Do you have a list of your OCs anywhere?

Yup. Here you go!

Ghoul's Hozier Bullshit

Pillow Princess Ghost

Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 0/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

David Bowie (1974)

David Bowie and the End of Gender, Anne Rice, Vogue, November 1983

Soft Touches

Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.

A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)

4k words

Masterlist

“Eddie, what the hell was in that?” 

Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset. 

“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?” 

“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.” 

Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at. 

It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.

You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not. 

“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?” 

“Huh?” 

Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze. 

“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.” 

Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain. 

“I wasn't staring at your dick!” 

“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 

Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head. 

“Oh Holy shit.” 

Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you. 

“Easy there, I've got you.” 

Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus. 

“I need to lie down.” 

Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses. 

You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement. 

Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.” 

Eddie laughed, relieved.

“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.” 

You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now. 

“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands. 

“You want this off?” 

“Please.” 

He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form. 

“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.” 

Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display. 

“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.” 

Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you. 

“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.” 

“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”

Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin. 

“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.” 

Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it. 

“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”

Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin. 

“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?” 

You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow. 

“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.” 

The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale. 

“Right, tell me everything.” 

Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious. 

“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?” 

Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice. 

“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.” 

He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his. 

The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you. 

“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?” 

“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.” 

His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop. 

“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.” 

Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin. 

“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.” 

Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you touching me?” 

He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before. 

“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.” 

“I do?” 

He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.

“See? Like that.” 

Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks. 

“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?” 

Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension. 

“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.” 

“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point. 

“Yeah.” 

“I didn't know I was irresistible.”

You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him. 

“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.” 

“Pretty sure I heard-” 

Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you. 

“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.” 

His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him. 

“Nice touches?” 

“Yeah, it feels really good.” 

Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh. 

“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him. 

“Yeah.” 

It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly. 

Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control. 

“Is this OK?” 

“Yeah. Please.” 

Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.

The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain. 

“Shit, they are pierced.” 

It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery. 

Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.

“Fuuuuck Eddie.” 

“Yeah?” 

His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.

“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.” 

Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together. 

“Can- can I kiss you?” 

His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond. 

“I'd be mad if you didn't.” 

Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.

“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.” 

“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!” 

You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he. 

Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone. 

“Eddie?” 

He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off. 

There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side. 

“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.” 

The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention. 

Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything. 

“Eddie, please, I need you.” 

“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.” 

“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ” 

He laughs, cutting off your sentence. 

“Alright baby girl, I got you.” 

Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts. 

Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out. 

“Hearts? Cute.” 

Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet. 

Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like? 

A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately. 

Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it. 

He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-

“Oh God, oh fuck!” 

Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither. 

It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own. 

As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop. 

As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you. 

There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.

Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land. 

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”

“I know.”

You laugh, tapping his side.

“Cocky.”

“Confident.”

Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.

“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”

“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck. 

Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.

“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.” 

You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!” 

Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh. 

After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency. 

More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his- 

“Holy hell!” 

His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.

“You're huge Eddie!” 

He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged  by your palm. 

“Bet you say that to all the guys.”

“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.” 

You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension. 

“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-” 

“Now who's begging?” 

Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan. 

You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear. 

“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”

You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story. 

“You're not my dealer.” 

“Oh really? I'm not?” 

Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.

“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”

Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.

“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.” 

Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.

“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?” 

His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold. 

“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!” 

Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe. 

“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.” 

“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.” 

“Yeah?” 

Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah.”

Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions. 

“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?” 

“Maybe just a little.” 

Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass. 

“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!” 

You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.

“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!” 

His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length. 

“I can't, I’m-  baby girl-” 

“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!” 

Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension. 

As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding. 

“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.

“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say. 

You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check. 

You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet. 

“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.” 

“Yeah?”

‘Yeah.”

His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined. 

Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair. 

“Baby girl, you can't just-” 

“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?” 

Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans. 

“Knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.” 

Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh. 

“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?” 

Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.

“Next time?” 

“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.” 

Stupid Rick and his stupid strain. 

“Best you've ever had?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Only if you wanna.” 

The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing. 

At least for now… 

Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)

@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson

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— beybaldes's masterlist !!

eddie roundtree !!

the woman that loves you (boy you're such a fool)

they long to be (close to you)

don't let it burn (don't let it fade)

all I know of love is how to live without it p2 (i just can't seem to find it)

gold dust woman

yesterday once more

some word today from my boyfriend so far away

goodbye to love

social media au 1 2

warren rojas !!

and wouldn't you love to love her?

back again (just like a long lost friend)

rainy days and mondays

the lovers, the dreamers and me

your love's put me at the top of the world

social media au 1

graham dunne !!

maybe you can’t see how much you mean to me

i’ve acted out my love on stages with 10,000 people watching

social media au 1 2

̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇

roy kent !!

it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know

the twitter verse - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft

and somehow I know that you and I would’ve found eachother

jamie tartt !!

the heartbreak prince coming soon!!

̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇

simon aumar !!

that which you cannot see

that which you cannot here coming soon!!

suck the rot right out of my bloodstream coming soon!!

̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇

detective abe !!

the prying hands of choice

a love never flourished

somewhere, somehow

̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇

sejanus plinth!!

one single threat of gold tied me to you

I swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea

of the goodness, love, I still carry for you

and wouldn't you love to love her?

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

djats masterlist

Word Count : 2.1k

Summary : basically my fic they long to be (close to you) with a warren!ending. OR the one where Warren reveals he can't sleep without you anymore.

Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered your fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more warren fics xoxo

Moving to LA had been much more isolating then you'd ever thought it'd be. Sure, you'd moved with there with some of your closest friends, but it still felt harrowingly lonely compared to what you were used to in Pittsburgh. In your small hometown, everyone knew everyone, so wherever you went, you saw someone you knew - here, in LA, you felt lucky to accidentally make eye contact with a stranger on the street.

Warren was the number one person happy to fill the needed affection you often sought out since moving to LA. He, himself, was quite the lover - always one to take a cuddle and hold onto a hug for way longer then most would deem appropriate - which was exactly what you needed. The two of you had spent many nights in bed together in LA just for the company of it, and not that you didn't like it, you just wished it was with someone else, instead.

"You coming to bed, sweet girl?" Warren asked with a tired drawl to his words, extending a hand out to you while the other held the remainder of his joint to his lips.

"In a little." You hummed back, taking a hit out the joint he offered out to you, the joint being held to your lips by Warren instead of taking it into your own hands. "I'm not tired enough to sleep."

Warren pulled the joint back to his lips, his other hand coming to brush your hair out of your eyes and behind your ear, his hand resting against your hair and keeping you tucked in the crook of his neck. "You want me to wait up with you? Or you can come keep my company? I'll put on some Fleetwood Mac, it'll help you sleep, baby girl."

That was another thing that you missed about Pittsburgh; the constant nicknames you let the others call you. Back in Pittsburgh, everyone had some kind of name to call you except the one you were born with. Now? Karen called you sweet-pea, Eddie called you birdie, Camilla called you sunshine as did Graham and even Billy, but Warren? Warren called you whatever he liked; sweet girl, baby girl, baby, doll, his.

"No, it's okay Warren, you go to bed." Warren scooped you up in his arms, placing you down in the spot next to Graham who had already opened up his blanket for you, then pressed a kiss to your cheek. "I'll leave the door open for you."

You let your head fall to Graham's shoulder, who pulled his arm out from between the two of you and wrapped it over the back of the sofa. He allowed you to tangle your legs up in his pyjama covered ones, making sure you were comfortable before he turned his attention back to the tv screen.

"You and Warren are sleeping together?" Karen had been the one brave enough to ask, the conversation between the two of you not unnoticed by the rest of the group - it being the only thing to break the silence in the past 40 minutes. 

All heads turned to you, attention suddenly on something that had the potential to be more interesting then the rerun of Scooby-doo that had just started. "Not like that." You answered softly, eyes still focused on the cartoon dog and his gang on friends, not noticing how everyone else was now looking at you. "We both just like the company of it. I don't think either of us realised how lonely it would be coming out to LA."

"Cute." Camilla mused, a warm smile curling on her lips as she took in that even in your sleep you were reaching out for the touch and warmth of someone else.

"You're always welcome in my bed, sweet-pea." Karen added, a smile curling on her own lips as she managed to take your attention away from the tv. "I swear you run cold. Would be nice in the LA heat."

"You can't steal my blanket buddy." Graham gasped, pulling you tighter against him and furiously tucking the blanket around the two of you. "She's the perfect amount of cold. The windows open, with the blanket, with y/n is the perfect temperature for me."

"I'm going to have to pass on that one Karen, unless you want to come down to my room." You countered her offer with a soft smile, attention moving back to the tv once more. "Warren says your room is haunted."

Laughter spread through out the room as you sided with Warren even in his absence; he was so sweet to you, and that's what friends do, so how could you not?

"What?" You asked, laughing yourself. "We left it empty until your arrival for a reason." That caused another round of laughter to break out in the room, everyone enjoying the way the two of you were slowly but surely morphing into one person with the more time you spent confined in the LA rental.

A particularly loud shout of "scoob!" from the TV had everyone's attention turned back to the cartoon, letting the nature of your relationship with Warren lie for at least the time being.

By the end of the third episode, only you, Graham and Eddie remained in the room. Graham was fast asleep, his head leaning against yours making you trapped in his hold, and Eddie was sat in the armchair against the wall, legs curled into the seat and a bottle of warm beer in his hands that he'd been nursing for the last half an hour.

As the intro to the next rerun of Scooby-doo blasted from the TV, Graham startled awake, literally jumping out of his seat and pulling the blanket with him. He grumbled some attempt at what you thought was a goodnight, and stumbled sleepily out of the room, the warmth of him and the blanket leaving you alone on the couch.

Eddie got up from his seat without a word, joining you on the couch with his arm stretched over your shoulders and across the back of the couch cushions.

"I know you like him." Eddie teased, letting his arm fall around you and pull you into his side. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over the two of you, trying to keep you warm now that Graham had stolen your provisos blanket. "I can tell, I think we all can."

"Everyone except Warren, I guess." You complained, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, taking the warm beer he held in his hands and having a sip of it.

"He likes you too you know." Eddie laughed at the face of disbelief you pulled, taking the beer back from you to have another sip for himself. "All I'm saying is, you don't see me in his bed every night, and he likes me just fine."

You hummed into him, tucking your head away from the light of the tv screen, thinking about what Eddie was suggesting. His fingers moved to run through your hair, soothing you to sleep even if he hadn't meant to.

It wouldn't be the first time you had ended up in this predicament, you and Eddie cuddled up together on a couch in someone's living room, the night having gotten away from you. But it was the first time since coming to LA, the first time since you'd basically moved into Warren's bed, and if it weren't for the fact you were already half asleep, you would've felt sick about it.

Eddie wasn't far behind you when it came to falling asleep, his fingers shortly stilling and beer left half drank and held loosely between his fingers.

As people slowly began to filter into the living room the following morning, you made yourself plenty comfortable in Eddie's lap - instead of taking up the whole couch - allowing him to wrap an arm around your waist and hold you up and against him by your thighs. You lazily tuned into the conversation everyone else seemed to be having, mainly focused on eating the bowl of cereal Camilla had given you and the feeling of Eddie's fingers toying with the hem of your shorts. Picking up another spoonful of food, you offered him a mouthful, him taking it with a grateful smile.

"I thought you and Warren were sleeping together?" Billy asked, gesturing at you and Eddie with the tip of his spoon accusingly.

"And I thought we discussed this last night." You deflected with a shrug. Everyone apparently knew of your feelings for the curly haired brunette according to Eddie, but that didn't mean you had to admit them to them. It would only give them more ammunition to tease you with anyways. "Me and Ed's stayed out here last night, tried to stay up watching scooby-doo but failed, that's all."

"You and Ed's, huh." Graham asked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"You're just jealous that she doesn't have a cute nickname for you." Eddie spat back, quickly coming to your defence as you offered him another bite of your cereal.

Scanning your eyes around the room, you took notice of the lack of a certain member of the sixes presence. "Where is Warren, actually?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Graham teased, earning a smack on the chest from Eddie who came to your defence as you left the room, leaving him with your cereal and an unusually rowdy Graham.

You crept into Warren's room, quiet as a mouse, hoping not to wake him up as you made your own way to bed. Despite your claim last night, you headed over first to the record player in the corner, pulling out your Fleetwood Mac vinyl and skipping to where Rhiannon should start. Turing the volume down enough that it wouldn't go outside the room but would reach you from Warren's bed. Cracking open the window just enough to let in a cool breeze, you finally got into what had become your side of Warren's bed.

No sooner then you'd lied down and turned on your side to slowly wake him, Warren was cosying himself into your side, nuzzling into your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you, intertwining your fingers.

"I didn't mean to wake you, m'sorry." You murmured, wiggling your arm out of his hold to wrap it over him, tangling your fingers in his mess of curls. You scratched gently at his scalp, Warren preening into your touch, yearning for it. "Well I did actually, but not like this, it's nearly 9."

"You didn't wake me, sweet girl." He purred, pressing a kiss, then another, then another to your shoulder. "Can't sleep without you, just been sat here all night trying to."

"Warren." You whined, shuffling to face him better at his confession. "You should've said so. I would've come with you when you first asked. You could've come to get me."

"I didn't want you to think I was needy." He whispered, avoiding your eyes as he busied himself in trying to get comfy now that you were in his arms again. "Plus, when I did come out to get you, you seemed pretty cosy with Eddie."

"We just fell asleep watching tv, that's all." You promised, feeling as a smile creeped onto Warren's face at your admission. "Nothing else. If I didn't have the blanket I would've come here, to you. I promise."

"You're here now, baby girl. That's all that matters to me." Warren was already dropping asleep, his need for it catching up quickly now that your presence was beside him, now that he was safe in your arms. "All that matters."

At your lack of response, Warren began to move, exhibiting the most life you'd seen in him since you'd walked into the room minutes ago. "C'mere hot stuff." Warren opened his arms to you, letting you shuffle down until your head rested against his chest and your arms were wrapped under his, going up his back and holding onto his shoulders from behind.

You gently scratched your fingers up and down his back, lulling him to sleep just as he was lulling you sleep with the soothing circles he was rubbing into your hip. You were quick to fall asleep again in his hold, as you did every night in Warren's bed, as did Warren, who, like he'd just admitted, couldn't sleep without you in his arms.

Light On

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon has a new neighbor. His new neighbor has a baby.

Simon Riley/female reader Single mom, neighbors fic. Fics are listed in chronological order

Simon discovers something unexpected Simon realizes where you live Simon gives you a hand Simon comes over for dinner Simon eavesdrops Simon spends time in the garden Johnny learns his LT's secret Simon helps you out last minute Simon gets a phone call Simon accompanies you to the park Simon steps in Simon answers the phone in the middle of the night Simon learns something about you You miss your neighbor Simon's choice has consequences

Been thinking about Price with an oral fixation and just wants his mouth on your clit or sucking your nipples or sucking on your fingers. Like he literally smokes a cigar so the oral fixation is RIGHT THERE!!! What are your thoughts on it?

So in my mind I think of oral fixation with Johnny but anon you are so right!!!

Neither you nor Price really pick up on it despite how often he's reaching for a smoke. It's not until you get fed up with his whining attempts to get your attention when you're trying to read and you stick your fingers in his mouth to silence him that it becomes apparent.

It's like a switch has gone off in his brain and now his mouth is constantly on you. LOVES just pulling your nipples into his mouth, lavishing them with his tongue and teeth even in nonsexual settings.

He's read that stimulating breasts can cause lactation even if not pregnant so if you're afab and comfortable with him doing so then best believe that's the ultimate goal he's working towards.

When you get fed up with his smoking and worried for his health you start giving him your fingers, chest, or anything else to suck on really. And if you catch him smoking then he gets deprived of it :((

Yours, Half-Truthfully

A Sam Kiszka x f!OC fic

Synopsis: Sam never had an issue with girls before. Yes, I watched them come and go for a while since I was his best friend, but the most recent one seemed like a keeper. So when Sam started acting weird when she was brought up, I knew something was off. You can’t know him as long as I have and not notice it - but apparently his brothers didn’t. So it was up to me to figure out how to fix him before the family vacation he was supposed to take with her so he stops being weird around them. And me.

18+

Coming soon ◡̈

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

Simon Riley masterlist

Main masterlist - AO3

18+ Minors DNI

Sassy - series - complete He didn't know your name. You never saw his face. Simon x female reader

Dead Disco - chaptered fic - ongoing You should have gotten out. Ghost x Soap x female reader Simple Math - chaptered fic - ongoing You had a plan, but never could have anticipated… this. Ghost x Soap x female reader It Will Come Back There is a darkness that creeps and crawls from all of us. Simon x female reader Mermaids- one shot- 8.2k words “And with your mermaid hair and your teeth so sharp, you crawled from the sea to break that sailor’s heart” - F+TM Simon x mermaid!reader Happy Hunting - one shot - 4.1k words “Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance." - Mark Z. Danielewski Simon x female reader Black Sun - 5.3k words Simon never wanted a divorce Simon x female reader Blurb Light on - series Simon has a new neighbor. His neighbor has a baby. The Maze - tba "Somebody said it's unspeakable love." - Manchester Orchestra Simon Riley x female reader

Duality - TBD Simon loves you. Ghost does not. Simon/Ghost x female reader Blurb

Musings: Ex boyfriend Reaper Silver tongue and scythe Sugar Daddy AU Alternate universe rambling

inhale/exhale. || josh kiszka x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: You help Josh work out his frustration when he’s had a rough day at the studio. || Standalone fic in the Cabin Fever universe

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Fiancée!Reader | Genre: smut, porn without plot; minors begone! | Word Count: 1.5k | Warnings: smut (piv, oral [f receiving], unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, spanking, dirty talk, filth)

A/N: Those pictures Josh posted to his insta made me (and therefore Baby) Josh’s bitch. That’s all there is to it. I’m simply a whore, and I hope you enjoy me being feral on main about this man ♡

“Bend over.”

You couldn’t do anything but watch as Josh made quick work of his belt and zipper, the sound of it almost obscene as it filled the otherwise quiet studio. When he noticed you hadn’t moved to do as he said, he gave you a dark look.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, baby,” he said. “Bend over.”

Your mouth went dry. “W-where?”

“That amp will do just fine.”

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