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hazelfoureyes · 28 days

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A Doe in Fall (part 7)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

Part 7 Recognition

It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」

I think I fixed the broken tag list!

....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross. thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link> unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?

Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗

A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.

But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.

No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.

Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.

But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.

The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.

But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.

So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.

Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.

“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.

“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.

“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”

He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”

Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)

Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.

“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”

The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”

“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”

“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”

“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.

“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.

“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”

Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.

Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.

But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?

He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.

Or the wrong person.

Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.

Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.

A record Brady could claim.

When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”

Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”

“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”

“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”

“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”

With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”

“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”

That’d be ideal.

A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.

Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”

“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.

He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”

“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”

The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”

Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I never said sorry.”

You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.

“For what?”

He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”

You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.

Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?

“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”

Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.

You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.

But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”

Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”

His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”

You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”

“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”

You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”

Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.

When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.

A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.

Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.

Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.

You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.

“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”

His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.

The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.

“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”

Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”

Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.

You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.

Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.

And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.

It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.

But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.

When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.

“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”

He asked her why she couldn’t have both.

“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”

He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”

It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?

He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.

“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.

Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.

“Do you know who I am?”

Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”

Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.

“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.

He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.

Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.

Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.

“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.

“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”

When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.

Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?

What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?

You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.

He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”

“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.

He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.

“Hush.” You cooed.

You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.

As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.

He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”

Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”

His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.

Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.

“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.

You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.

“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”

Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.

“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.

He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.

“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.

“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”

When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.

His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.

Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.

For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.

So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.

He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?

“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.

An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.

You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Something like that, yeah.”

His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.

You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.

And you liked him

You appreciated him.

He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.

Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.

Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.

When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.

You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.

“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.

“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.

Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.

“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.

Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.

He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.

When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.

When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.

He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.

You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.

He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.

“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.

“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.

A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.

Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.

Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.

Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.

The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.

Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.

When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.

And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.

Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.

But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.

Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?

When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.

He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.

As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.

You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”

Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.

He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.

You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”

“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”

His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”

Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”

A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”

You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.

While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.

“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”

But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.

A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”

With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.

Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.

He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.

As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.

Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”

Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”

“Tsk, wrong.”

Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.

Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.

“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.

Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.

“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”

You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.

“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.

It clicked, “Absolutely.”

You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.

As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.

He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.

But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.

“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”

“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”

A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.

You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”

He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”

A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.

Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.

Life changing decisions.

Decisions that filled empty homes.

Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?

When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.

When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”

He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”

Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”

“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)

“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”

He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”

“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)

Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.

Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.

A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.

When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.

You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.

Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.

No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos.

Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)

When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.

Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)

Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.

“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”

She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”

“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.

“Is she in some kinda trouble?”

“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”

Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”

He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”

Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)

He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.

“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”

Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”

Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)

“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”

She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)

As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.

Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.

Enough games.

When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.

Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.

James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.

When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.

Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.

“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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fanficimagery · 1 year

Text

The Lost Girl

You just wanted to travel and forget all about the drama you left behind. You didn't expect to fall in with four boys who would become another family. Maybe more.

[Part One of Three]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm- I'm alive? Surprise! I'm still in a bit of a pickle with where I want part two to go, but I figured if I post this now then I can't back out and delete it. I need your help, but I'll ask at the bottom so I won't spoil this.

Words: 7.9K

Santa Carla is the total opposite of Mystic Falls and you couldn't have loved it here more if you tried. You grew up with pageants and balls and trying to stay at the top of the popularity totem pole, but you secretly loathed every second of it. Not to mention your sister was a beacon for the supernatural, attracting vampires like no one's business, which eventually led to you getting caught in the crossfire and being turned at the ripe age of twenty.

Stefan Salvatore did his best to teach you how to feed and control your blood lust, but his techniques just weren't cutting it for you. So Damon took over, leading Bonnie, Matt, Elena, Jeremy, and Tyler deeming you untrustworthy. You don't know why they disliked your friendship with Damon so much, but their wariness of you only grew when you eventually befriended the Original Vampires that once sought to kill you, your family, and friends.

The last straw was when everyone started fighting over a cure for vampirism. They all thought there was enough of the cure to go around for all those who wanted it, but nope. There was only a single dose, and both Elena and Rebekah wanted it. So when you saw the lines being drawn, you packed a couple of bags and left to see the world.

The only person who knew of your travel plans were, surprisingly, Elijah and Klaus. Elijah was sad to see you go, especially since you were one of the only ones who he could trust, but Klaus was all for you seeing the world and experiencing life as you should have. You were more than content compelling your way through the trip, but the Mikaelson's were having none of that and gave you a card to use since they amassed a ridiculous amount of money over the years.

After deleting all social media, with the exception of a traveling Instagram account that was newly made, you bought a new phone and only gave your new number to Elijah and Klaus. You traveled abroad first, touring the most beautiful cities, museums, and seeing every landmark you could. You kept the Mikaelson brothers in the loop about everything that they sometimes surprised you by showing up for a week before flying back home.

For a year you saw all you could and then headed back to the States. You wanted nothing to do with Mystic Falls, Virginia, so you settled in California. Santa Carla was the most nitty gritty town you'd ever seen, and it was the last place anyone in your family would expect for you to stay in.

It was perfect.

With a new hotel having been built in Santa Carla, you compelled yourself one of the suites indefinitely. You didn't want to purchase a house in case you needed to up and leave, and having a housekeeper stop by weekly was perfect.

You stood out amongst the locals of Santa Carla, it seeming like everyone walking around either had some crazy hairstyle, hair color, or numerous piercings. And then there was you, skin untouched and the only piercings you had being those in your ears.

So after a week of settling in and compelling those who needed compelling, you finally decided to hit the infamous boardwalk.

The boardwalk, for some reason, feels like you've stepped into the past. Could be because of the music playing or the way everyone dressed, but you know you didn't actually slip into the past given the cell phones in people's hands or air pods in people's ears. The bells, whistles, and flashing lights make you giddy, taking you back to a time when you were excited as a child to be attending the annual fair Mystic Falls put on, but the attendees were the total opposites of those you'd find in Mystic Falls.

The employees in charge of the various game booths attempt to entice you to play, but you rather spend your cash at the crafts section of the boardwalk. There was no use in paying for a rigged game that made sure you lost ninety percent of the time when you could buy handmade crafts and help support someone's living.

After buying some handmade jewelry and a couple of shirts, you decide to eat. There's a Chinese place that smells marvelous as you stroll by, so you turn back around and enter the establishment. And then almost as soon as you're seated, a waitress comes by to take your drink order. You quickly skim the menu as she gets your drink, then order a bowl of Hot and Sour soup, a plate of Chicken LoMein, two egg rolls, and a pan of fried dumplings. The waitress seems impressed, and you merely laugh it off before sipping your Coke.

As you wait for your food, you grab a napkin and start ripping it apart piece by piece as you stare out the window you'd chosen to sit by. People pass by, uncaring for what's going on in the small restaurant, but then there are two boys that you just so happen to clash gazes with. Both fit with the eighties aesthetic- one with wildly tamed blonde hair that only a true rocker could pull off and the other with a dirty blonde, curly mullet. Both hairstyles are wildly out of place, even if they're trying to make a comeback now, but fortunately for the boys they can pull it off.

"Hey, chika, you want some company?" The blonde with the teased hair shouts so you can hear him through the window.

Holding back a wince at his loud volume, you shake your head. "Maybe next time!"

"Aw. Come on, babe. You're breaking my heart!" He pouts, even as his friend smirks behind his fist.

You shrug, grinning, but are saved from having to interact any further when the waitress appears with your food. As the food is set in front of you and you thank her, you glance at the boys one last time while giving them a wink before digging in.

You casually devour your food bit by bit, asking for a refill on your Coke only once. Then when you've had your fill, you ask for your leftovers to be boxed up. And as you walk outside, you hand said leftovers to a couple of teens digging through a trash can.

Walking around, you soak in the night time atmosphere. The sweat from the humans and the oil used to deep fry all sorts of food is rather distracting from the ocean scented air wafting in, but none of it is as distracting as the copper smell you pick up on one particular gust of wind. There doesn't seem to be any panic-induced mayhem on the boardwalk, so you figure someone must have cut themselves and is getting bandaged up.

A diner further down the boardwalk advertises milkshakes on its main window, and suddenly a strawberry milkshake sounds superb. So after making a quick trip inside to secure yourself a milkshake, you're back on the boardwalk once again.

No one has bothered you the entire time, but the moment you perch yourself on the railing to sip and people watch, one confident individual saunters towards you. It hardly takes you two seconds to realize this individual is in his teens obviously thinking you're a teen as well. But given you were twenty when you were turned and have spent a few years undead, you're so not interested in whatever this boy has to offer.

Before the individual can open his mouth, you hold a hand up to stall him and shake your head. "Stop right there. Not interested."

The boy's expression drops into shock before quickly morphing back into his too confident persona. "Aw, come on, girl. You look like you're in need of some fun."

"I am, but you need to be at least this tall-" you say while holding your free hand at least a foot above his head, "-for me to ride that ride."

There's a snort to your right, but you ignore it, even ignoring the presence that jumps onto the railing next to you before sliding their arm around your shoulder. "Sorry, kid. Maybe the next girl you hit on won't have a height requirement."

There's even more laughter and the boy rethinks his approach before scoffing and leaving. You grin, wrapping your lips around the straw of your milkshake and turning your head to your new companions. "Blondies one and two," you muse. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Just thought we'd play knight in shining armor," blondie one says. "I'm Paul. My friend is Marko."

"YN.."

Paul practically vibrates with energy. "So do I meet your height requirements?"

You laugh, uncaring when he steals your milkshake to sip from. "You may meet the height requirement, but I don't go for blondes. Sorry."

"Aw, chika, you wound me!" He feigns his hurt, holding a hand to his heart as you take your milkshake back. Marko can only laugh, shoving at his friend's shoulder when he leans a little too far his way. Once he corrects himself, he doesn't remove himself from your side. "So what's a pretty girl like you doing here all alone? Waiting for friends? Family?"

"Ugh, no." Your nose wrinkles. "Too much family drama for my tastes so I've been traveling the world for a little over a year now. Santa Carla seems like the least likely of places my family would think to look for me, so I'm staying as long as I can."

Marko seems interested as he leans around Paul to ask, "What's been your favorite place so far?"

"Tromsø, Norway," you reply.

"Why?"

"Because ever since I was a little girl, I've been obsessed with the aurora borealis. It's the best place to view it."

"Cool."

"Where are you staying?" Paul asks. "Maybe we can have a party one of these nights."

"Doubtful. I'm staying in a hotel suite and I have a feeling partying with you would lead to my place being trashed. No thanks."

Marko smirks. "Smart girl."

You grin and sip your milkshake as Marko comes around to lean against the railing on your other side. They ask some more about the places you've been, and you don't know what comes over you that you feel comfortable enough with these two to regale them with your tales of travel. In return, Marko and Paul tell you about themselves and their two other brothers. They tell you that they're all not originally from Santa Carla, but ended up finding each other throughout the years and made their own family unit in town.

Then just as you hop down to throw away your empty cup, the crowd seems to part as two individuals approach. Another blondie with a mullet and a brunette whose hair is almost as wild as Paul's. You can't tear your eyes from the brunette who is all too comfortable going shirtless with nothing but a weathered leather jacket hanging off his frame and some snug fitting jeans.

"Oh, I see how it is." Paul muses in your ear. "You like 'em dark haired."

You throw your elbow back, tearing your gaze away from the brunette in front of you to smirk over your shoulder at Paul when he grunts. Marko snickers at his brother's misfortune. "YN, this is David and Dwayne."

Both the new blondie and brunette nod at you, and you flash them back a faint smile. You're quick to toss your trash, then head back to your new friends. "Well, it was nice meeting you boys, but I should get going."

"Aw, come on, girlie. Hang for a bit more," Paul pleads, but you shake your head.

"Maybe next time."

"Will there actually be a next time or are you gently letting us down?" Marko wonders.

Your eyes roll. "We've only just met and you're already clingy?" You tut at him. Marko gapes and you wink at him. "Yes, there will be a next time. At least there will be if we cross paths again."

"We'll take that," Paul says. He slings an arm around Marko and smiles. "See you around, girlie."

The next afternoon, you decide to have some fun in the sun. You spend the early afternoon in your room, ordering room service and having a nice steak and fry lunch. While eating, you post a few pictures you snapped of the boardwalk nightlife, ferris wheel, and carousel all lit up. Then afterwards, you dress in a bikini before pulling on a pair of jeans shorts and a tank top. Only after slipping your feet into a pair of flip-flops do you pack a backpack with a beach towel, your phone, sunglasses, and some cash before taking your leave.

You're surprised to find that the beach isn't packed, so you pick a spot on the beach to lay out your towel and backpack. You spend a bit of time searching for sand dollars and shells, then go swimming in the ocean. Afterwards, you lay out on your towel with your sunglasses shielding your eyes. You doze on and off, and then just as the sun is setting you start to get up.

Shaking off your beach towel, you get rid of all the sand before folding it and shoving it into your backpack with your clothes. Then heading over to the beach showers, you rinse off all the sand and ocean water, and let yourself dry in the lingering sun rays before slipping your shorts back on.

In the middle of choosing what to eat, you hear catcalls and wolf whistles. You try to ignore it, hoping they're directed to someone else, but nope. They're directed at you. However, when you turn to glare and give the boys a piece of your mind, you find Paul and Marko beaming at you with their other brothers Dwayne and David just watching on.

Your glare vanishes and you roll your eyes as you slowly untense. "Do you guys have nothing better to do than check out girls on the boardwalk?"

"Nope." Paul hops off his bike and practically skips towards you. "What are you doing?"

"Heading to dinner. I spent most of the day on the beach so I'm starving."

"Ohhhh. What are we having?"

"I'm having pizza and wings. If you want to tag along, you buy your own."

"Done." He turns around and shouts, "Come on, boys. We're getting pizza!"

You shake your head and greet Marko when he approaches, smiling at the other two who have yet to speak up. Paul takes the lead and you walk side by side with Marko. The pizza place isn't far and you all head inside. You place your order first- a medium Hawaiian and a side order of boneless honey bbq wings. You accept your number tag after paying and then wait for your new friends to order as well. Then once they've got their own number tag, Paul leads the way to a large booth meant for a large group at the back.

Paul and Marko slide into opposite sides of the booth, and it only takes you a second to scoot in next to Marko before placing your bag at your feet. Paul gasps and you chuckle. "What? Marko seems less likely to continuously elbow me as I try to eat."

"That's cold, girl."

You wink at Paul and are surprised when Dwayne scoots in on your other side. David settles in next to Paul and his ice blue eyes practically pierce you. "So what's a girl like you doing out here all alone?"

"You mean Paul didn't tell you?"

"I'm asking you."

The coolness of his voice makes you arch an eyebrow at him, but Paul's snickering keeps you at ease. So in the end, you shrug. "My siblings and I weren't seeing eye to eye for a while. I had some money put away to take a trip out of the States, but my new found family wasn't having any of that and gave me access to their money. I've traveled for a year before coming back, staying in a place furthest from my hometown."

"Parents?"

"Dead." Paul's smile falters and you kick him under the table. "None of that. It's been a while. It's fine."

"How did it happen?" Marko asks.

You face him briefly before saying, "My sister had a fight with her boyfriend and asked our parents to pick her up from a party. They did, but on the way back home my dad somehow lost control of the car and drove off a bridge. A bystander found them, but by the time he dove under water, my dad made the bystander get my sister out first. My parents ended up drowning."

"Do you have plans on returning?"

"Eventually." Just then a waitress stops by to deliver your drinks. You grin as Paul immediately starts flirting, sipping your Coke as the waitress blushes and stutters before leaving. "These poor Santa Carla girls have no idea how to handle you, do they?"

"Not a clue."

As Marko and Paul laugh, you shake your head rather fondly. You don't know what it is about this group that makes you feel at ease with them, but you're glad to have some people to talk to while you're in town. Another group enters the establishment, a little unruly as they find themselves a table. One of them catches your gaze and you grimace when you notice him leering at you.

Feeling a little exposed, you reach for your bag under the table and pull free your tank top. You quickly pull it on and then free your phone while waiting for your food, not paying much attention to Dwayne who's shifting in his seat next to you. You do, however, notice when something is dropped on your shoulders and realize Dwayne has given up his jacket.

You freeze and quickly glance up at Dwayne, taking a moment to stare at all the bronze skin now on display, but his glare is directed at the table of troublemakers who are snickering among each other. "Uhh.."

"Just wear it."

"Okay."

Those are the first three words Dwayne has spoken to you and you absolutely do not shiver at the sound of his voice. Paul, Marko, and even David sense something else and you flip them off after slipping your arms through the sleeves of Dwayne's jacket. Then just as you go to sip on your drink, your phone starts ringing with a video call.

Big Bad Wolf, complete with a wolf emoji, is stamped across the top of your phone above a picture of a smirking Klaus. "Uhh, do you guys mind if I accept this?"

"Go ahead, girlie."

You accept the call, keeping it so that only you're on screen. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to talk to me, love?" You roll your eyes, grinning, and Klaus chuckles. "What are you doing?"

"Uhh, I'm out to dinner with some new friends," you say.

"You've already made friends?"

"Mhm. Look." You turn so Marko is in frame. "This is Marko." Marko grins and nods. Then you flip the camera and catch Paul. "This is Paul and David is next to him, but David is glaring at me. I'm pretty sure he'd kill me if I put him on camera."

Klaus chuckles. "Fair enough."

"And then this.." You glance at Dwayne, but he merely arches an eyebrow at you. You grin and turn the camera on him. "This is Dwayne."

A split second later and then, "No."

"W-What?" You splutter. Paul and Marko choke on a laugh, and finally both David and Dwayne smirk. "What do you mean no?"

"Elijah!"

Your eyes widen. "Why are you calling 'lijah? Don't call 'lijah!"

Elijah appears next to Klaus and you groan. "Go on, sweetheart. Put your friend on."

"Marko? Or Paul?"

"Don't play dumb."

You grumble and put Dwayne on camera. "Absolutely not," Elijah says.

"You guys are embarrassing," you grumble. "He's literally only said three words to me."

"Mhm. And whose jacket are you wearing?" Klaus asks.

You pout. "I hate you." Just then you catch sight of two waitresses coming with your pizza. "Oh, look. Food's here! I'll talk to you gentlemen later."

"YN-"

"I'm fine, Klaus. I'm okay and I'm happy. I promise."

"Well okay then. Call me back when you get to your room."

"Will do, big bad wolf. Talk to you later."

You end the call just as a pizza is being placed in front of Paul and Marko, then yours is placed in front of you, and then another is placed in front of David and Dwayne. You're handed your boneless wings, and you happily wiggle in your seat. You're starving!

After you take your first bite of the sweet Hawaiian pizza, David asks, "So was that your boyfriend?"

"Ew. No." Your nose wrinkles and you quickly swallow your bite of food. "Klaus and Elijah are like my older brothers. They're the two who are funding my whole trip."

"They sound fancy with those posh accents of theirs," Paul muses.

"They are fancy," you admit. "They host balls and everything. I seriously hated wearing those dresses with a poofy skirt. They're so uncomfortable to sit in."

"No way!" Paul laughs.

"Mhm. Look."

As you eat some more of your food one-handed, you open the photos app on your phone and seek out the album from all the parties you attended. You hand your phone over to Paul, and Marko actually leans across the table to get a glimpse of the life you left behind.

As the two of them swipe picture after picture, laughing, you eat in peace. You even crack a grin when Dwayne picks off your tray of boneless wings, chuckling when he tells you it's payment for wearing his jacket. You end up having to tell the boys who is who every time they ask and deny any romantic relationship accusations when a picture of you dancing with Damon pops up. You admit he was a good friend up until his feelings for your sister clouded his judgment and you'd had enough of their drama.

Dinner proceeds uninterrupted, but it's when you get up to leave that the table of troublemakers from earlier causes an issue. With Dwayne's jacket returned to him, you follow the group as David leads the way out. You've just passed the table of leering individuals when a loud smack! resonates in the room and a brief stinging pain blossoms on your butt. You freeze, your new friends freeze, and then you're whirling around to glare at the culprit. You slowly look at the smug individual as his friends cackle like morons.

Anger flaring, your hand whips out and grasps the guy by the back of the neck. You slam his head down onto the table, causing him to grunt and his friends to fall quiet. You lean down so your mouth is next to his ear and grit out, "Touch me again and I'll rip your fucking throat out." You put pressure on his neck, causing the table to groan under the weight of the pressure. "With my teeth," you hiss. Pushing off the too quiet guy and facing your new friends once more, you shrug. "What?"

David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul just stare at you before chuckling.

"You're scary, girl. I like it."

With a roll of your eyes, you step forward and push past Paul. "Come on. Show me what Santa Carla has to offer."

Over the course of a week, you hang out with who the locals have dubbed the Lost Boys. Paul and Marko treat you like a long lost best friend, Dwayne has taken to hovering over your shoulder, and David is pretty indifferent to your presence although he will stand up for you if need be. Your senses tell you there's something off about the boys, but you don't realize what it is until you scent the coppery fragrance of blood coming off of them one night they're late to meet you.

If they're vampires, they must be vampires who don't know who the Mikaelsons are because none of them recognized the family in your pictures. But you don't call them out, nor do you hint about yourself, at least not until you're walking on the beach one night and your senses are assaulted with the scent of a lot of blood and screams off in the distance.

Glancing around, you notice the boardwalk is empty and shutting down. The beach where you're at is empty as well, and as you speed towards the sound of terror, your suspicions are proven correct about the Lost Boys.

They're unlike any vampires you've seen, more brutal in their feeding than even the Big Bad Hybrid himself. Their vampire visages showcase a true monster, but for some reason it doesn't bother you as it probably should. They're sinking their fangs into necks, shoulders, torsos, and even skulls, laughing all the while their victims scream in horror.

In their feeding frenzy, they don't notice you standing just on the outskirts of the firelight. Limbs are ripped from bodies before being tossed into the fire, blood spraying carelessly across the sand. But the moment the frenzy dies down, you can't help but make an entrance.

Slowly clapping, you smirk as all four vampires freeze and turn towards you as you walk into the light. David snarls, his monstrous face still on display as Paul and Marko quickly change their features. Their expressions are a bit crestfallen as you continue to find amusement in this situation, so you walk towards Dwayne who has gone stoic. "I get the bloodlust, but do you guys have to be such messy eaters? Gross." You wrinkle your nose as you kick an arm into the raging fire.

"W-What?" Paul splutters.

Looking back at Dwayne, you reach over and run a finger through the blood staining his chest. Then popping that same finger into your mouth, you wrap your tongue around your finger and savor the fresh blood now coating your tongue. You feel the veins beneath your eyes slither to the surface and your fangs elongate in your mouth. Then meeting Dwayne's gaze, you flash him a fangy grin. "I prefer to compel, eat, and release, but you do you I guess."

"Holy shit. You- you're a vampire?!"

Meeting Marko's stunned expression, you wink.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," David says.

"Sure." You meet his now ice-blue gaze. "But only after you clean up after yourselves. This," you say while gesturing to their dismembered victims, "is sloppy."

You watch as David oversees the cleanup of their little section of the beach, burning the bodies and kicking sand over the spilled blood. Afterwards, they all take a dip in the ocean to cleanse themselves of their meal.

On the way to their bikes which are parked just a bit down the beach, Paul asks, "So how old are you?"

"Which age are you referring to? The age I was when I was turned or how many years I've been a vampire?"

"Both."

"I was turned at twenty," you say, "and I've been a vampire for less than five years."

"No shit? How were you introduced to this world?"

"That.. is a very long story. Why don't we get someplace where I can actually tell it?"

As their bikes get nearer, you hiss at Paul when he pushes you in Dwayne's direction. Almost as if it was expected of you to ride with Dwayne, he settles on the seat of his bike before offering you a hand so you can situate yourself behind him.

Hanging on loosely, you enjoy the ride and take amusement in the sudden turns and jumps they take to try and startle you. But instead of being shaken, you merely laugh and pinch Dwayne's side when you're jostled too much.

The drive to the cliffs that you know to be Hudson's Bluff, overlooking the disgruntled sea, is rather short. You have a moment to glance down a rickety, wooden staircase before the group is driving down them one by one. You're jostled even more as the bike is driven over various rocks and through a gaping hole in the fence that's meant to keep trespassers out. They drive into a cave where the bikes are then parked, and you climb off to follow Paul down a very humid path.

Swiping cobwebs, vines, and roots out of the way, you're then led into a cavernous room. There are shafts of moonlight lighting up the space, and then Paul and Marko fire up barrels all around the space. The place is trashed, but you quickly realize it's not a normal cave. There's a sofa, chairs, and a broken water fountain. There's what appears to be a long counter- or was it a desk?- and a tattered portrait hanging behind it.

"What is this place?" You ask as you glance around in wonder. They obviously made it their own- seashells and broken CDs hanging from every place available, as well as hundreds of melted candles over every surface. You even spot a mattress, pillows, and blankets hidden behind some type of gauzy material.

"This was the hottest resort back in the day," David drawls. "Too bad they built it on a fault line though. When the big one hit San Francisco in 1906, this place took a header down into the ground when it split open. It's been our home ever since."

"Nice." You plop down on a couch, sighing as you stare at each boy. "So what do you wanna know?"

"Everything." David takes a seat on a wheelchair, staring right at you. "Start from the beginning."

"Fair enough. I was born and raised in Mystic Falls, Virginia to parents who ran their own business. I didn't want for anything and ended up being a letdown when I wasn't into pageants as my mother hoped I would be."

"Did your parents even die by drowning?" Marko asks.

"Yes. That was true," you tell him. "After their death, my aunt Jenna took in me, Elena, and Jeremy. Both my siblings grieved differently, but when the new school year started, my sister did a complete turnaround when Stefan Salvatore entered the picture."

"Why do I get the feeling this Salvatore dude is a major player in your story?" Paul asks.

"Because he is. Unbeknownst to any of us, Stefan Salvatore was vampire number one. He was drawn to Mystic Falls all because of my sister Elena."

"Why your sister?" Dwayne asks, startling you. He rarely spoke up, but when he did, you couldn't help but be drawn to him.

"Do you guys know what a doppelganger is?" At their nods, you explain. "Elena was the latest human doppelganger. The previous doppelganger, Katherine, toyed with two brothers back in 1864. The Salvatore brothers, to be exact."

"Shit." Paul giggles. "Talk about a vampire novella."

"Anyway, Katherine toyed with Damon's feelings and made him fall in love with her. When she tried the same with Stefan, he resisted so she compelled him to love her. And then when it came to light that there were many vampires in town, every vampire was rounded up, vervained, and anyone who associated with them were killed. As it just so happens, the Salvatore brothers' father found out his sons were romantically linked with Katherine, so he shot them. Unfortunately for him, Katherine had been feeding the boys her blood, so when they were killed, they didn't stay dead for long.

"Fast forward to the present time and both Salvatores are now salivating for the newest doppelganger. Only this time, Stefan has fallen in love with Elena without any compulsion, and so has Damon. Katherine's apparently been keeping tabs on the brothers and she's not happy that Elena has the love of the brothers."

David makes a motion with his hand to hurry you along. "How did you turn?"

"Katherine has made it her mission to make Elena's life a living hell, so what better way than to kill one of her best friends and older sister?"

Paul gapes. "You're joking."

"Nope. The crazy bitch fed me her blood before snapping my neck, then smothered Caroline who happened to have Damon's blood in her system. When we woke up in transition and fed on human blood to complete the transition, half of our friends turned on us. We had to rely on Damon and Stefan to teach us to control our bloodlust, but things were never the same. And to top it all off, learning to become a vampire was the least of our worries."

"What's more important than knowing you've died and have to kill people to survive?"

"How about that one of the Original vampires- who is over a thousand years old, by the way- needs the blood of a human doppelganger to break the curse on him, so he decides it's his turn to make your family's life hell as well?"

"Oh shit. What curse?" Paul asks.

You slowly smirk. "Niklaus Mikaelson is not just one of the original vampires, but he's the one and only original hybrid. He's half vampire, half wolf, and one of the most lethal individuals that still walks this earth."

The boys fall silent, but then Marko speaks up.

"Hold on. The dude funding your trip around the world is the same person who made your life a living hell?"

"Yep," you muse. "We were at each other's throats for the longest time, then his sister killed my sister which turned her into a vampire as well, and there was just a shit load more drama with doppelgangers, witches, werewolves, and hybrids." You shrug. "Elijah was never truly terrible, so I spoke more with him first, but then Klaus really took the brother role to heart. The Mikaelsons have kind of adopted me, and my siblings and friends didn't take too kindly to that. So, to avoid all the drama, I left. And now here I am."

For the rest of the late night and early morning, you answer all questions you can. Paul and Marko are interested to see the differences between you and them, but David and Dwayne are more interested in learning about the Original vampires and their unique differences. Their biggest hangup, however, is that the sun has no effect on you like it does them. Sure you both will catch on fire, but it doesn't pull you to sleep the day away like it does them. You're a bit jealous that they can fly, but you're so much faster than any of them.

The moment David mentions the impending sunrise is your cue to go, so you bid farewell to your friends before winking at Paul and disappearing before they can even blink.

For the next couple of days, you keep yourself busy by running some errands for Klaus. You meet with vampires and piss off a couple of werewolf packs, but all in all the work gets done. You hadn't been able to keep in touch with the Lost Boys, so Paul and Marko whoop in cheer when they spot you.

"Well if it isn't Miss Mystic Falls," Paul muses. "Where the hell have you been, chika?"

"Sorry. Sorry!" You lean against the railing in between the group, grimacing. "I had a few things to do and since you're all allergic to modern technology, I couldn't text or call."

"Anything we need to know about?" David wonders.

Normally you'd say no, but Santa Carla is his territory and you don't want any bad blood with him. "Not really. I had a few things to pick up for Klaus and a few messages to deliver to some werewolf packs up North."

David frowns. "There are packs nearby?"

"The closest one is fifty miles out, but they're all pretty scared of Klaus and what he can do so they stay in line. If there's anything to worry about, it's any lone wolves who decide to take shelter in the woods around Hudson's Bluff and don't give a flying fuck about the Original Hybrid."

"Pft. We can take on a rogue werewolf if need be," Paul says.

"You say that now, but you won't be saying much when you get bitten by one. Remember, werewolf bites are lethal to us vampires." Paul's smugness dims. "Now who's good to eat around here? I didn't have time to grab some blood bags from the hospital."

"Stay away from the Surf Nazis," Dwayne says.

"Surf Nazis? What the hell kind of name is that?" Your nose wrinkles in distaste.

"A name that they've had since the eighties," Marko says. "It just stuck because they're still a bunch of racist and bigoted pricks."

"Fair enough. So, if I can't eat them, who can I eat?"

All four boys readily scan the crowd, excited at the prospect of picking your dinner.

"Do you have a preference? Male or female?" David asks.

"No junkies and I'm good with either male or female."

After mere seconds, David already has his pick. "On your three. Group of guys keep glancing this way. I'm pretty sure they're not checking Marko out."

You subtly glance at them and figure any one of them is good enough. "Alright. Since you guys are intimidating as fuck, you're gonna say goodbye and go do your own thing. Whoever approaches me first is dinner."

"Boo. You're no fun." Paul's the first hop off his bike, giving you a side hug. "We'll be watching from the roof."

"Of course you will." You roll your eyes, laughing.

Marko winks at you as he follows after Paul, David nods at you, but it's Dwayne who makes you arch an eyebrow at him as he glares at the group of guys before leaving. You chuckle at the oddness of it all before shaking it off and then pulling out your phone to kill some time.

It doesn't take long at all for someone to approach you and you easily fall into the role of the lone human girl way too easily. You chat for a bit and find out he's in fact in college, on break for a week and just looking for some fun. You tell him you're taking a gap year, just passing through Santa Carla and was hoping for some fun as well. His lecherous grin lets him know you have him on the hook.

"Wanna take a ride on the ferris wheel?" He asks.

"I'll do you one better. I say we visit an alley away from prying eyes without giving any ride operators an eye full."

"Oh, fuck yes."

Smirking in triumph, you hop off the railing and grab up the guy's hand. You briefly meet his friends' gaze before winking at them, leading their friend off to what they think is going to be a very good time. For you it will be, but for him? Not so much.

Once at an alley that doesn't have much traffic passing by either end, you lure the guy inside. In the middle of the alley, you turn so your back is against the wall and let him grab you by the hips. But as you cradle his face before he kisses you, you meet his gaze and say, "Don't scream. Don't fight. This will be painless."

The guy goes quiet, and you let your face change before his very eyes. He tenses, but he stays stock still without uttering a peep. Then reaching around to grasp the hair at the back of his head, you angle his head so you can sink your fangs into his neck. You drink and drink, satiating your thirst while listening for the first skip of his heart. When you've had enough, you clean his neck wound of any blood and then prick your tongue with a fang to smear your own blood on the bite wound. It heals after a minute, and you pull back to meet his gaze once more.

"When you get back to your friends, you're gonna be smug but also a little bit let down. Admit I'm the greatest kisser you've ever had, but before we could get to any of the good stuff, we were interrupted by a homeless couple."

"We were interrupted by a homeless couple," he parrots back.

"Good boy. Now to make things more believable..." You slowly smirk before pulling him close, capturing his lips with your own.

The guy is shaken out of his compulsion and his arms wrap low around your waist to pull you even closer to him. You kiss him roughly to make sure his lips appear swollen and even muss his hair up. But the moment you reach under his shirt and rake your nails across his back, causing him to groan, you hear someone drop down beside you.

One second, you're enjoying a kiss and the next your victim is shoved away from you. Dwayne practically puts himself between you and your meal as he snarls, "Get. Lost."

The other individuals drop down into the alley, and you meet three amused expressions. Paul and Marko are snickering quietly whereas David is smirking at his dark-haired brother.

"You alright there, Dwayne?"

Dwayne turns, expression unimpressed at David's question. Instead of answering him, he turns his stare on you. "What?" You feign innocence. "I had to sell it. His friends needed to believe I brought him in here for anything other than feeding."

"Whatever. Next time, just kill the guy."

As Dwayne stalks off, you smile at his back. The moment he disappears, you ask, "Was that- was that jealousy?"

"Yep." Paul skips to you, draping an arm around your shoulders. "Dwayne's always been possessive, but it's been a long time since he took real interest in someone."

"This is going to be fun," Marko muses.

You roll your eyes and sigh but can't help but agree.

Over the course of another few days, it's now very obvious that Dwayne's hovering wasn't just because you were a female. He most definitely knows you can take care of yourself, yet he's still there, but now he's openly snarling when someone looks at you a little too long. To placate him, you only ride with him and pull him into the V of your thighs when you're sitting on the railing. He starts tensing up the moment you all people watch for your next meal and other guys stare back, but the tension drops from his shoulders when you hop onto the railing, pull him into the V of your thighs, and hug him from behind.

Nothing intimate happens between you and Dwayne, but it becomes an unspoken rule among the small coven that you're off limits.

Everything seems to be going well until you meet the boys on the boardwalk one night and David looks livid.

Your smile instantly vanishes. "What's wrong?"

"The woods smell like fuckin' dog," he seethes.

Immediately your gaze snaps towards the sky and your heart sinks. "It's a full moon."

"We know. We're gonna try and kill this wolf for stepping into our territory and pissin' all over the place."

"What?" Your voice is lethally quiet as you meet David's gaze. "You have to be joking. One bite- hell, even one nip!- is a death sentence."

"We'll be fine. We just thought we'd let you know."

As they turn to mount their bikes, you swear. "Goddammit. Wait for me. You're not doing this alone."

You climb onto the back of Dwayne's bike, wrapping your arms around his waist as you glare at the others for their idiotic choices. They're quite solemn as they drive to the woods, and you keep your eyes peeled for the werewolf in question. As they come to a stop, you climb off and glance around the eerily quiet woods.

"So do you have any tips on tracking a werewolf?" Paul muses.

You gulp. "It's a full moon and this wolf most likely claimed these woods as theirs. It'll be hunting us."

The boys chuckle and start walking, combing the woods for any sight of the wolf. It isn't long until a twig snaps- a twig that neither you nor the boys have stepped on. You all freeze.

"Showtime?" Marko wonders.

You sigh. "Be prepared to run. Werewolves can match a vampire's speed on the nights of a full moon."

"We'll be alright."

Almost as soon as the words leave Marko's mouth, the werewolf rushes in. It takes down Paul by his knees, standing on his back and snarling. Before he can snap his jaws, you rush over and kick the werewolf to send it flying.

"What the fuck was that?!" Paul incredulously asks as he hurriedly climbs back to his feet.

"A werewolf," you deadpan. "Keep your guard up. It'll come back."

For a few minutes, it seems like the werewolf is toying with all of you. It keeps knocking down the boys, snarling before disappearing. You've kicked it off your friends three times by now, but the second you hear a howl in the distance, you and the boys freeze.

"There's a second one?" You ask. David shrugs and you bite your tongue to keep from giving him a verbal lashing. "It was stupid to do this on the night of a full moon. We need to leave right now, and I'll do my best to sniff out the werewolves tomorrow so we can handle them when they're in their human forms."

"How much harder can two werewolves be?"

"Pretty fuckin' hard, David. I know you're a badass and all, but we need to do this another night."

Before David can answer, Dwayne shouts. You whirl around, eyes widening at seeing a werewolf pinning him to the ground with its sharp teeth inches from his face. Without thinking, you fly at the wolf, tackling it off of him. You and the wolf scramble for the upper hand and you hiss when there's a pain in your shoulder.

Eventually, you manage to pin the wolf to the ground by its neck and shove your hand into its chest cavity to yank out its heart. With the wolf dead, you toss the heart aside. "Now will you listen to me? This was such a stupid fucking idea." The boys remain quiet, staring at her.

Actually, they're staring at your shoulder.

"What?"

Dwayne steps forward, carefully reaching for your arm and pulling you a step towards him. You frown, but then hiss when he moves the neckline of your shirt off your shoulder. "You're bit."

Your heart falls into your stomach and you quickly glance at the shoulder that you now realize is burning. Your eyes fill with tears. "O-Oh."

"Oh? Oh?!" Dwayne nearly shouts. "Werewolf bites are lethal, remember? How could you be so goddamn stupid?!"

Your bottom lip trembles. "I'm well aware of that, Dwayne. I was the one who told you to hunt the werewolf another night, remember?" You sigh and pull your hand free from his grasp. You take a moment to collect your thoughts before admitting, "There's a cure. Only a select few know and the cure is hard to get your hands on unless you're on friendly terms with those who have access to it. It's not my secret to divulge, so I was compelled to not say anything unless it was an emergency."

"What is it?" Dwayne asks. "We'll get it."

"You can't. But I can," you admit. "Let's just get to the cave. I have a phone call to make."

So, for part two, do we want the Mystic Falls gang to follow Klaus to Santa Carla or do we want the Santa Carla gang to visit Mystic Falls?

#the lost boys #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys fanfiction #lost boys x reader #the lost boys x reader #dwayne x reader #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries fanfiction #david #dwayne #paul #marko #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson

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lovesodakid · 3 months

Text

shut up and listen

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt and y/n have had a certain rivalry for years. all the pent up sex frustration finally comes out one night at a party the triplets hosted.

warnings: smuttt…., drinking?, dom!matt (ish). don’t like, don’t read🤷‍♀️.

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influencers and random strangers fill the room as the sound of different songs thump and bounce off of the walls.

the triplets hit 6 million on youtube a couple of weeks ago, so naturally, they threw a party to celebrate. since they were in boston when they hit it, they waited until they returned to los angeles to throw it.

i’ve known the triplets since i moved to california around a year and a half ago. nick was the first one to notice me, he replied to one of my instagram stories one sunny friday afternoon, we immediately hit it off. once he heard i was moving to la, he practically begged me to come over sometime to meet his brothers, so after finally getting comfortable in my new apartment in the hectic city, i met them for brunch.

just as expected, nick and i instantly connected. we took up most of the conversations that happened that day. i hit it off pretty well with chris. we have a few of the same interests which allowed us to get along extremely well. matt on the other hand, didn’t speak to me at all. instead, he just glared at me the whole time. if looks could kill, you might as well have buried me feet under right then and there.

after that, the more i got comfortable enough with nick and chris the triplets, the more i began to hang out with them. in the beginning, matt would just vocalize how much he hated my outfit, my shoes, or how my hair was done that day. i wouldn’t give him the time of day, as i’d usually just ignore him.

over time, it became irritating how much he’d talk down on me, so needless to say, i began fighting back. which quickly led to us bickering back and forth all the time as we’d throw rude words and comebacks to each other, in hopes of hurting the other one enough to get them to leave the other alone.

which is what’s happening at this very moment.

“god you are so annoying!” i yell as i push him away from me, making my way to the kitchen. i need a drink if im going to be dealing with mr. ‘negative all the time’.

“it’s not my fault you decided to show up in a small ass dress.” matt shouts back over the music, seemingly following closely behind me.

“why does it matter what i show up in? it’s my body. so im pretty sure i have a say-so in what i choose to wear.” i shoot back as i grab a bottle of cheap vodka, pouring it into a plastic throwaway cup.

matt’s face scrunches up in disgust.

“you aren’t getting wasted at my party.”

“no, im getting wasted at your brothers party.” i correct him before patting his shoulder, making my way into the living room.

as i walk further into the living room, i notice nick and a couple of other influencers standing in a hurdle talking to one another. i cautiously make my way towards them in hopes i don’t interrupt on any conversations that may be going on.

“y/n! hey!” nick exclaims excitedly, ushering me over.

“hey!” i gleam back as i stand right beside him.

“are you having fun?” he asks, looking down at me.

“as much fun as i can with mr. ‘big mouth’ always having something to say.” i roll my eyes, obviously talking about matt. who else?

“yeah im sorry about him.” nick says as he gives me an apologetic smile.

i just shrug my shoulders in response as i take a sip of the alcoholic beverage in my cup.

i never really understood why matt didn’t like me. im convinced he’s hated me the second he laid his eyes on me. for what reason? i have no clue. i think he finds happiness in life from making my life miserable every second im around him.

as im freely dancing, enjoying the effects of the alcohol. i feel someone come up behind me.

“hey.”

i turn around to meet a cute guy, who looks kind of familiar, but i can’t really place it.

“hi.” i say back, giving him a soft, half lidded smile.

“i don’t think i’ve seen you before, what’s your name?” the blonde haired stranger asks.

“oh-im y/n,” i slur my words. “im friends with the triplets.”

“oh okay.” he nods, eyes scanning up and down my body. which almost immediately makes me regret wearing a dress that my ass hangs out of.

i push my lips into a thin line as i nod back, looking down at my hands as i fiddle with them.

“you wanna go somewhere more quiet? y’know to talk. i can barley hear anything in here.” he suggests, leaning down to hear my response.

it’s as if my body reacts before my brain can even process what the dude is saying before im already nodding and taking his hand for him to lead me to a “quieter place”.

he leads me towards the hallway. the hallway where matt’s bedroom, bathroom, and the laundry room is.

we stand outside the bathroom, my back pressed against the door as he stands in front of me.

“so where are you from?” he asks, putting one of his hands beside my head, leaning on it as he lowers his head.

“um…florida..” i answer, hesitantly.

“mhm..” he hums, moving his head closer to mine until his lips barely ghost over mine.

i clear my throat in hopes of sending him a message that im clearly not interested in making out in front of the bedroom of the person i despise the most. or just the fact im not interested in making out at all.

when i feel him backing up, i let out a sigh of relief until i notice he didn’t back up on his own, except with a little bit of help.

“hey there.” matt happily says. clear sarcasm coming from his mouth, as well as written all over the fake smile on his face.

“what’s up!” the blonde dude chirps back, clearly not noticing matt’s fake ass nice tone.

“not much man..you know,” matt glances at me before leaning over to whisper something in the dudes ear.

whatever matt told him, must’ve changed his mind about what he planned on doing for the rest of his life or some shit because the dude just mutters a quick “okay yeah” before practically sprinting back into the living room.

i furrow my eyebrows as i look at matt, who now stands directly in front of me.

“what the hell was that?” he shouts at me, pure anger written all over his face.

“what?” i ask in disbelief as i cross my arms.

“you were just going to fuck some dude while you’re drunk? at my house?” he spits, leaning down to my level. “not to mention right in front of my bedroom?”

needless to say, im shocked. completely and utterly shocked. because, why would mr. ‘i can’t stand you’ now suddenly care what i do?

“what the fuck do you mean?” i voice back. “i wasn’t going to fuck him! let alone fuck him here, and i’m not even that drunk matt.”

i notice a small wave of relief flashing across his face before it turns right back to anger.

“you’re drunk enough,” he begins. “who knows what would’ve happened if i wouldn’t have stepped in. oh wait, i do. you would’ve fucked him! then i would have to listen to you crying in the morning about how you screwed some dude you don’t even know.” he states in a matter-of-factly voice.

once again, i stare at him in disbelief.

“matt-no the fuck i wouldn’t-“ i try to say, before im completely cut off.

“oh my god y/n,” he starts. “won’t you just fucking shut up and listen (lol) for once!” he shouts angrily, his hand coming up to wrap around my throat.

if i wasn’t already fully pressed against the bathroom door, i am now.

“matt?” i squeak out, trying to ignore the pooling in my underwear.

“what?” he breathlessly chuckles, leaning closer to my face.

i don’t say anything, not that i even can. i just stare at him, complete confusion written on my face.

“got nothing to say now huh?” he speaks condescendingly, leaning his head down dangerously close to my throat.

for some reason, i don’t make any efforts to get him away from me. i don’t want to push him away for once in my life.

“hm?” he hums, his lips slightly grazing over the sweet spot right under my ear.

i clear my throat, in hopes of mustering up some way to speak before i feel his mouth harshly biting down on the spot.

“oh-fuck!” i slightly yell, more in surprise than anything as he continues sucking on my neck that’s going to more than likely leave a spot in the morning.

“mhmm.” he hums once again, sending vibrations through my throat.

he removes the hand around my neck to place it on my hip as he puts his other hand on the side of my face, moving his mouth to the base of my throat, planting kisses along the path.

“matt..” i whine breathlessly as he moves his kisses upwards.

they move up my throat. then up to my chin, then once they reach my mouth he stops. just hovering over them before he speaks.

“give me permission y/n.” he whispers.

i nod, almost to quick for my liking.

“words, i need words.” he whispers again, this time sounding a little more desperate as he stares into my eyes, moving his hand from the side of my face to under my chin, lifting it up.

those damn eyes.

“y-yes matt.” i barely get out before his lips are already on mine.

his lips are soft. insanely soft. his pace? not as much.

i can barley keep up with him as his lips move against mine in a rapid movement. both of his hands slide down my sides, wrapping around my back before moving down to gently to grab my ass, causing me to let out a quick gasp, in which he takes advantage of to quickly slip his tongue into my mouth.

he pulls me away from the bathroom door, walking me backwards towards his room. he opens the door and walks me in, kicking the door behind him, our lips not breaking contact once.

he continues backing me up until i feel the back of my legs hit his bed, in which he puts a hand on my chest, slightly pushing me back which causes me to collapse onto his bed. him wasting no time in crawling right on top of me.

“matt..” i whine, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer to me.

“what baby?” he coos. rubbing his hand on my face, pushing my hair off my forehead.

“i need you.” i speak softly, unable to ignore the continuous pulsing between my thighs.

which causes him to let a cocky grin spread across his face.

“i know.” he says, reconnecting our lips.

his hands run down my sides, before going lower, reaching the hem of my dress.

“god this dress..”, he huffs, looking down at it. “you look gorgeous baby, but i need it off.”

i quickly nod before he begins pushing it up further. once it’s scrunched up on my waist, my black laced thongs are on complete display for him.

he grins, running his hand down my lower abdomen, stopping right above panty line. which subconsciously makes me buck my hips upwards.

“hey hey..patient baby, okay?” he softly says, pushing me back down.

he continues pushing up my dress as i raise up slightly so he can push it over my head completely.

once its discarded somewhere on the floor of his bedroom, he leans up as he looks down at me. taking notice of my now matching black lace bra and thong.

“matt..” i whimper, needing something. anything.

“shh, let me look at you.” he runs his hands all over my body as he stares at me. like an animal does at its prey before completely demolishing it, eating it alive.

and with that he leans back down, placing his lips on my neck. he moves his lips down my throat, onto my collarbone. making a few pit stops to suck here and there, before moving down to one of my breasts, kissing the top of the exposed skin as the rest is covered by my bra. causing me to let out a breathless moan, arching my back into him.

it’s not covered for long though as he’s reaching behind me to unclasp my bra. once it’s off, he throws it somewhere behind him. focusing his attention back onto my breasts, admiring them.

“you’re perfect.” he whispers before leaning back down, taking my right nipple into his mouth.

“oh my- god matt!” i loudly moan at the sudden motion, reaching my hand up to entangle it into his hair.

he groans as he swirls his tongue around the bud. once he’s decided that’s enough for one side, he quickly moves to my left breast, showing it the same amount of affection.

he stays there for a second before lifting his mouth away from me to hover over me. locking eyes with me, he lowers back down, peppering kisses down the valley of my breast.

he makes his way down my stomach, painfully slowly. leaving soft kisses in his path. the further he gets down, he places his knees on the floor. as he reaches the top of my panties. he keeps his eyes on mine as he sticks his tongue out, licking across the top of my panty line, causing me to shudder and slightly buck my hips up once again. before he pushes them back down again.

“what’d i say about being patient baby?” he tuts before he leans back, getting a full view of my clothed pussy. he grins noticing a darker spot right in the middle of them. “so wet for me hm?”

he drags one finger over my covered folds. which causes me to let out small line of cuss words. he lets the most shit eating grin spread across his face before he’s hooking his fingers around the waistband of my panties. he slowly pulls them down my legs. once they’re fully off, he takes them in his fist throwing them, this time forward so they land on his nightstand.

“such a pretty pussy.” he muttered before swiftly putting his face in between my thighs.

he left a quick, sweet kiss on my clit, causing my body jump and a soft moan roll off my tongue. before his is swiping through my soaking folds.

he skillfully flicks his tongue against my clit in an up and down motion as his eyes are piercing into mine the whole time. in response, i throw my head back onto his comforter, allowing my back to arch as his name comes out of my mouth plenty enough times to make him groan into my pussy. sending vibrations, enhancing the pleasurable feelings.

i feel my climax building, fast, as my thighs squeeze around his head. my grip tightening on his hair.

“matt…im gonna-“ i try to warn him, before i feel him come completely off of me, backing away.

“not yet you’re not.” he says demandingly as he stands up.

i whimper from the loss of him. before he quickly begins to undress. taking off his shirt, then his pants, then finally, his boxers. his dick happily springs out. the tip completely reddened as it throbs impatiently. pre-cum slightly leaking from the hole.

i almost drool at the sight.

he climbs up me again, spreading my legs with his knee. i guess i had pushed them back together while he was getting himself undressed.

he leans back down, connecting his lips with mine.

our lips dance across one another’s before he slowly begins grinding down on me. his bare dick rubbing between my folds to collect my slick to use as lube.

“matt!” i moan again. his cock rubbing against my clit perfectly.

before he stops again, making me whine once again from the loss.

he reaches his arm out towards his nightstand, opening his drawer as he begins rummaging around for something.

both his hand and head drops in annoyance as he groans into the crook of my neck.

“i don’t have a condom.”

��it’s okay,” i smile. “im on the pill.” i inform him.

he springs up, the widest grin i’ve ever seen taking over his features.

“you have no clue how long ive wanted to do this baby.” he sweetly kisses my cheek.

he leans back, sitting straight up as he looks down at me.

“you ready baby?” he asks, rubbing my stomach in reassurance.

“yes matt.” i let him know.

he looks at me, analyzing my face for any signs that scream ‘i don’t want this’. once he doesn’t find any, he begins pushing his tip inside of me.

his jaw slacks, low moans falling out as he makes his way into me. my jaw mirroring his as my back lifts off the brown bedding.

once he bottoms out, he waits for my sign that he can begin moving. once i nod my head a few times, he’s pulling out, not fully as his tip stays in. he snaps his hips back into mine at a slow pace.

“mm-fuck! matt!” i moan loudly.

“fuck baby-so tight.” he grunts, his head falling back.

he keeps the slow steadily pace for a while. slick sounds and moans filling up the room. thank god there’s a party going on outside, or we’d definitely be caught.

“matt..go faster.” i whine, needing more.

almost in a second, his hips are snapping into mine at a harsh pace. his tip kissing that soft spongey spot causing my walls to pulse around him as lewd moans escape my mouth.

“you sound so fucking good baby.” he lets out in small breathes as he puts all of his weight on top of me, his mouth ghosting my ear.

“all for me, huh?” he asks, condescendingly as he manages to pick up his pace.

which only cause me to let out a loud shriek. he takes that as my response as he leans back up, eyes focused on watching himself slip in and out of me.

“matt! im gonna cum!” i squeal, warning him.

“come on, cum for me.” he groans, picking up his already rapid pace. lowering his hand between our bodies to rub circles on my clit.

almost on command, my walls begin contracting as i let go around his dick. pure euphoria coating my body as i hit my high.

he rides me through my orgasm as he inches towards his own.

“fuck-y/n-“ he begins as his hips sputter before he reaches his high, painting my insides white as i feel his warm liquid shoot inside me.

he collapses onto my chest. we lay there for a few seconds as we catch our breath, until he pulls out. both of us wince from the slight overstimulation.

“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he whispers, leaving a sweet peck on my cheek.

as he gets up, he picks my hand up, leaving a small kiss on the back of it.

i just slept with the person i despise most.

or do i?

____________________________________________

a/n: first time writing smut so i apologize if it sucks ass 😃. this took way longer than i’d like to admit but i hope u like it. i heavily advise you to listen to the song ‘shut up and listen’ with this. it’s so fucking good.

for the ones that wanted to be tagged: @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

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balladofthe101st · 24 days

Text

Buck Compton came back to see the Company to let us know that he was alright. He became a prosecutor in Los Angeles. He convicted Sirhan Sirhan in the murder of Robert Kennedy, and was later appointed to the California Court of Appeals.

David Webster became a writer for the Saturday Evening Post and Wall Street Journal, and later wrote and book about sharks. In 1961, he went out on the ocean alone, and was never seen again.

Johnny Martin would return to his job at the railroad and then start his own construction company. He splits his time between Arizona and a place in Montana.

George Luz became a handyman in Providence, Rhode Island. As a testament to his character, sixteen hundred people attended his funeral in 1998.

Doc Roe died in Louisiana in 1998. He’d been a construction contractor.

Frank Perconte returned to Chicago and worked a postal route as a mailman.

Joe Liebgott returned to San Francisco and drove his cab.

Bull Randleman was one of the best soldiers I ever had. He went into the earth moving business in Arkansas. He’s still there.

Alton More returned to Wyoming with a unique souvenir: Hitler’s personal photo albums. He was killed in a car accident in 1958.

Floyd Talbert we all lost touch with in civilian life, until he showed up at a reunion just before his death in 1981.

Carwood Lipton became a glass making executive in charge of factories all over the world. He has a nice life in North Carolina.

Harry Welsh – he married Kitty Grogan. Became an administrator for the Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania school system.

Ronald Speirs stayed in the Army, served in Korea. In 1958, returned to Germany as Governor of Spandau Prison. He retired a Lieutenant Colonel.

Lewis Nixon had some tough times after the war. He was divorced a couple of times. Then in 1956, he married a woman named Grace and everything came together for him. He spent the rest of his life with her, travelling the world. My friend Lew died in 1995.

I took up his job offer and was a personnel manager at the Nixon Nitration Works, until I was called back into service in 1950 to train officers and rangers. I chose not to go to Korea. I’d had enough of war. I stayed around Hershey, Pennsylvania, finally finding a little farm. A little peaceful corner of the world, where I still live today. And there is not a day that goes by that I do not think of the men I served with who never got to enjoy the world without war.

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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

Text

Scarecrow | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5402

A/N: SURPRISE!!!! I've decided to start updating twice a week!!! I would not be cranking these out like I am if it weren't for y'all's support. Thank you so so much for everything, my lovebugs. See y'all on Saturday!!! New update schedule:

Wednesdays and Saturdays @ 3 PM CDT

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Series Rewrite Playlist (surprise!)

You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing, and were shocked by the voice on the other end of the call. “John?!”

“Hi, (Y/N),” he answered. “I know you’re with the boys. I need you to do something for me.”

“John, what the fuck? How did you get my number?” you questioned. “Why didn’t you call Sam or Dean?!”

He sighed. “Because I knew they wouldn’t just let me go. Listen, I need you to take down these names for me.”

You wrapped a jacket around yourself and headed to the boys’ room next door. You banged on it loudly, still talking to John. “Look, sir, I’m sorry, but I have to let them know you called me.”

Sam opened the door.

“(Y/N), no! It’s too dangerous!” John responded, his voice gravelly.

“Too late,” you told him.

Sam had apparently heard his dad’s voice and ripped the phone out of your hands. “Dad? Are you hurt? We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We didn’t know where you were, if you were okay.”

Dean began to wake up with all of the commotion.

“We’re fine. Dad, where are you?” Sam continued.

Dean shot up when Sam said “dad.”

Sam scoffed at something his father said. “What? Why not?”

“Is that Dad?” Dean asked.

“You’re after it, aren’t you? The thing that killed Mom,” Sam said softly. “A demon? You know for sure?”

“A demon? What’s he saying?” Dean’s voice became almost frantic.

Tears suddenly welled in Sam’s eyes. “You know where it is?... Let us help… Why not?”

Dean extended his hand to his brother. “Give me the phone.”

“Names? What names, Dad— talk to me, tell me what’s going on,” Sam pleaded. “No. Alright? No way.”

Dean grabbed the phone out of Sam’s hands. “Dad, it’s me. Where are you? Why’d you call (Y/N) instead of one of us?... Yes, sir… Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?” He began writing on the notepad next to his bed.

Sam shook his head, tears still in his eyes.

Dean hung up the phone and handed it back to you. “How’d he get your number, (Y/N)?”

“I have no idea; I changed it since I met you guys,” you told him. “That was after your dad disappeared.”

“Why would he call her and not us?” Sam asked his brother.

“He said he knew you wouldn’t just let him go,” you explained. “Said it was too dangerous for me to let you know I spoke to him.”

“Well, thank you for not listening,” Sam told you.

You gave him a lopsided, sad smile.

***

Later that day, Sam was driving you toward what you thought was your next hunt. Couples had been going missing through the same part of Indiana every year on the second week of April; which just so happened to be this week.

“So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?” Sam asked.

“Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.” You could tell Dean really respected his father. You had that same respect for your dad when he was alive; you understood completely.

Sam seemed annoyed, though, and pulled over to the side of the road. He turned off the car.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“We’re not going to Indiana,” he responded.

Your eyebrows shot up. “We’re not?”

“No. We’re going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code,” Sam explained.

Dean shook his head. “Sam—”

“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.”

“Dad doesn’t want our help,” Dean protested.

Sam’s voice rose more. “I don’t care!”

“He’s given us an order!”

Sam’s voice was suddenly quieted. “I don’t care. We don’t always have to do what he says.”

“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important,” the older brother argued, incredulous that this was even a conversation.

“Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge.”

“Alright, look, I know how you feel—”

“Do you?”

You were shocked by Sam’s tone.

“How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”

“Sam!” you scolded.

“Dad said it wasn’t safe,” Dean continued. “For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away.”

Sam scoffed humorlessly. “I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.”

“Yeah, it’s called being a good son!”

“Both of you, stop it!” you ordered.

Sam angrily got out of the car. You looked to Dean who couldn’t meet your eyes before the two of you got out as well.

“You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?” Dean spat. “You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.”

Sam bit back, “That’s what you really think?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California.” He shouldered his backpack and started walking in the opposite direction.

“C’mon, Sam, get back in the car,” you called to him.

“No, (Y/N), stay out of this,” Sam responded.

“It’s the middle of the night!” you protested.

“Hey, I’m taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?” Dean roared.

Sam stopped walking and turned around. “That’s what I want you to do,” he replied coldly.

You watched with bated breath as the two brothers sized each other up.

“Goodbye, Sam.” Dean slammed the trunk closed. He went to get in the car and drive away, but you stopped him.

“Just wait a second, please?”

He nodded.

You sprinted to Sam, giving him a tight hug. He returned it with his free arm. “Bye, Sam. Be safe, please,” you told him.

“What, you’re really gonna stay with him?” he scoffed.

“I don’t have much of a choice—”

“You do, though. You said you were gonna help us find our dad. I’m going to find our dad.”

You backed away from him. “I believe we will find your dad. I think he’s too smart to stay in Sacramento after calling us.”

Sam shook his head. “This is about more than that, isn’t it? You just wanna stay with Dean.”

“No, Sam, that’s not the point—”

“Then come with me.”

Your voice softened considerably. “No.”

The brunet scoffed again. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

He walked away from you. You hurried back to the car and slammed the door to the passenger’s seat shut. You slumped against the door, and you nor Dean talked for the remainder of the drive to Burkittsville, Indiana.

***

When you arrived, you saw Dean take out his phone and scroll to Sam’s contact. You silently prayed he would click it, but he never did. Alternatively, the two of you got out of the car and made your way over to Scotty’s Café.

Burkittsville was a sleepy little town full of mom and pop shops and not a chain restaurant in sight. The people seemed just as quaint and perfect as their town appeared, including the man on the porch of the café.

Dean gestured to the sign above the man’s head. “Let me guess. Scotty.”

Scotty looked up at his sign and nodded curtly. “Yep.”

“Hi, my name’s John Bonham,” Dean smiled, “And this is—”

Scotty cut him off before he could introduce you. “Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?”

The younger man was taken aback. “Wow. Good. Classic rock fan.”

Scotty’s face was unchanging. “What can I do for you, John?”

Dean took out the Missing Person posters of Holly and Vince Parker, the couple that had disappeared last year.

You stuck the fliers out to Scotty. “We were just wondering if you’d seen these people by chance? They’re friends of ours, and we just really wanna find ‘em. The cops haven’t done much, and we figured we’d take the investigation into our own hands. We already asked around Scottsberg and Salem—”

Scotty cut you off and looked to Dean. “Does she always talk this much?”

You were offended. “Sorry, I just, I really wanna find my friends.”

Scotty sat back in his chair and huffed. “Haven’t seen ‘em. We don’t get many strangers around here.”

Dean nodded. “Scotty, you’ve got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?”

Scotty eyed him strangely.

“Never mind. See you around.”

The two of you walked away from the man and the café.

“That was awkward, you mumbled. “The fuck was his problem?”

“He was right about one thing, sweetheart, you do talk a lot,” Dean gibed in response.

You shoved his shoulder. “Fuck off.”

Your next stop was the Jorgeson General Store; another one of those mom-and-pop shops. You spoke to the woman behind the counter and her husband about the Parkers’ disappearance.

“You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Dean questioned.

The older man before you shook his head. “Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?”

Dean nodded.

A young girl bounded down the stairs carrying some boxes. “Did the guy have a tattoo?”

You looked at her surprised. “Yeah, he did.”

The blonde put the boxes on the counter and looked down at the missing posters you were holding. “You remember?” she asked the older couple. “They were just married.”

The old man seemed to remember suddenly, “You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here more than ten minutes.”

“You remember anything else?” Dean asked, You could tell he was suspicious of these people; as we you.

“I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town.”

“Could you point us in that same direction?”

***

“I’m telling you, those people weird me out,” you told Dean as you drove down the old man’s directed route.

“Yeah, no kidding,” he responded. “WASPs.”

“Oh, for sure,” you giggled.

You were cut off by a sound coming from the backseat.

“The fuck?” Dean mumbled at the sound. “(Y/N), care to investigate?”

You nodded, leaning over the backseat and rummaging through Dean’s duffel bag. You pulled out the EMF meter, which buzzed frantically. “Pull over,” you instructed him.

***

The two of you walked through a pretty apple orchard. It was quite large, as were the trees. You had no doubt it stretched for hundreds of acres. You and Dean crunched leaves under your boots and followed the strengthening beep of the EMF meter to a frightening scarecrow. It wore dark clothing; its eyes were hollow and its mouth was sewn shut. The hair it seemed to have was straggly and wild under the brim of its hat.

“Dude, you fugly,” Dean jested.

You giggled, but something caught your eye. The scarecrow held a sickle, and your eyes trailed from it to a design on its arm. “Dean, look.”

He seemed to notice the same thing you did and grabbed a ladder. You held the bottom steady while he climbed up to the scarecrow’s eye level. He adjusted its sleeve to fully reveal the design on its arm. You pulled out Vince’s flier and handed it to Dean. He compared the two, but you already knew the designs would match exactly.

“Nice tat,” Dean told the scarecrow.

“Alright, get out of its face before you piss it off,” you told your friend.

He chuckled. “Yeah, right.” He climbed back down the ladder and you headed back to Burkittsville to investigate further. Dean drove you to the gas station next to a car repair shop where you noticed the young girl from the general store was working.

“You’re back,” the blonde smiled.

Dean replied, “Never left.”

“Still looking for your friends?” she asked.

You nodded.

Dean noticed the nameplate necklace the girl was wearing. “ You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily?”

She grabbed the pump and obliged.

“So, you grew up here?” Dean asked.

“I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in,” she explained.

“They’re nice people.”

“Everybody’s nice here.”

“So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?”

She nodded and sighed. “Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed.”

You nodded. “Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?”

Emily shivered. “Yeah, it creeps me out.”

Dean laughed. “Whose is it?”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just always been there.”

You nodded toward the red van parked by the garage with its hood up. “That your aunt and uncle’s?”

Emily shook her head. “Customer. Had some car troubles.”

“It’s not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?” A look of concern crossed Dean’s face, and Emily nodded.

And with that, you thanked Emily, paid her, and headed off to find the town’s next victims: that poor couple. You found them in Scotty’s Café.

“We’re famous for our apples,” Scotty said as you walked in. “So, you gotta try this pie.”

“Oh, no. It— please,” the girl shook her head. The couple’s table was already full of plates.

“It’s on the house.” Scotty’s disposition was much different than the one he’d presented to you and Dean previously.

“Oh, hey, Scotty,” Dean grinned. “Can I get a coffee, black? Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you’re at it.”

You and Dean sat at a table next to the couple. “Mind your manners, please,” you mumbled to him.

“I got it,” he answered. “How ya doin’?” He leaned over to the couple, who waved back and smiled. “Just passing through?”

“Road trip,” the girl replied awkwardly.

“Hm. Yeah, us, too,” Dean said.

Scotty came back over to refill the couple’s drinks. “ I’m sure these people want to eat in peace.”

“He’s just making conversation,” you defended.

Scotty glared at you and walked away.

Dean was clearly reveling in Scotty’s agitation. “Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks.”

“So, what brings you to town?” you asked the couple.

“We just stopped for gas,” the girl explained. “And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us,” the man replied.

Dean seemed concerned. “Nice people.”

You didn’t know the first thing about cars, but from the look on Dean’s face, you could tell he knew something was fishy. “So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?”

“Sundown,” the man answered curtly, taking a bite of his food.

“Really.” Dean pondered for a minute. “To fix a brake line?”

The man nodded.

“I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge you anything,” Dean said, chuckling awkwardly.

“You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it.” He turned back to the table.

Dean paused. “You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night.”

The couple exchanged a look.

“I know it sounds strange, but, uh, you might be in danger,” Dean tried.

“Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?” the man responded, annoyed.

Dean seemed disappointed. He turned to you. “Sam could just give him that puppy dog look and they’d just buy right into it,” he lamented.

Your heart was saddened; both because you missed Sam and felt for Dean. The bell above the door jingled, and Scotty came out from the back.

“Thanks for coming, Sheriff,” Scotty told the man who had just entered.

You were beginning to get incredibly agitated with Scotty.

“I’d like a word, please,” the sheriff told you and Dean.

“Come on. I’m having a bad day already,” Dean grumbled.

“You know what would make it worse?”

And with that, the sheriff escorted you to the outside of town; making sure you kept driving outside of Burkittsville.

You and Dean were stubborn, though, and returned to the town later that night. You headed to the orchard where you knew the couple was about to become scarecrow food.

You always had your pistol on you, of course, but Dean had you carry a shotgun loaded with rock salt, too. He grabbed one for himself, and the two of you trekked into the orchard, quickly trying to find the couple. You had seen their car broken down on the side of the road and knew they couldn’t be far.

“Who’s there?” you heard the man from the diner call.

You and Dean broke off in the direction of the voice. You jumped in front of the couple just before the scarecrow could reach them.

“Get back to your car.” Dean ordered, aiming his shotgun at the scarecrow. “Go! Go! (Y/N), follow ‘em!”

The couple took off running and you stayed close behind, occasionally looking over your shoulder to make sure it was far enough away. You watched as Dean shot the scarecrow, which stumbled, but kept walking.

You took out your pistol and aimed at the thing. “Dean, look out!” You took a shot at it, too, but it still persisted.

“What the hell kind of thing is immune to rock salt and real bullets?!” you yelled to Dean.

“Go! Go!” He responded, pushing you and the couple forward and out of the orchard. When you turned around for the last time as you had reached their car, the scarecrow disappeared. Even still, you and Dean kept your guns pointed at the orchard’s entrance.

“What— what the hell was that?” the man from the diner panted.

“Don’t ask!” you told them.

While you stood guard, Dean fixed up the car for the couple and escorted them out of town. The next morning, you and Dean decided to find a local history professor from the next town over to get some information.

“We should call Sam,” you told him.

“I know,” he mumbled.

“Oh-kay, then what are you waiting for?” you asked.

He said nothing in response, but pulled out his phone and dialed Sam’s number. You weren’t surprised when Dean didn’t address their fight at all.

“Yeah, I’m tellin’ ya,” Dean told Sam on the other line. “Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun Town… No. We can’t cope without you, you know… No, it’s more than a spirit. It’s a god. A Pagan god, anyway… The annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. Like some kind of fertility right. And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin’ ‘em up like a Christmas turkey… Yeah, (Y/N)’s thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god... Yeah, yeah. She’s fine. She’s here.”

You smiled at what you knew was Dean responding to Sam asking about you.

“And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won’t wilt, and disease won’t spread… No, not yet… I know. We’re actually on our way to a local community college. I’ve got an appointment with a professor. You know, since I don’t have my trusty sidekick geek boy to do all the research.” Dean’s tone shifted. “I’m not hinting anything! Actually, uh—I want you to know….I mean, don’t think… Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.”

You eyed Dean curiously as he continued.

“You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway… I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy… Say you’ll take care of yourself… Call me when you find Dad.”

You took the phone from Dean. “Hi, Sam. I miss you,” you told him.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), I miss you, too. I’m sorry about what I said,” Sam responded.

“Yeah, me too. Be safe, kiddo.”

Sam laughed at your nickname for him. “I will.”

***

You and Dean talked with a sweet, old professor about the pagan god you could potentially be dealing with; feigning that it was for a research paper. He flipped through a large book on the different Norse pagan gods and goddesses, until a scarecrow in one of the drawings caught Dean’s attention.

“Wait, wait, wait. What’s that one?” Dean asked.

“Oh, that’s not a woods god, per se,” the professor answer.

“The V-Vanir?” Dean read off hesitantly.

The professor nodded.

You read the page aloud. “ ‘The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female.’ “ You pointed to the picture. “Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?”

The professor looked at you strangely. “I suppose.”

“This particular Vanir that’s energy sprung from the sacred tree?” Dean questioned.

The professor seemed confused, but answered you none the less.“Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic.”

“So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it’d kill the god?”

The old man laughed. “Son, these are just legends we’re discussing.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. He knows that,” you said. “Thank you for your time.” You shook the man’s hand.

“Glad I could help,” he responded.

Dean was the first to hit the door, only to be knocked in the head with a rifle when he opened it.

“Hey!” you yelled, drawing your gun. The sheriff pointed his back at you.

“Carrying a gun on a college campus,” the sheriff tsked. “That’s not a good look for you. Why don’t you put that down and come with me.”

You hesitated, but knew he was right. You put it back in your jacket and raised your hands.

The sheriff aimed his gun at you while two other men he’d brought with him dragged Dean’s passed-out body back to Burkittsville.

The sheriff’s deputies threw Dean’s body down into a cellar beneath one of the houses near the orchard and shoved you down with him.

“You motherfucker,” you told the man. “So what’s the plan? Huh? Keep us here ‘til nightfall, then, what, let us loose in the orchard? You know that thing won’t be able to catch us.”

The sheriff chuckled at you. “Don’t you worry. We’ll take care of you.” And with that, he shut the cellar doors above your head; blocking the majority of the light out. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the bits of sunlight still peeking through the cracks in the boards. You shoved the cellar doors with all your might, groaning as you did. You tried to get it open for hours with the few objects down in the cellar.

“C’mon!” you cried, frustrated. Nothing you tried worked.

Dean’s groan in pain from behind you caught your attention. You rushed back down the stairs and over to him.

You sat down on the floor beside him, gingerly brushing your hand over the wound on his head. “You okay?”

He propped himself up on one elbow and touched the spot on his forehead with his other hand. “Super.”

“Just try to relax,” you told him, “I wanna make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“What are you, Nurse Ratched?” he grunted, trying to push away from you. “I’m fine, (Y/N), seriously.”

You huffed. “Will you just let me help you? Please?”

Hesitantly, he obliged. You shuffled closer and positioned your knees under his head. He leaned back into you, and you could have sworn some of the tension left his body when he came in contact with you.

You brushed his short, spiky hair back with one hand and held a finger over his face with the other. “Follow my finger, please. Without moving your head.”

He did. His eyes tracked your motion well.

“Okay, now, where are we?” you asked, still stroking his hair.

He scoffed. “What does that have to do with me having a concussion?”

“Just answer the question, asshole.”

He scoffed again, but obeyed. “Uh… some kind of cellar. I’m assuming in Burkittsville.”

“Okay, good,” you said. “Why are we here?”

“That bastard knocked me out at the community college. Fuckin’ professor must’ve called him or something,” Dean grumbled.

“Okay, I think you’re fine,” you told him.

He sat up from your lap, and you missed the feeling of him against you. “Where’d you learn that stuff from?” he asked.

You laughed nervously. “I, uh… this is gonna sound stupid, but I was planning on going to school for nursing the year my parents died.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah. They, um. They died without ever knowing I was gonna go to school that fall.” You looked down at your lap.

“So why didn’t you just leave this all behind and go to school? You could’ve been normal, (Y/N).”

“Honestly?” you replied. “Screw normal. I knew that even if I left hunting, I’d never truly feel safe ever again. Besides, the white picket fence isn’t really my style.” You gave him a lopsided smile which he returned.

“What would you have done? If you weren’t a hunter, I mean,” you asked.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.” He paused and looked off. He thought for a minute before turning back to you. “I think I would’ve been a mechanic. Maybe a marine, like my dad. When I was a kid, though, I wanted to be a fireman.”

You smiled. “I can totally see that for you.”

The warmth that had settled between you was dispersed by the cellar doors opening. You and Dean scrambled to your feet.

“It’s time,” the woman from the general store said.

You shot Dean a nervous look. You could tell he was doing his best to be brave.

The sheriff really liked using the butt of his rifle to hit things. He’d been using it to urge you and Dean forward about the last half mile into the orchard.

“Do you feel powerful with that thing? Manly?” you asked the sheriff. “You can probably do more with it than you can with your dick— Ow!” You were cut off by a sharp whack to the back of your head.

The sheriff sat Dean down and tied his wrists to a tree.

“How many people have you killed, Sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?” Dean spat.

“We don’t kill them,” was all the sheriff responded with.

“No, you just clean up after,” you broke in as the couple from the general store tied you to a tree next to him. “I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?”

The sheriff shot you a glare before walking away from you and Dean.

“Try to understand,” the woman told you, somehow still smiling. “It’s our responsibility. And there’s just no other choice. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one.” She turned away from you, and led the other three men away.

“I hope your apple pie is freakin’ worth it!” Dean called after them.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked.

“I’m workin’ on it,” Dean responded.

You leaned your head back against the tree stump. “I can’t believe I’m gonna die like this.”

“(Y/N), do not talk like that. You are gonna be fine. We’re both gonna make it,” Dean responded.

“No, dude, be serious. Neither of us have a plan. We’re toast.”

“I told you, I’m working on it,” he assured you.

***

Hours passed. You tossed ideas back and forth about how to escape, but nothing was working. You couldn’t get through the zip ties around your wrists without scissors or a knife; which neither of you had on you. The sheriff had frisked both of you of all your weapons. Before you knew it, night had fallen.

“Can you see?” Dean asked. “Is he moving yet?”

You craned your neck, trying to see around the tree stump. “I can’t see.”

Leaves rustled. You and Dean began frantically pulling at your bindings.

“You hear that?” you squeaked.

“Yeah, I do!” Dean strained against his binds.

And then, Sam emerged from the trees behind you.

“Sam!” you grinned.

“(Y/N)?” he responded, stooping down to you. He immediately set to work untying you.

“Oh! Oh, I take everything back I said.” Dean sounded relieved and overjoyed. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Sam moved over to Dean next.

You rubbed at your wrists and rolled your neck around as you stood. “How’d you get here?”

“I, uh— I stole a car,” he answered sheepishly.

Dean laughed. “That’s my boy! And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute.”

“What scarecrow?” Sam questioned.

You peeked around your tree to see the scarecrow was missing from his post. You and the brothers exchanged nervous looks, and broke off running in the other direction.

“There’s some kind of sacred tree we have to find,” you explained to Sam as you jogged along.

“It’s the source of its power,” Dean added.

“So let’s find it and burn it,” Sam replied simply.

“Nah, in the morning. Let’s just shag ass before Leather Face catches up,” Dean said.

The three of you reached the clearing, only to find yourselves surrounded by flashlights and the townspeople.

“This way!” You tried to lead the boys in another direction, but there were more people flanking you from the back. The three of you put yourselves back to back, facing the numerous guns and flashlights that clouded your vision.

“Please. Let us go,” you begged.

The old man from the general store spoke to you. “It’ll be over quickly, I promise.”

“C’mon, man, please!”

The man shook his head. “You have to let him take you. You have to—”

All of a sudden, the scarecrow’s sickle poked out through the man’s stomach. The woman next to him screamed as the scarecrow began dragging the two of them away. The rest of the townspeople began to flee the scene at what they had just witnessed.

“Come on, let’s go!” Dean ordered, and the three of you broke off running again.

You heard a noise and turned, but the scarecrow and the elderly couple were gone.

“Alright, let’s light this sucker up and get the hell outta dodge,” Dean remarked, picking up a large stick from the ground. The three of you walked a ways before finding a tree marked with Vince’s tattoo design.

“There!” you pointed at it and took the stick from Dean. Sam poured lighter fluid all over it and you lit the end of Dean’s stick with his zippo lighter.

Dean threw the stick at the tree, and the three of you watched it go up in flames. “So long, fugly scarecrow.”

You and the boys walked back to the college where the Impala was left. It took hours, and you were exhausted, but the sight of that car had you grinning from ear to ear.

“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?” Sam asked, seeming unsatisfied.

“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough.” Dean turned to his brother once you had reached the car. “So, can I drop you off somewhere?”

Sam shook his head. “No, you guys are stuck with me.”

You smiled. “What made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you two are still pains in the ass.”

You giggled.

“But, Jess and Mom— they’re both gone. Dad is god knows where. You, me, and (Y/N). We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.”

You could sense a witty remark coming from Dean any second.

“Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.”

‘There it is.’ You laughed again.

Sam smacked his brother’s shoulder. “You two should be kissing my ass. You were dead meat.”

“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten out,” Dean responded.

“Oh, sure you did,” you chimed in. “They were just all crap.”

Dean shoved you playfully toward the door of the backseat. You got in and settled down, allowing yourself to be sucked into slumber.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado

Quite a few tags were broken :(( so sorry!!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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apomaro-mellow · 2 years

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Inspired by this post where the older kids get walkie-talkies

“Hey Birdie, is the Master with you?”

Steve’s call got no response, even though he knew Robin never went far without her walkie-talkie.

“Birdie? Is the Master with you?”

Steve was about to get irate until he realize why she wasn’t responding and let out the biggest sigh and eye roll.

“Is the Master with you? Over.”

Finally a crackle came on. “He is indeed. Over.”

“Can you tell him to bring some chocolate chips when you guys come over? ....Over.”

“Can do! Over.”

“Excuse me”, Eddie’s voice came on the line. “Why doesn’t Birdie get the shopping list? Over.”

“Because she’ll either forget to go to the store, or go and get distracted and buy everything except what I asked for. Over.”

“You know me so well~ Over.”

“This is blatant favoritism. Over.”

“I’ll give you the first pick of cookies for your troubles. Over.”

“Complain rescinded.”

Steve smiled. “What was that?”

“Complaint rescinded. Over.”

---------

It had started with Nancy giving them the walkie-talkies, which seemed out of character for her until she gave the reason. They were only able to save Max because they had instant communication. And when they couldn’t reach the gang in California, it felt hopeless. So it had been a precaution. If anything happened, they’d have these. Spring Break came and went. As did the rest of spring. And their purpose quickly went from emergency communication to anything that came to their minds. The first time the kids found out about it, they decried copying.

Nancy was quick to say theirs was more serious. And it was true to an extent. They had codenames, they had protocols they followed. No one ever said Code Red without meaning it. The one time it had been used, Steve called on it after Robin got hit by a car trying to save a kid. If you asked anyone else, they would’ve said he was hysterical. If you asked Steve, he was appropriately concerned for his friend who was hanging by a thread. She walked away with a bruised rib and a couple of stitches.

“This is Wave Rider, asking for permission to land. Over”, Argyle said.

“This is the Master, you are granted. Over.”

Both boys gave each other goofy grins as they stood across from each other in front of Eddie’s trailer.

“Nancy would kill you two if she saw you using them in close proximity”, Jonathan said.

“What she won’t know won’t kill her, right?”, Eddie said.

“You don’t need to tell him twice”, Argyle grinned.

Jonathan gave him a good-natured nudge while the three of them went inside.

------

Steve and Robin had left Family Video and now worked at a nearby convenience store. The You Suck/Rule board had returned. Dustin vaguely remembered it. When he saw all the You Suck tallies, he figured Steve was repeatedly striking out with girls again.

“Maybe you should give up on chicks for a while”, he said one day, when he came for a slushie. “Doesn’t seem like it’s your forte nowadays.”

Steve slumping onto the counter made sense. But Robin’s raucous laughter, not so much.

“This is Birdie to Jonner-Than-You, come in. Over.”

“Jonner-Than-You here, Birdie. What’s your status? Over.”

“Apparently Loverboy here needs to give up on women. Dusty Buns says they’re not his forte.”

Dustin was about to argue that call sign when he heard Jonathan laugh the loudest he had ever heard.

Unbeknownst to him, the board wasn’t for whenever Steve struck out with girls. It was specifically when he struck out with Eddie whenever he came into their little corner of 7-11 heaven.

------------

“Big Wheel to the Master. Come in. Over.”

“The Master reporting. What’s up? Over.”

“Is Mini Wheels with you? Over?”

There was what could only be described as indignant squawking on the other end of the line. That confirmed her brother was indeed on the other end of the call.

“That’s a roger on that. Over.”

“Tell him that even if he’s in high school, he still has a curfew. And I’m not covering for him again. Over.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the message. Over.” Eddie looked over to Mike. “Hey Mini Wheels!”

“Stop calling me that!”

---------------

The six of them had gotten together for an afternoon hangout that slowly trickled down. Nancy had to get home, Jonathan left to meet up with a study group, and as day turned to night, Argyle drove Robin to her shift at the store. Which left Eddie and Steve alone at the Harrington Residence to finish off the movie they’d started.

Steve could do this. He could be smooth. He’d been striking out because the fact it was Eddie and not just some random girl made the stakes higher. Made him doubt himself. But the King Steve shit hadn’t been totally a lie. He could bring back just a bit. Enough to get Eddie to melt in his hands.

It started with playing with his hair and giving him meaningful looks. He’d made out with girls while a movie was on a bunch of times. Depending on how ready they were, it could be easy to pull them out of it.

When Eddie looked for too long at his lips, Steve knew he had him.

“Can I try something?”, Steve asked while curling a long lock around his finger.

Eddie nodded hesitantly before swallowing. “Y-yeah, go for it, dude.”

Steve leaned in slow, giving Eddie a chance to back out. He didn’t. The kiss was slow and warm and Steve’s hand went deeper into his hair. When he pulled away, Eddie came with him for a second kiss. This one went deeper and had Eddie pushing Steve back against the couch. When they parted this time, Steve felt like he was in a daze, when a realization came to him.

He jolted up, nearly knocking Eddie off the couch as he reached for the walkie-talkie. “This is Loverboy to Birdie. Put a point down for I rule cause Harrington’s still got it baby!”, he said, snapping excitedly.

“Bullshit”, Robin replied.

Eddie took the device from Steve. “This is the Master, confirming the Harrington does in fact, still have it. Over.” He then dropped the walkie-talkie onto the floor and went back to kissing Steve.

Argyle had made the astute observation that Robin had put down a tally right after he’d done a transaction with Steve, but Eddie hadn’t wanted to believe he had anything to do with that scoreboard.

-----------

“This is Jonner-Than-You, confirming the retrieval and delivery of five nuggets and a tall drink. Over.”

“Loverboy responding, it’s supposed to be six nuggets, a tall drink, and three sides. Over.”

“Mad Max went off to have dinner with Lucky Number and the sides are not cooperating. Over.”

“You tell the rest of that club that they better get their asses in that van. Nancy, Argyle, and I didn’t slave over a hot stove just for them to-”

Jonathan held up the walkie to the rest of the Hellfire club to hear all of Steve’s tirade. No one turned down an invitation to Sunday dinner. No one.

----------

The six of them laid out in the middle of a field, blissed out. For once, none of them had anywhere to be or anything to do. A perfect opportunity to waste time by passing a joint and watching the sky.

Jonathan picked up his walkie-talkie. “This is Jonner-Than-You reporting in. I love you guys.”

“Birdie to Jonner-Than-You, I love you too.”

“Um, Loverboy to Birdie. You’re supposed to love me best. Over.”

“Wave Rider responding. There’s enough love to go around. You should know that Loverboy.”

“You guys are high as fuck. Over”, Eddie said.

“Big Wheel to the group. Quit wasting your batteries. Over.”

“Birdie to Big Wheel. Not until you admit you love us. Over.”

That started a chant of “Love us. Love us.” through the walkie-talkies which made it reverberate even more until Nancy was covering her ears and everyone ditched the walkie-talkies to dog pile on top of her. Only then did she admit she loved these idiots.

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starlight-bread-blog · 10 months

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Things that happened in BoJack Horseman

A deep exploration of the 5 stages of grief through the stories of 3 people across time.

A realistic depiction of domestic violence, subtrance abuse, and how it all starts beautifully.

A story of a child Hollywoo star getting wrecked by life and fame which leads to an early death while also serving as a commentary of child celebrities and the way the industry can effect them.

A 50 almost taking advantege of a 17 year old and the long term effects on both of them.

A 20 minute monologue by the main character which is just a eulogy to his abusive mother (that got nominated for an Emmy).

A historically accurate story of a women from a luxurious family getting traumatized, and victimized by misogyny which leads her to a misrable life and becoming an abuser herself.

The full story of a couple getting married all the way to a divorce while unpacking why the marrige failed.

Also things that happened in BoJack Horseman

After many rewrites and changes, a movie ended up being a bimonthly curated box of snacks mid production.

Someone openned their own very unsafe DisneyLand, almost got sued but was saved because of a typo in the document copywriting DisneyLand.

An adult women dated 3 kids in a trench coat (which may or may not be a real adult).

A Hollywoo celebritie opened a store foor Halloween store for January with no floor, and Andrew Garfield fell down.

A character joined improv class that turned out to be a cult.

Character Actress Margo Martindale drive's another celebritie's bout straight to a ship full of spaggeti. Now the spagetti is cooking due to an ad that is actually a mirror, and because it's cooking, it's sinking straight to a city underwater. The Hot Sexy Killer Wale Uber and a celebritie who has just a bunch of spageti strainers laying around can stop it, but that person went to see a movie fir two hours.

A sex robot became a CEO of a company.

A Hollywoo celebritie challenged the governor of california to a ski race of which the winner will be the governor. His represent then does a bunch of legal gymnastics to make that happen. Said celebritie than admits to have no idea how to ski. In the end just some guy wins the race by accident and immediately resigns.

A house fell underground with celebrities in it so everyone kills and eats Zach Braff.

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starkwlkr · 2 months

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love in las vegas | mark webber

through the decades masterlist

Las Vegas, 1967

Mark didn’t know why he even agreed to accompany his friends to sin city. He would much rather stay in his cosy bed and sleep, but he knew how much the trip meant to his friend, Tom, since it was a bachelor party.

“Think we’ll get lucky tonight?” Tom asked Mark as they walked the Las Vegas strip. Tom had talked all day about going to the casino so he was more than confident that he would be walking home with a few hundred dollars.

“I don’t want to jinx it.” Mark chuckled. Soon the group of friends found themselves in Caesars Palace. Mark never imagined himself at such a fancy place like Caesars Palace. He always thought it was for big name celebrities like Paul Newman and Audrey Hepburn.

Still he was here to enjoy time with his friends.

“Hey, I think I’m going to check out the rest of the building. I heard the pool is pretty nice.” Mark said to the group, but no one heard him since they were too busy on the slot machines.

He walked away and found himself wandering around. He wasn’t sure what direction the pool was located in so he kept walking and admiring the art work on the walls. That was until a sweet voice caught his attention.

“Honestly, Mary, why can’t I go alone? I’ve done it once, I can do it again. Fuck what the press thinks, they already think I’m a bitch!”

Mark watched as the most beautiful woman in the world walked down the hall. She had on red heart glasses and wore a shade of red lipstick that Mark loved. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her until he almost bumped into a wall.

“Mary, I’m going to be by the pool. All this thinking is making me stressed and I can’t be stressed.” Mark didn’t want to seem like a stalker, but he was going to the pool either way.

He watched as you were greeted by every person as you made your way to a cabana. You took your sunglasses off and laid on the lounge chairs.

Go talk to her . . No, she’s busy. . But it can’t hurt, right? It might! Think positive!

His inner thoughts were stopped when you called for him. He looked around thinking you were calling someone else, but he was proven wrong when you pointed at him.

“You are talking to me . . ” Mark nervously chuckled as he approached your cabana.

“Well yeah, you look lost.” You laughed. “You have an accent. I take it you’re not from here.”

“No, I’m from Australia. I’m just here with a couple of friends. They’re in the casino.” Mark explained.

“You can sit down, I don’t have germs.” You joked when you noticed that he was still standing. So Mark sat in the lounge chair across from you. “How are you liking Vegas?”

“It’s loud that’s for sure. It’s . . . perfect for those fancy rich celebrities. Especially those actors like that guy from to kill a mockingbird!”

“Gregory Peck? He’s lovely. Wonderful kisser too.” You reply with a smirk.

“What? Is it like a rumor?”

“No, I speak from experience. It was also lovely to work with him. He invited me to his house in California. I declined, but it was still nice of him to invite me.” You recalled the time your friend had invited you to his California home.

“Wait . .” Mark thought for a second. “You’re —”

You nodded. “One of those ‘fancy rich celebrities’ except I don’t come to Vegas often. I’m only here a couple hours. You see, I am supposed to be on a flight to Santa Monica for the academy awards, but I wanted to spend some time here. I like it here, it’s one of the few places I enjoy.”

Mark instantly felt like an idiot. He didn’t mean to insult you. Well then again, he didn’t know you acted. He hardly watches any new movies anyways. He had been busy with racing.

“I never asked you your name.” You said.

“Mark.” The Australian replied.

“Well Mark, do you want to explore Vegas with me?”

Mark didn’t have to think twice. You took him to your favorite restaurants, took pictures with your Polaroid and walked the strip until your feet ached. But there was one final stop that was a must do when you’re in Vegas.

Graceland Wedding Chapel

Was it a stupid decision? You and Mark didn’t think so.

That night, you had married a nice stranger.

“I can’t believe that we just got married!” Mark said as you walked out of the chapel with the certificate in hand. “Holy shit, we’re married!”

“Call me Mrs. Webber.” You held out the hand that Mark had been holding. The Australian grabbed it and kissed it.

“I think this is the best night of my life.” Mark sighed. “Wait, that makes my life sound extremely sad. Don’t listen to me.”

You laughed. “It’s okay. This is the best night of my life too and I’ve been to so many places, but being here with you is my favorite.”

As Mark leaned in to place a kiss on your lips, you gasped and pulled back. You had completely forgotten about the academy awards ceremony that you needed to attend in a few hours.

“I need to go! Wait, you need to go with me too!” You said.

“What? I can’t!”

“Why not? We just need to get to Santa Monica, get you a suit and get to the ceremony. I’m nominated for best actress!”

Best actress? You couldn’t miss that!

“Fine, but if my friends find out I ditched them—”

“They won’t notice you’re gone, I promise.”

Mark grabbed your hand and together you ran to the parking lot where his Porsche had been parked. Before you could get the chance, he opened the door for you and gave you a charming smile.

“Mrs. Webber.” He winked.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Webber.” You blushed.

Soon, you and Mark were on your way to Santa Monica. Mark had rolled the windows down and turned up the music. It was perfect. You could feel the cool air going through your hair, the sweet sound of ‘I think we’re alone now’ by Tommy James and The Shondelles filled your ears. Mark kept glancing at you every chance he got. In his eyes, you were the love of his life. He was a firm believer in soulmates and here you were in the passenger seat of his Porsche. You were living proof that love at first sight existed and he was head over heels in love with you.

The four hours it took to get to Santa Monica, you and Mark talked, sang and you even got a few minutes to nap. When you arrived, you took Mark to get a suit. Mark had only wore a suit a handful of times. He hated wearing them as a child, but now they weren’t too bad.

“What if I get asked a question?” Mark asked. “I don’t know anything about movies or actors!”

“Relax, i lie when I don’t know stuff. It’s fun.” You smile.

“It’s easy for you, you’re an actress. Wait, what if someone asks who I am to you? Don’t you have to talk to your manager or someone important before you say something?” Mark was too busy stressing while you were busy thinking how you were going to celebrate even if you didn’t win.

“Tell them the truth. You’re my husband, is that a bad thing?”

Being married wasn’t a bad thing, especially if you were his wife, mark thought. He would marry you everyday of his life if he could.

“I’ll scream it from the highest rooftop if I have to.” He kissed you.

After giving the cashier his last fifty dollars for the suit, Mark drove you to the Beverly Hills Hotel where your manager and makeup team were. He had never stepped foot in such a fancy hotel like the Beverly Hills before, sure he was in Cesars palace not too long ago, but the Beverly Hills was an upgrade.

You eventually made it to your room and entered the suite. Again, Mark was amazed by every little thing from the painting on the wall to the fluffy pillows. You honestly found it adorable.

“Where have you been?” Your makeup artist, Alexander, asked you.

“It’s a long story. Alex meet Mark, Mark meet Alex. There, we’re all good on introductions for now.” You smiled as you sat in the makeup chair.

“Where did you find him?” Alexander questioned as he got started on your makeup.

“Vegas. He’s Australian and he’s technically my husband. I’m Mrs. L/n-Webber.” You stated confidently. You were living up to the title now.

“What!?” Mark stood beside your chair not knowing if Alexander hated him or not. He wished he was anywhere else.

“Relax, we won’t say anything about it to the press.”

And that was the biggest lie. Well, sort of.

By the end of the night, Mark was introduced to most of the biggest faces in Hollywood. He got to walk the red carpet and posed for pictures with you. He also got to witness you win your first academy award where you publicly declared your love for him.

“Lastly, I want to thank Mark. These past few hours have been the craziest, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” You spoke into the microphone as you held your golden statue in your hands.

Mark was seated beside your manager, Henry, who was thankful the night was almost over. Little did Mark know that his friends had been watching the ceremony in their Vegas hotel room. Some of them were still drinking while others wondered how Mark even got an academy award winner to marry him.

The Australian smiled as you left the stage. This was certainly an interesting night that nobody would forget and nobody did. You and Mark stayed married. While Mark raced all over the world, you worked on numerous films and won awards. During the summer of 1969, you gave birth to your first child, a girl named Diana. Then four years later, your baby boy was born. Little Michael Webber, a spitting image of his father. You were in love with your little family even if it all started with a wild night in Vegas. You wouldn’t change any of it.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mark webber fluff #actress!reader #through the decades series

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seaslugfanclub · 3 months

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Hi! How you doin? I saw that Clayton and Alameda fell under the "Crush/Romantic feelings" category in one of your previous posts and was wondering if I could request some separate imagines on them? Since there's not much mention of them in your other works (especially Clayton), just to get an idea of what they're like with (Y/N). Please and thank you!

Sure!! I’d love to write more about Clayton, he’s so underrated 😭 Enjoy!

—————————————

Clayton

He’s one of the more… aloof villains of the park. Unlike the others who parade around the park giving backhanded compliments and insulting the elderly, Clayton tends to stay more on the sidelines.

I mean… the only thing he really liked to do was hunt, and he can’t exactly skewer any living creatures at the “happiest place on earth”

Though what he wouldn’t give to make a new coat out of that sardonically scarred lion…

With our beloved park attendant (Y/N), they found a couple ways to get along with him.

(Y/N) asked him about his hunting expeditions and his time in Victorian England

As much as (Y/N) hates the idea of killing for the sake of killing, Clayton can tell one hell of a story. He becomes super animated, hands waving around and voice super loud. He even got Gaston’s attention.

Other villains walked in on both (Y/N) and Gaston sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor as Clayton relayed the tale of his expedition in Peru like it was story time

He LOVES showing off his skills and strength, and what can I say, (Y/N) loves a show

As for the romantic aspect of Clayton and (Y/N)’s relationship, I believe Clayton fell first

Clayton was a man from Victorian England, where it was risqué for a women to show her ankles

Now imagine Clayton seeing (Y/N) in small summer wear attire, it is Florida/California after all…

During one of Clayton’s tantrums, he ended up screaming in (Y/N)’s face. And what did they do? They slapped him across the face, shocking him to silence

No one has ever dared lay a finger on him, and as (Y/N) immediately apologized to him he could only think one thing; “that was hot”

Clayton isn’t used to someone being genuinely interested in his past, and the way that (Y/N) looks at him when he retails his adventures keeps the Englishman up at night

It’s weird, but (Y/N) loves how big Clayton’s hands are, like they take one of his hands and covers their entire face with it, much to Clayton’s embarrassment

(Y/N) is now Clayton’s official backpack, they cling to this man as he walks around the park. Clayton loves showing off his strength and (Y/N) loves being carried

—————————————

Alameda Slim

Cowboy time baby

Alameda is one of the most unknown villains, like no one cares

But (Y/N) does, (Y/N) always tries to get Alameda included with the Villains and park activities

Whenever there’s a big crowd, Alameda always gravitates to (Y/N)

The size difference between them omg

(Y/N) brings Alameda old country music records, he now has a whole milk crate filled with albums

Gives (Y/N) mini concerts, yodeling along to the records

They have movie nights together in the common area watching old westerns! Alameda always interrupts the movie pointing out all the inaccuracies

One time Alameda tried to show (Y/N) how to square dance, and accidentally made them go airborne when he tried to spin them around

(Y/N)’s super curious about Alamedas yodeling, does it only affect cows? They decided to experiment on a bunch of different animals around the park, much to the park goers dismay

Turned out the only other animal effected by yodeling is… pigeons

Alameda ended up running for his life, a horde of hypnotized pigeons chasing after him

(Y/N) ended up having to convince Alameda it was safe to go outside again, after he barricaded himself in his room

Alameda likes to plop his cowboy hat on (Y/N)s head when it gets to hot outside

#disney villains #self insert #disney imagine #disney x reader #alameda slim #home on the range #Clayton #Disney clayton #tarzan

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luckybyler · 3 months

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It’s PAINFULLY OBVIOUS that Stranger Things was meant to be three seasons long: season 1, 2, and a previous version of what we will now know as season 5.

I’m not saying that seasons 3 and 4 are bad, they’re great. But they very much feel like a detour from the original plan.

We know the show was meant to last more than 1 season because Noah auditioned for Will by reading the “crazy together” scene from season 2. We know it was meant to last more than two seasons because in the original script of the snowball dance they had Will looking longingly at Mike, which implies there was still stuff to be explored (we may be able to find clues in other, monster-related plots). However, they removed Will’s look towards Mike and added an unscripted Mileven kiss. This was a deliberate choice to stretch these storylines further instead of being resolved in the third, originally final season. They also came up with that horrid hidden spin-off pilot that was episode 7.

Seasons 3 and 4 feel like a forced detour from the original plan: the whole dealing with a lot of summer tween/early teenager angst, “killing” Hopper then immediately showing us that he’s not dead, retrofitting Vecna into the story, which meant giving El the soap opera-esque “stroke” as a justification for why she could barely talk when there were other kids there; “killing” Brenner then bringing him back *again* just to kill him *again*, making El lose her powers for a minute yet get them back *again*. Making the Byers move to California just to bring them back *again*, having El learning about fashion just to regress *again*, breaking up Mileven twice just to get them back together *again*. And made Byler fall out then reconnect *again*, then Will look at Mike longingly while he gave his speech to El, a heightened version of what was supposed to happen at the Snowball dance. They even rehashed Steve’s feelings for Nancy *again*.

Trim the fat from Seasons 3 and 4, and all the main characters are in a place where they would have been a couple of episodes or maybe halfway into a hypothetical 3rd and final season: Jopper are together; Jancy are together but have the college thing to talk about, Mileven are together but there’s doubt that Mike loves her, Byler are full of romantic tension but getting interrupted, Max has just been attacked and is the one in a coma this time while Lucas suffers, Dustin just experienced the loss of a big brother figure (clearly a placeholder for Steve), Hawkins is destroyed by the Upside Down, etc.

My theory is that the Duffers were working on Season 2 when Netflix addressed Stranger Things’ sudden massive popularity, sat them down, asked them to make it five season instead at least, and they said “fine”, so they tweaked the middle in order to get back to (more of less) their original idea for the ending.

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #this was a reply to another post #but I made it its own post because I want people to read this

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mysharona1987 · 5 months

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When this simple idea you had about cutting open a cake starts to have a literal body count.

#oppenheimer #california #gender reveal #politics #Oscars

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girljeremystrong · 9 days

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books about dads and about family and about complicated feelings

FICTION

they're going to love you by meg howrey: carlisle goes back to greenwich village to her father's house and finds herself dealing with her complicated feelings towards her dad.

foster by claire keegan: a story about a young girl who's sent to live with another family and founds a love she wasn't familiar with before.

the namesake by jhumpa lahiri: most beautiful novel by our gratest author about the son of immigrants from calcutta growing up in america.

east of eden by john steinbeck: the nobel prize winning greatest story of a father growing two very different boys in california.

still life by sarah winman: ulysses finds himself with a child and chooses to become the best man he can for her (and they move to italy).

unlikely animals by annie hartnett: emma's dad has a mysterious brain disease so she drops out of med school and goes back home. it's a delightful story.

the family chao by lan samantha chang: a retelling of the brothers karamazov set in a modern day chinese restaurant in america.

the incredible winston browne by sean dietrich: sheriff browne recieves some bad news and suddenly he finds himself taking care of a runaway girl who doesn't speak.

we begin at the end by chris whitaker: duchess is only a kid but she takes care of her little brother with all she has even when circumstances keep getting worse and worse.

razorblade tears by s. a. crosby: two black men are killed and their fathers, who always had trouble accepting their sexualities, decide to get justice.

the sweetness of water by nathan harris: in the waning days of the civil war two brothers find refuge with a couple in a farm.

salvage the bones by jesmyn ward: esch's brothers and her dad in the 12 days before during and after hurricane katrina. a modern classic and one of the most beautiful books ever.

the patron saint of liars by ann patchett: in a kentucky home for unwed mothers, a woman meets a man and can't escape her past.

homeland elegies by ayad akhtar: a very personal story of a man and his father dealing with feelings of dispossession and belongings. again one of the best books in the world.

NON-FICTION

the three mothers by anna malaika tubbs: the story of the three women who raised and shaped martin luther king jr., malcolm x and james baldwin.

how to say babylon by safyia sinclair: a memoir of a childhood shaped by a volatile father.

beautiful country by qian julie wang: after moving from china to the usa young qian finds a place among books as her family struggles to adapt to their new home as undocumented immigrants.

between the world and me by ta-nehisi coates: a black father shares his fears for his son growing up in current day america.

#all of these are good but message me if you want specifics #or links #book recs #books #bookblr #dark academia #for the notes #claire keegan #john steinbeck #jhumpa lahiri #jesmyn ward #ann patchett #ayad akhtar

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scoobydoodean · 1 year

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1.11 "Scarecrow" is also yet another situation where Dean genuinely wants to help people but in his anger, all Sam can see is Dean following orders. He doesn't really get that Dean cares about the victims and he wants to save the people involved, and it isn't all about blind faith in John. Like. "Following orders" is a facet of their conversation, but it's small in terms of Dean's personal motivations which are chiefly to help and save others. Couples taking cross-country trips are being killed every year on the same day, and Dean wants to stop it from happening again! The case IS time sensitive. If Dean were to drop it and go to California with Sam and look for the dude who doesn't want to be found like Sam wanted when he said "WE" are not going to Indiana "WE" are going to California—what he would ultimately be doing, in his mind, is abandoning that couple to die. And that is simply not something Dean is going to do just to go looking for a guy who doesn't want to be found and will make every effort to dodge them if they do go looking.

#1.11 #pk rewatches spn number ?#dean the narrative heart #the one who cares #deans moral compass #sams moral compass #season 1

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greenorangevioletgrass · 1 year

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given the circumstances (part 1) | b.r.b.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x actress!reader

summary: your relationship with Bradley goes from 0 to 100 after a little happy accident. [Part of “The Actress & The Aviator” universe]

word count: 5.9k

Warnings: established relationship, language, pregnancy, mention of vomit/nausea, accidental pregnancy, fluff, smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, hint of mommy kink?, breeding kink, size kink, creampie]

notes: they’re back babeyyyy! This is set about 1.5 years after the events in “It’s Classified”, and it fills in the gap of the blurbs I did a while ago. But you don’t have to read it first, this can be read as a standalone. I have missed writing for them so much, and I hope you enjoy reading this! <3

✨ follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words <3 happy reading and please reblog if you liked it! ✨

PART ONE

You’ve been New York-bound for six whole months, doing two shows on Broadway back-to-back. Bradley came to visit you for your musical’s opening night about two months in (and again for your second show, a modern take of Romeo & Juliet), but with your shows and his sudden deployment to God knows where for three months, the time and space apart was killing you.

Which is why you’re determined to take some time off as soon as you’re done, just to be with your stupidly handsome fiance at home in the stupidly sunny California.

Your first month or so was a bliss. You would wake up to the smell of your coffee, and saunter into the kitchen where Bradley would kiss you good morning. There’s no rigid structure to your days, save for the occasional work meetings. Most of your time is spent playing house with your fiance, redecorating the house you both barely lived in before you were called off to work. Wandering around and jotting down inspirations for your new screenplay. Treating yourself to frozen yogurts and manicures. Adjusting to life in the San Clemente neighborhood of Orange County.

(Bradley made a joke about you joining The Real Housewives soon, which earned him an elbow to the rib. Whatever. He was more Housewife material than you anyway.)

But halfway through your second month, you started feeling lethargic and just… off. You chalked it up to the weather and exhaustion, since you’ve been back to work, going to pre-production meetings for your upcoming movie. You tried to brush it off with vitamins and heartier meals, powering through for a couple of days.

“You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good…” Bradley looks at you in concern when you shuffle into the kitchen that morning.

You’re really not, but you blatantly refuse to acknowledge that. “I’m fine. Still tired, is all. I just need some…” the coffee scent wafts in the air—the same scent that always woke you up in a good mood these past six months—and you gag. “Oh fuck.”

Bradley’s voice calling out your name sounds distant as you dash towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before you puke your guts out.

“Hey…” he holds your hair back with one hand while the other rubs your back patiently. Staying calm despite his head is running a mile a minute in panic. “What happened, sweetheart?”

Everything feels like hell from your mouth to your stomach, and you groan as you pull the flush. “I have no idea. I just… I could smell the coffee and suddenly…” you motion at the toilet. “I mean, what the fuck?”

He sighs, wiping off sweat from your forehead and brushing the strands of hair sticking on it. “Maybe it’s stress?” he guesses, although they both know it’s unlikely. You’ve been keeping it relatively chill since you got here. “Or a stomach bug? Or…”

You look up to find his brown eyes softly gazing at yours, in worry and concern and… “Or what?”

He grimaces almost apologetically, and you slowly catch what he means.

“No. No way. Nuh-uh.” you shake your head so quickly, you give yourself a headache. “I’m on birth control. I’ve never missed a day…” That’s not true. As the words leave your mouth, you remember the surprise trip Bradley took you to Big Sur one weekend where you forgot both your pills and condoms…

Fuck.

“Babe… What date is it?”

He stammers for a bit, “Um, the— it’s the 18th.”

You do the mental math, counting the time gap between today and the Big Sur trip, and your last period… and your eyes widen. Your head is swirling, and so is your stomach.

“Sweetheart, do you think you might be—”

Before he can say the damned word, you feel the bile rising again. Your pointer finger lifts up in wait, as you bury your face in the toilet and throw up once more.

His heart catches. You’ve talked about having a baby, and you’ve talked about wanting to have one… some time in the future. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Butterflies fill his stomach at the possibility of you carrying his baby right now at this very moment, but the sight of you looking so… defeated by your own body is enough to create a nasty pit in his gut.

“What can I get for you, baby?” he asks softly, caressing the back of your neck.

There’s absolutely nothing else to empty from your stomach at this point. It’s basically just water and dry heaving, and your eyes are tearing up from the terrible sensation.

“Ginger ale from the fridge…” you manage between heavy breaths, “...and some test packs from the pharmacy, please.”

“Okay, sure. Got it. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” He offers both his hands and gently pulls you up. If he’s nervous or excited or both, he does a pretty good job of not showing it. He pulls up some tissues from the bathroom counter and wipes your mouth without batting an eye.

He lays you down on your side, getting you all nice and comfy, before disappearing into the kitchen, returning with a can of ginger ale and a puke bucket, just in case.

“Sweetheart?” his hand is soft and warm on your cheek, and his voice even more so. “Drink up. Hope it’ll settle your stomach a little bit.”

You sit up a little, and take small sips from the can. At least it helps alleviate the bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

“I put your phone on the bedside. Call me if you need me, alright? I’m just gonna run over to CVS. Be back before you know it.” He kisses your forehead, and you make a face in protest.

“I’m gross right now!”

“I don’t care,” he chuckles. “Just rest up. Love you.”

Of course he knows what to do. Picture perfect Bradley Bradshaw, who knows how to be caring without being overbearing. Who kisses your clammy forehead after you puke your guts out. Who is literally running to the nearest drugstore to get her pregnancy test packs right now, for fuck’s sake. He’s just… perfect.

You lie back down and smush your face into the pillow, faced with the fact that you’ll never be able to live up to that. And if you can’t… how the hell are you supposed to raise a child? How the hell are you supposed to pull your weight when your fiance can already do it so well?

“Babe?” He calls out upon entering the house a few short minutes later. “I’m back. I got the…” his words trail off as he walks into the bedroom and sees you in tears. His whole features soften up as he approaches you gingerly, sitting by your side. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

You shake your head as you sit up, sniffling a little. “What are those?” You nod at the paper bag he put down on the foot of the bed, hoping it’ll divert the conversation a little. It’s a little too big for just a bunch of pregnancy test sticks.

“The tests. And some snacks I thought might help with your stomach.”

And with that, the tears burn the corners of your eyes again and your lips quiver as they fail to hold back the cries.

“How are you so good at this?!”

He pauses in confusion, and then… it dawns on him. An amused glint appears in his eyes. “Are you… crying because I got a good bedside manner?”

Your hands fly up to your face, hiding it from view. “I’m not! Shut up!” You really were, but he didn’t have to say it like that… and your reaction only confirmed his speculation.

Bradley chuckles. God, he loves your silly little antics. “I mean, I had to take care of my mom all through high school, so…” he shrugs sheepishly.

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand. An uncomfortable awkwardness sets in as you remember his late mother’s terminal illness, right in the peak of his high school years. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m just… glad I’m doing it right?” He smiles in reassurance, wiping what’s left of your tears and kissing your nose. He lifts up the ginger ale can to your hand again. “You lost a lot of fluids to make up for. Drink up some more, and we’ll do the tests, yeah?”

You glance at the paper bag again, watching him fishing around… “How many pregnancy test packs did you get?”

“I got three just to be safe.”

You want to laugh, but you probably would’ve ransacked the test kits too, if you were the one to buy it. So instead, you nod slowly, ponderously. “Three is… three is good.”

You know how these test kits work, they’re all the same, but you insist on reading the instructions pamphlet anyway. With two other test kits to spare, Bradley simply takes another copy from another box to read.

“Pee on a stick, wait for up to 5 minutes.” You put down the pamphlet on the counter. “Easy enough.” You sigh like it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

And it is. Every tick of the clock feels louder and farther from the one before, and you’re trying your damnedest not to look back onto the counter where the blue-tipped sticks are lined up. Inspecting it up close and see the lines that appear.

You sigh in exasperation, breaking the stilted silence. “I don’t even know what I’m hoping for, if I’m honest. Is that weird?”

He shakes his head a little. “Not at all. This is a weird situation to be in, I think it makes sense if we’re still not sure what we want.”

“Do you know what you’re hoping for?” You turn your head towards him. Maybe you’ll know it when you hear it.

“Honestly? No.” Yes. He knows exactly what he wants. He just doesn’t want to admit it and freak you out even more. “I’m just thinking about you. About us…”

“What about us?”

“Just that… whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”

Bless him. It would be infuriating if you weren’t so comforted by it. Leave it to Bradley to always know just the right thing to say.

And he means every word of it too. Yes, he wants a baby with you now, but you don’t, or if it doesn’t turn out to be now, then… he can stand to wait a little more. For as long as you need.

“How long do we have left?”

Bradley joins your gaze towards the nautical clock on the wall. A silly little gag gift you gave him last Christmas, for your favorite flying seaman.

“Three minutes and fifteen seconds…?”

“That’s about the average length of a pop song.”

He grins. “Exactly. One pop song, and we’ll find out.”

You nod. Listening to the tick, tick, tick of the clock. It drones on and on, and it seems to lull slower as it goes. Fuck Einstein and his theory of relativity. You pick the first random song that pops into your head and holds onto it for dear life. It’s your only way of keeping track of the time, at this point.

“I took my love, I took it down…” you sing under your breath, tentatively.

Bradley snorts. “It’s a good song.” That’s an understatement. He adores Fleetwood Mac, and this is the first song he learned on the guitar when he was 10.

“Climbed a mountain and I turned around…” you throw him a side-eye, a more than obvious invitation to join you.

Bradley has his eyes closed, though. But he nods along and sings along in his warm voice, “And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hill…”

“‘Til the landslide brought me down.”

The two of you are singing with your whole chests now, belting out the chorus to drown out your nerves, forcing yourself to stay on tempo even when you feel like rushing it to the end. Right now, it’s more like Nick Miller’s nervous singing from New Girl than a beautiful bathroom jam session, but you don’t care. Bradley is vocalizing the guitar solo part like the back of his hand, playing the air guitar and everything, and you’re so, so happy that out of all the people in the world, you’re doing this with him.

And at that moment, you realize that your worries earlier today were misguided. Yes, Bradley knows how to take care of you, and he probably knows a thing or two about babies. But he’s on your side. He’ll be pulling the weight with you. Being good parents is not a competition—you know he’ll cheer you on like he is doing right now. He knows you’ll do the same for him, too.

Well I’ve been afraid of changes

‘cause I’ve built my life around you

But time makes you bolder, even children get older

and I’m getting older too

You didn’t notice it at first, but Bradley also softens up on the final chorus, lost in his own thoughts. He has built his life on self-preservation, protecting himself from the lies of the people he loved, and depriving him of the love and family he’s always wanted. But maybe it’s age or the wounds healing (or you swooping into his life at just the right moment)… but he’s not gonna live forever. He knows in his heart of hearts that he wants this baby. He wants this life with you.

When you ask him to look and tell you the results, he doesn’t even flinch. He just nods, kissing your temple as he reaches for all three test kits behind you. His hand shakes a little as he picks them up, though, flipping to see the indicator side. One line for negative, two for positive.

And there it is.

“They’re…” his throat catches, his face unreadable. “They’re all positive…”

“What?”

He shows you the test kits, two blue lines all across the board. His voice wavers, with tears and smiles at the same time. “We’re having a baby.”

“Oh my God…” you walk into his arms in a daze, still not sure what you’re feeling. Are you relieved because you simply know the answer, or relieved because it’s true? Are you terrified because you want it or you don’t?

Bradley cups your face with both hands, tucking unruly strands of hair behind your ear. His brown eyes brimming with tears, blurry as he admires your beauty. The mother of his child. Gosh, he can’t believe his luck.

“How do you feel, honey?”

It tugs at your heartstrings, just how soft he is. So brave, and so gentle at the same time. You have no idea what kind of parent you would be, but you know he would make a great one. “Shocked,” you admit. He nods. “Scared.” This time, you’re a bit embarrassed, but he completely empathizes. “But…” you put your hand over his, closing your eyes as you lean your cheek against his palm, so warm and soft and right, “…happy.”

***

And after two months of a relatively slow life, things are going from zero to 100 very quickly.

Bradley manages to duck out of work early and take you to the doctor that very afternoon. Everything seems to be in order. The baby is, indeed, there— a 7-week-old blob as big as a blueberry with a heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Your heart all but stops beating when you first hear it, much stronger than you thought it would. But there it is. Strong. Alive.

There.

“That’s… that’s our baby…” You choke up, staring at the ultrasound screen in awe. His hand brings yours to his lips for a loving kiss.

Gosh, you must’ve cried about six times that day. Bradley twice as much (He would deny it to his grave, but you kept count.)

And then, once the novelty wears off a little and the new situation sets in… the two of you get to work.

Bradley updates the entire kitchen inventory and goes into a research (or, as you like to call it, a rabbit hole) into what you can or cannot consume during your pregnancy. You’re constantly on the phone with your agent to rearrange your schedule for the next year (he sounds happy that you’re expecting, but a little inconvenienced that he has to move some things around and even cancel your involvement in a few projects). Conversation topics at mealtimes now include baby names, nursery ideas, and childcare plans.

Bradley comes home to you huddled over your laptop one evening, brows knitted in focus. The AC is cranked up to the max in the summer heat, and you’re all bundled up in the throw blanket. He wants to squee over how cute you look. He puts down the takeout bag of Pad Thai on the coffee table.

“Whatcha got there, my little cocoon?”

“Insurance, mostly.” You look up to kiss him briefly, before you continue typing on. “I’ve been talking to them all afternoon, going through the birth plans and sorting everything out. Very exciting stuff.”

“Hell yeah! Paperwork! The thrill of calling up an insurance company on a Tuesday!” Bradley counters your deadpan with an overexcited cheer, flopping himself on the spot next to you with another big kiss. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Well,” you take a thoughtful deep breath, going through your mental to-do list and realizing… you’re pretty much all set. “How about a back massage?” You give him the puppy eyes, as if you needed it in the first place.

“Copy that, Ma’am.” He throws her a lazy salute and tugs the throw blankets off of you. He starts on your shoulders, noticing the tension under your skin. “Jeez, babe. How long have you been hunched over here?”

Before you can answer him, he’s already working the knots on the base of your neck, you don’t even know you were so tense there, and you respond with a resounding moan.

He raises his eyebrows. “I’ll… take that as a compliment, then.” He grins, ever so proud that he’s eliciting these sounds out of you.

It’s not like you were playing it up or anything. You really were tense, and his hands really do feel good. And while it does make you moan and sigh blissfully, it’s hardly your fault that it makes him think of something else, right?

“Baby…” his voice sounds like a gentle warning.

“Yes?”

His hands stop. “Don’t test me.”

“Oh, okay. Would you prefer this instead?” you grunt oafishly, a piss-poor impression of him in bed, “Fuck baby, that’s it. That’s it. Good girl…”

“Hey!” he pokes his fingers to your side and cage you in his arms so you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to avoid his ministrations.

You giggle uncontrollably, squirming as he gets on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face. A mere distraction to his real tickle attacks. “Stop! Stop! Roo-roo!”

He pins your arms over your head, his cheeks tinged pink with mischief now. “Yield?”

“I’m willing to negotiate.” You flash him a coy smirk.

He frowns. Go on.

You raise an eyebrow. You know what I’m talking about.

He raises his, mirroring you. Interesting…

You tilt your head slightly. Well?

And just like that…

“Deal.”

Your lips meet each other halfway in a searing kiss. The pregnancy hormones are kicking in in full gear, and you’re needier. Much needier than you already are. You want Bradley all the time, in whatever form he’s in, in whatever situation you are in. He knows this, and he finds this endlessly adorable. He would poke fun at you for that…

If only he wasn’t so god-fucking-damned enamored by you for it.

He tears off your dress, reveling in the sheer sight of you. Your curves growing softer, more pronounced in the past month alone. The very subtle but steadfast roundness of your belly. Your breasts, as they grow fuller and—

“Oh…” you whimper as he rolls your nipple between your fingers.

More sensitive to the touch.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this…” he leans down to kiss you again; on the mouth, and on the neck… his tongue gliding across your collarbones, forming the shape of your mounds, one after another…

“Roo, take me to bed…”

“Or what, lose me forever?”

He grazes the outer parts of your nipple with his teeth and teasingly licks at the hardened tops, and you cry out. Such a small little thing, but you feel the sensation in your fingertips.

Bradley smiles. A soft look despite how the situation is escalating. “C’mere, baby.”

With your legs wrapped around his waist, he lifts you up off of the couch. You think it’s just to get you up on your feet, but then he’s not letting go. “You’re not seriously thinking about carrying me all the way upstairs, right?” A teasing frown sets on your face as he hauls you out of the living room.

“Are you assuming that I can’t carry my beautifully pregnant wife to our room?”

“I’m not your wife yet, you know— oh shit!” He pins you against the wall right by the stairs, one hand cradling the back of your head, ever so caring.

He mouths your neck in teasing, his breath fanning against your bare skin. “No? So I don’t have to perform my husbandly duties now, since you’re not my wife?”

It’s kind of hot… but you can’t help but make a face at his choice of words. “You need to stop watching Downton Abbey. Just say ‘fuck.’ It’s not that hard.”

He pulls away, his comeback locked and loaded and ready to go. “You can’t tell me what to do. Who are you, my wife or something?”

“Ugh!” your jaw falls open in a mock offended expression, and you smack his ass playfully.

In turn, he squeezes yours back. Tight. Possessive. There’s a shift in his gaze, a tiny sliver, a darkening—the kind that makes you feel even more naked than you already are. You look at him with unbridled lust, and he kisses you like it’s the only way he can breathe. Like he’s been holding his breath until he can get his hands on you.

And by God, you would let him have all the air you have left to give.

He carries up to the bedroom slowly, carefully, and you hold onto him tight. Reveling in how strong he’s built, all muscles and abs and everything, and how gentle he handles you as he sets you down on the edge of the bed. The epitome of a gentleman, as he kneels down between your legs.

You can feel the heat emanating from him—or is it you?— and you try to unbutton his khaki uniform. “Baby, don’t you wanna take off your…” your words die out as his chest moves out of reach. There is only his hair between your thighs.

His tongue between your folds.

“Fuuuuck…” you bite through your teeth. And once his finger joins in, you’re done for.

You make no effort to hold back your obscene moans, but the wet sounds coming from your pussy are still louder. Your face grows hot as the noise bounces through your bedroom walls.

Bradley pulls his mouth away for a moment, smirking devilishly at you from between his legs. “Well well well… What’s got you this soaking wet, honey?”

You bite your lip, trying to keep it together. But you’re teetering dangerously closer to your release, and you whine out, “You, Daddy…”

He chuckles darkly. “Daddy’s got you all worked up, huh?” The use of the moniker has significantly increased since the news of your pregnancy, but you’re hardly complaining. It does hit different now that he’s actually gonna be one. “I’ve been home for two minutes, and you’re already dripping down your legs…” he slaps the inside of your thigh and you’re keeling into it. “So fucking cute.”

He watches you fuck yourself on his fingers and it makes you dizzy. “Please…”

“Please what?” His mustache tickles your clit, and it drives you wild. “Please stop?”

You whimper in protest.

He adds another finger into you, and raises an expectant eyebrow. This fucking asshole. A snide remark sits right at the tip of your tongue, but the only thing that comes out is,

“Please fuck me.”

He stops, straightening up with an intrigued look about him. Then, being a little shit, he comes back up to you with a kiss. “Good girl. There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You taste yourself on his lips, his mustache wet from your arousal, too. In any other case, you would be more proactive, more feral in returning his sentiment—tearing off his clothes and stuffing your mouth full of his cock. But lately you’ve been feeling more… submissive. So easily drunk on climax that you just surrender your pleasure to your man, knowing he’ll take care of you.

Bradley stands up to his full height, towering over you. He toes off his shoes, unbuttoning his uniform. It’s hardly a striptease routine, but there’s something insanely hot about him undressing when he’s about to fuck you.

His shirt drops to the floor, and the white undershirt soon joins. You perk up at the sound of his belt unbuckling, pants rustling down. And as his hard cock springs free from his boxers, you swallow thickly at the sight.

“You ready?” He pumps his fist around his hard-on a few times, as he settles between your legs, still standing on the side of the bed.

A quiet little please escapes you, and then a gasp, as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. Lining up his cock against your entrance. He’s big, and your pussy is still aching after he edged you moments ago. It’s gonna be a tight fit.

“Honey, go slow. Please. Slowslowslowslow… ahh!” His cock slides into you in one swift movement, sending a blinding wave of pain and pleasure as it stretches you out.

He doesn’t tear his eyes off of you. He watches your face fall under his undoing, and he moans. “You feel so good, baby…” he says between heavy breaths. You’re always so strong and bold and ballsy, and it gives him a fucking power trip to see you look so… small taking on his cock.

You let out a pathetic whimper as he starts to shallowly thrust in and out of you.

“What is it, baby?” He coos, caressing your hip gently.

“Y’too big…”

“Too big?” Bradley looks down to level your gaze, a seed of a shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid face. “You want me to stop? Is that what you want?”

“No!” You buck up into him as soon as his hips halt, desperately trying to maintain the pace.

He chuckles, that cocky fuck, before he finally continues driving his dick up your inner walls again. “No? You want me to keep stretching you, then?”

You nod. Every thrust feels bigger, deeper, more than the rest, hitting that spot of pleasure just barely, and you’re willing to do anything to stay there.

“Been so needy since I got you pregnant…” he kisses your neck. “Want Daddy more now that I made you a mommy, huh?”

Fuck. The words—the exact order of the words he said sounds batshit insane. You never considered this kind of dirty talk to be hot, but Jesus…

“God, I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round… your tits too, fuck…” he groans as he squeezes your soft flesh, rubbing your nipples with his thumb. “Gonna be a mommy and show everyone who you belong to, huh?”

“Mmh…” You’ve seen Bradley being possessive, and you’ve seen him tap into his primal side, but not like this. This is a whole other beast, and it shocks you how much it turns you on.

“All mine, huh?”

“I’m all yours, Daddy. I’m—fuck. Fuck!” Your whole body is shaking. The band in your core is wound up so tight, and it’s threatening to snap.

And through it all, he doesn’t let up. Bradley keeps that rhythm, pounding into you hard and deep. “Shit, that’s it… that’s it, baby. Come on my cock. God, you’re so fucking tight…”

There’s no stopping it now… your pussy gushes and clenches around him, as shocks of pleasure wave through your system. Your mind goes blank, and for a hot second, nothing is registering in your brain. Nothing but your man, as obscenely as he is fucking your brains out right now,

“Need your cum inside me, Roo…”

“Don’t wanna come anywhere else. Just you, just your pussy…” he breathes out. He’s close, that much you can tell. His pace is erratic and his mouth runs wild. “Gonna keep pumping you full of my cum. Gonna keep fucking babies into you until you can’t anymore.”

You would laugh. You would tease him for being such a caveman about it. But as he comes deep inside you, his hips stuttering one, two, three more times as he rides out his orgasm… you don’t only surrender to the idea; you welcome it.

Maybe you’re completely fucked out. Maybe you’re going soft and mellow, but nothing—and you mean nothing— is hotter than what he wants to do to you.

What he is doing to you now.

The room falls into a pleasant silence as you come down from your high. Bradley pulls out of you, and you gush out with your own release and his. His mouth falls open in awe. “Fuck, that’s hot…”

“Huh?” You lift your head from the bed, trying to see what he’s looking at.

“Nah, it’s just…” he shakes his head with a grin. “Good thing we’re already pregnant, huh? If we weren’t, that might’ve just done the trick.”

You roll your eyes as he gives you a sweet peck on the cheek. “I think the dirty talk alone was enough to do it.”

He blushes, a deep shade of red. He absolutely can’t take it when you quote back the things he said to you during sex. “Nope! Not a single word. La-la-la-la…” he closes his ears with his fingers, waddling over to the bathroom comically.

The sound of water trickling into the toilet coincides with your laugh in the bedroom… and then it gets drowned out with the flush. It’s a mundane little snapshot of your intimate lives together.

He comes up to you and offers his hands. “Come on…” he helps you get up. “You go ahead and clean up. I’ll change the sheets.”

Leave it up to Bradley, to always take initiatives to do the small things, like changing the sheets and ushering your ass to the bathroom after sex.

As you clean up and put on some clothes in the bathroom, Bradley singing Take My Breath Away to himself in the other room, you wonder how all of this will turn out. Change is inevitable—your belly is getting bigger, this new stage of relationship is getting more real— and you’re desperate to get a grasp on these things. It’s strange to be so anxious after such a lovely evening. But it’s been so good so far… too good, maybe… and you can’t help but wonder if the other shoe might drop.

“Everything alright?” Bradley pops up by the bathroom door, already in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You must’ve been in there for a while.

You nod absently. “Yeah, just… changing.” And you’re not sure whether you’re talking about the clothes you just put on, or the body you inhabit.

“I think you look beautiful,” he says so simply. Wrapping his arms around you, feeling your small bump. He smiles into your hair and whispers, “My beautiful wife…”

“Not your wife yet…” you remind him pointedly, teasingly. It’s one of your favorite pastimes, keeping him on his toes.

He turns you around to face him, a tender look seemingly permanent on his face whenever he sees you these days. “I mean, you’re here, with me, in our house, carrying our baby…” he kisses your nose, “As far as I’m concerned, that makes you my wife, doesn’t it?”

Well, when he puts it like that… you take a deep sigh, not hating the idea. But not quite ready to concede to his argument yet. “Apart from a piece of paper.”

“Ah well. That can easily be arranged, hmm?”

Truth be told, he’s got a point. The only differentiating factor to your status right now is a little certificate, and both your signatures on the dotted lines. Not a big party or a horrendously expensive dress that everybody would have an opinion on. And to be more truthful, it was never what you wanted in the first place.

You only ever want to be together.

And you’re free to decide how you want to be together.

“Should we just do it?”

“What?”

You look up at him with a tentative smile.

His eyes light up, and his heart leaps. “I mean, sure.” He chuckles. “We can go down to the courthouse. Or, hell, I’ll drive us to Vegas right now.”

It gets a giggle out of you. Of course he would jump at the opportunity to marry you right away. “Or… we can just celebrate it with our closest friends and family? Rent a beach house somewhere, and just… make a fun weekend out of it?”

“And just… what, get a justice of the peace to marry us?”

You shrug with an easy smile. “Or we can make Mav cry and ask him to officiate.”

He chuckles, but trails off as it sinks in. It has never occurred to him that that was an option. He’s always imagined it the traditional way. A church ceremony followed by a reception in a hall somewhere. Walking under the arch of swords. Looking dapper in his dress uniform. But with his work obligations and yours, and all the nightmare logistics of guest numbers and venues and entertainment and the fucking publicity that comes with your fame, both of you are well aware that it’s a hassle.

And it’s not even the most important part.

The most important part is you. You’d be the one meeting him at the altar. You’d be the one saying your vows and making him cry happy tears.

You would be the one.

For him.

Forever.

“Let’s do it.” Bradley nods resolutely. “Just you, me, and our closest people. We can get married in our jammies, for all I care.”

“Maybe not jammies…” you roll your eyes in amusement. “I still wanna look nice for our wedding, you know.”

“You look nice in your jammies.” He glances down at your tank top.

“Roo.” You cover his line of sight indignantly.

But he tugs your hand away, eyes still glued to what is arguably one of his favorite sights in the world. Your cleavage. Plays it off really coolly as he teases you. “No, no. I’m serious. You look really nice in your jammies. I really wouldn’t object to—”

You swat his hand, only half-serious. “Bradley.”

“Alright, fine!” He raises his hands in surrender. “So long as I get to call you my wife.”

“Not your wife yet…” you saunter out of the bathroom, knowing full well he doesn’t care.

To be completely honest, you’re not even sure that you do, either.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #rooster smut #rooster x reader #the actress & the aviator #ava writes #top gun maverick

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s-4pphics · 1 year

Text

scent of the pine. 5 (e.w)

*takes off grad cap* alright . here we go.

wc;cw: 17.1k everybody died, sistersbestfriend!ellie, guitarist/producer!ellie, violinist!oc, age gap(three years), all ocs r blackcoded, SMUT!! MDNI!!!, phone sex, masturbation, mean ellie, weed alcohol nics yall know wassup, dubcon, virginity loss, masochism LOL, light bondage, dirty talk, ASSSPLAAAYYY😝, dp, mult. orgasms, subspace and drop, squirting, slapping(face ass tits pussy lol), toys, slight angst but also fluff, just lots of spit n cum

You’ve been very gloomy these past couple of months.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about Ellie since you left her home that morning, up until you and Arya jumped on the train to return to campus.

You’d never be able to express to Arya how much you appreciated her presence: she allowed you to cry, whine, pout, and sniffle about how much you missed Ellie, and she comforted you through all of it with gentle whispers of you’re gonna be fine, bitch! you’re gonna get piped down soon! I promise! Although you felt a bit selfish dumping your girl problems on her, she never made you feel guilty and justified that you always listened to her ramble about her hook-ups and high rambles. The only time she’d ever complained about anything related to your sorrowful monologues about missing Ellie’s laugh and smile and tongue was when you two had to work on your Music & Production Theory assignment (I’m gonna kill you if we fail and you’ll die dickless! Don’t play with me!).

…But other than that, she’s been so sweet!

Ellie has also been keeping in touch ever since you left. She sent you snaps of Duchess zooming around the house, her meals for the day, and three-second voice memos of her new project she was working on. You knew that she’d been flying back and forth to California and had a packed schedule with her producer friends whenever she was there, but your heart couldn’t help but turn gray when you wouldn’t hear from her for a few days.

Now it's March, and you and Arya are sitting on the floor as you glared searing holes into your phone. Ellie sent you a text when you were in class earlier saying that she missed your voice and was going to call you the second she had the opportunity. And you weren’t going to miss it. Ellie was worth wasting your Saturday night on!

“I’m not gonna lie girl,” Arya's voice cut through your intense phone-staring. “I’ve definitely had my dickmatized moments but you’re kinda crazy.”

You looked up at Arya as she carefully packed her blunt to get ready for her smoke sesh with her friends, concerned look on her face. It made you frown.

“What, why? What’d I do?” You asked with your brows pulled down.

And before you could hear her answer, you got a notification. You nearly snapped your wrists at the speed your hands flew to grab your phone to see if it was Ellie, your eyes bulging at your screen, only to see that your sister snapped you. You sighed in slight disappointment before opening it.

You ignored Arya’s snickering.

Your sister sent you a picture of her with hairspray and a lighter in her hand with a caption IM MOVING TF OUT I CANT TAKE THIS SHIT NO MORE BUGS R EVERYWHERE WHAT IN THE FUCK.

You couldn’t hold in your laugh as you snapped her back before Arya stood and went to the bathroom with a change of clothes in hand.

You heard the shower turn on as you got up and onto your bed to mindlessly scroll through Twitter.

After ten minutes of scrolling through a Best Euphoria Character breakdown thread, you got a text from Ellie, and you nearly squealed in excitement.

hiiii im sorry i havent been able to b on my phone like that :( been super busy with this sample

i just wanted 2 let u know that i might have 2 call u another time we still have a bunch of layering to do for this track n we’re on a timer. i miss u so fucking bad

You couldn’t ignore the sadness in your chest, but you texted back understandingly anyway.

it’s ok :( i miss u too. miss ur voice :(

Her reply bubble immediately popped up.

i know baby fuckkkk i miss ur voice so fucking bad im ab to start asking 4 daily voice memos 🤨

You smiled at your screen so wide.

LOOOOOOOL ur annoying

You typed and sent a follow up before she could.

go back 2 work 🥰🥰

kiss :(

mwah

mwah mwah mwah

You put your phone on your chest, and you couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your face. She made you so, so happy.

The bathroom door opened, steam from the warm water exiting the room along with a towel-clad Arya.

“What you cheesin’ so hard for, girl?” She said as she grabbed her edge control off her desk.

“Nothin’,” you said with a dreamy sigh as you stared off past her.

“…Uh huh, I’m heading out soon, I’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait up.” She said with a smirk.

“Don’t forget to send me your location,” you reminded her.

She let out a quick course, baby before she went back into the bathroom.

You went back to scrolling through Twitter until your eyelids got heavy. A comfortably dressed Arya—she’s definitely getting some— kissed your forehead and dimmed your dorm lights before she left, and you dozed off.

You jolted awake as Rotation blasted in your ears. You drowsily picked your phone up and saw a el:3🌲 and 2:34AM across your home screen.

You perked up immediately to answer, sitting up so fast that you went lightheaded for a second.

“Hello?”

“Hi, you,” Ellie’s light voice rang through the phone. “Were you sleep? M’sorry, we can talk la— “

“No! No, I’m up, I was just napping, hi,” you said as you grinned softly at her laugh, laying on your back. “You’re up late. Did you guys finish?”

“No, but we were exhausted, so we called off for the night. And one of my partners kept rambling about this girl he needed to call, so,” Her voice was already making you squirm. Thank god she couldn’t see you. “But I wanted to talk to you, couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh my god, you’re so obsessed, damn,” you said with a giggle.

“Fuuuuck yeah, sooo obsessed, need to drink your bath water, shit, I think I’m dying!” she said in an overly desperate, dried out tone, making you laugh harder.

Both of your laughs calmed down before she started talking, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Umm…” She sounded a bit nervous, and it instantly made you antsy. “I know you’re not gonna be back for a couple weeks or whatever, but I just… like I was gonna ask if you wanted to do something, like just the two of us…”

And a sly grin grew on your face. “Ellie… are you asking me out, right now?”

The other line was silent as you heard her move around and sigh before she spoke. “…This was literally the worst way to ask a girl out, fuck, m’sorry— “

You cut through her jittery rambles. “Ellie, stop apologizing! That’s so cute! Of course, I’ll go out with you!”

You heard her release a deep breath as she said, “Fuck, thank god, holy shit, I was so nervous. It’s been so long since I’ve done that. Almost shoved my vape down my throat.”

You laughed as your heart beat quickened. “You really gonna wine and dine me when I come home? We’re that serious?”

“Ohhh, we're that serious, you're eating nothing but lobster and pasta when I see you, swear to god.”

You snorted at her, “Okay, sugar daddy, get me a new car while you're at it. With insurance.”

“Anything you want, baby.” She said with a sleazy laugh.

You hummed at her offer in attempts to mask the pounding of your heart, but she mocked you, humming back at you in a higher tone.

“Shut up! I’m just thinking!”

“Oh, yeah? About what?”

You suddenly felt shy as her voice lowered. It was so much deeper. “Just… just you, I guess, I dunno, miss you.”

You heard her shuffle again before she asked softly, a smirk evident in her tone, “You miss me?”

You let out a quiet, but eager mhm! as your tummy swirled with want.

You listened to her gentle breathing before she asked, “Your roomie home?”

And your heartbeat picked up, your eyes fluttering as your blinking slowed.

“N-no, she’s gone.”

“Then lay down for me, baby.”

You instantly fell on your back, your scarfed head hitting your silk pillows. Your face was boiling hot, “I am.”

“You sound nervous, you good?” she asked you gently.

“M’great, just… yeah, I’m okay, want you to keep talking.”

“Stop me whenever, you understand?” Her tone was much more serious, and it made your thighs clench, your boyshorts growing wetter.

You whined out a uhhuh!, but she corrected you immediately, “Say you understand.”

“I understand! I get it, El!” Fuck, you wished she were here to touch you. To scold you in person.

You heard giggling and more shuffling around through the speaker, “You gotta shirt on?”

“Mhm.”

She chuckled lightly, “Take it off, take off everything while you're at it.”

Your heartbeat spiked, “But Arya might come back.”

“That’s why you have a blanket, honey.”

…Fair.

You quickly set your phone on your pillow, reaching for the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to pull it over your head, tossing it to the floor. You arched your ass up to pull your boyshorts off and kicked them to the foot of your bed. You reached for your phone again.

“Okay, m’ready now.”

“Such a cutie,” she cooed at you. You could hear the grin through her words. “Gonna make you cum so hard the second I get my hands on you.”

You whimpered into the speaker as your walls squeezed. Fuck, fuckfuck.

“You make me go fuckin’ crazy, can’t stop thinking about you.”

“M-me, too.”

“Yeah? What d’you think about?”

Say it! your brain yelled at you. She already knows you’re a slut, just say what you want!

“...Umm…”

“Talk to me, baby, about anything you want.”

You gulped, heart pounding in your ears, “Your… your hands? They’re… really nice.”

“Yeah? What about ‘em is nice?”

“Ellie…”

“Like when they touch you all over, when they hold you down?”

“Yes,” you barely whispered as your free hand traveled down your body. Not touching anywhere specifically, just roaming.

“Know you do, they get you so fuckin’ hot,” She breathed through the line. “Wanna touch yourself?”

“Yeah, w’na so bad.”

“Say please.”

“Ellieee— “

She cut off your embarrassed whines with a nastily casual tone, “I'll hang up right now. Ask nicely.”

You balled your traveling hand up in a fist as you pleaded with an upset pout, “Please, Ellie.”

“Please what.”

“… Please help me?”

“….”

“C’mon Ellie! Please make me cum! I wanna cum!”

Her condescending laugh pierced through your ears, “Touch those pretty fuckin’ tits since I didn’t get to before you left.”

You moaned out as your pointer finger and thumb rolled your stiffened nipple as you squirmed.

“They’re so fucking sensitive, got my sheets so wet when I played with ‘em. Wan’em in my mouth again, shit.”

You pulled at your other nipple, and you let out a moan into the speaker.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, miss you so fucking bad.”

“Miss you so much, Ellie, can’t wait t’see you.” You cried out quietly. Your pussy was clenching with need.

“Touch your pussy, babygirl, rub your clit. Get it nice and wet f’me.”

You followed her instructions at a lightning speed, spreading your legs wider and reaching your hand all the way down to bring your slick to your clit. Your breathing picked up as you slowly rubbed it into your bud, hips jerking.

“Tell me how wet it is,” you could hear how shaky her voice was getting, breathing labored. She was touching herself to you touching yourself, and it was making you wetter. It made you burn. It made you want to get her there.

“M’really wet, El,” you mewled out to her, trying to ignore your bashfulness.

“Yeah? S’dripping on your bed like it did on mine?”

“Shit, yes, I feel it.”

“Fuuuck, bet it’s so fucking tight, gonna break that pretty pussy in so good.”

“Want you to. Want you inside me s’bad, please.”

“Gonna give you whatever you want, promise, shit.”

You felt that feeling coming over you before you could think, “Think m’gonna cum, baby—“

“Already? Always cum so fucking quick—“

“I-I just miss you!”

“Then cum for me, love.”

“G’na, daddy!” You heard her groan at the name.

“Fuuuuck!” You heard the wet sounds from her pussy over her groans and whines of your name, and that swelling feeling in your gut exploded.

All you could get out was a garbled cumming! as your thighs shook in your pleasure, your fingers quickly rubbing your clit as your hips bucked towards the friction. It felt so much better because you knew she was listening.

“Don’t fucking stop, you’re gonna cum again.” She scolded when your fingers slowed and your breathing slowed.

“E-Ellieee—!”

“You wanted to cum so bad, right? Then fucking cum, fuck that pussy,” she must’ve been close: her breathing was heavier and shaky, the wet sounds from her side increasing.

You put your phone on speaker and set it on your pillow, propping yourself up on your elbow so you could fuck yourself easier. You’ve never successfully made yourself cum like this, but you slid your middle finger in experimentally anyway. You released a light gasp at the stretch. You were so soft and slippery on the inside, your clit twitching as you wiggled around in search for that spot that Ellie found so easily.

“D-Do me a favor?” she gasped out to you.

“U-Uh huh?”

She let out a breathy laugh, “Put your pussy on the phone so I can nut?”

You laughed with her, shaking your head as you grabbed it with your free hand. You placed it between your legs, thrusting your finger in and out, “Can you hear it?”

“Yeah, babe, fuck.”

You let out a moan with her, slowly fucking yourself and bringing your other hand over to rub your clit, hips jolting at the sensitivity. You both were moaning each other's name as you chased your pleasure in unison. You let out a loud moan when you prodded that squishy spot that made you black out the last time you saw Ellie. You hit it as hard as you could, pussy squelching around your fingers and belly swirling.

“Gonna make me cum, shit, sounds so fucking hot,” she whined out in between heavy pants.

“Cum with me, El? Please?” You rubbed your clit faster.

“Gonnagonna, fuck, m’so close—!”

You let out a shout of her name as it hit you, your fingers trapped between the tight grip of your walls. You rubbed your clit as you grinded into your pussy, your head falling back as your hips rocked back and forth to ride it out. You tried to quiet your wails as Ellie came with you, letting out obscenities while she talked you through it. You could hear how fast her fingers were moving and it made another wave wash over you, your cunt giving one last bone-crushing squeeze as its twitching calmed.

You pulled your drenched fingers out and slowly rubbed your clit as you came down, listening to Ellie’s quieting gasps of pleasure. You reached to grab a couple tissues from your work desk, wiping your fingers and pussy before grabbing your phone to set on your pillow. You heard her shuffle before she spoke.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah… wish you were here,” you answered with a pout.

“I know, a couple more weeks’n I’m all yours.”

“S’all I’m thinking about,” you said gently. “Go get some rest.”

“Don’t want you to gooooo,” you heard her pouting. It made your heart skip. “Stay on the phone with me?

“Don’t you have to get up early tomorrow?”

“…Yeah…”

“Right. You had a long day, go to bed.” Even though the sound of her breathing would lull you to sleep faster, you could only imagine how drained she must’ve been.

“Fine,” you heard her sigh in resignation.

“Sleep well,” you cheesed widely.

“I’ll try, promise. Mmmmwaaah!” she sent a goofy kiss through the speaker. You sent one back.

“Night, El.”

“Night, baby.”

You hung up your line, throwing your phone on your pillow as you sat up to go to the bathroom.

You missed her scent so much.

Your sister was very in love. And lonely.

It’s been almost three weeks since she’s seen Isaiah.

She was typically good at keeping her sneaky links on the low, only calling them to fulfill her needs in the middle of the night, buy her drinks, smoke her the fuck out whenever she wanted, but she never expected to miss one of them or wait for their calls. Fuck time zones!

When Isaiah and your sister first started hooking up, it started off normal. Quick, but nastily satisfying fucks in hotel rooms (that he paid for, city girl shit), smashing in his rental car before his studio session, in her car before she went to work; it was strictly sexual for months, and she was fine with him constantly flying back and forth!

Until he returned from California with a new strain that he said reminded him of her. She damn near bought a ring to propose to him herself. He smoked her out, she had one of the best highs of her life, and he gave her the craziest head on her couch, how could she not want him?!

And now he’s gone, making beats in California again as she sat and thought about his voice. His scent.

Why did California always keep the most important people away from her?!

Thinking about that city always gives her a headache. She ignited the packed bowl of her pipe, staring holes into the black screen of her phone as she waited for his call.

You were editing another compilation of you playing all four seasons of Vivaldi as Arya snored on your shoulder. Your subs were going to eat this one up!

The train Wi-Fi was kicking your ass and was this close to fucking up your render, but you were managing.

You stretched your wrists, and you leaned back from your small tray table, resting against your head against the rest and grabbing your phone.

You got a text from Ellie!

hiiiii baby can’t wait 2 c u

got smth cute planned :)

You didn’t notice the smile that spread on your face as you typed.

so excited :( wanna smell u so bad

You were about to set your phone down, but a text bubble popped up.

yeah? wna smell u too

gonna shove my nose in that pussy and inhale 😛

IMMA EAT IT RAAAHH

Your entire body flushed hot as you shook your head.

AYOOOOO??

UR FUCKDIGNNSTUPIDD GET OFF MY PHONE

LFMAKOAAOOAAO

kissie b4 i go? :(

mwahmwahmwah

mmmmmwwah

You set your phone down as you cheesed dumbly.

You wished this train would hurry the fuck up!

Your mom had come to pick you and Arya up from the station with slices of her freshly baked pineapple upside-down cake, kisses, and strong hugs. You never got used to being away from her months at a time; You'd missed her warm embrace so much.

You had a couple of days to yourself before you and Ellie's first date and… just thinking about it made your heart beat faster.

She’d texted you when you got home, telling you to dress up in something fancy. Would she buy you a fancy dinner? Take you to an art gallery? A night on the town in the city? The possibilities were endless with her!

Arya had been telling you that you needed to buy some… things for when the two of you get “freak nasty”, so she offered to drive you to the mall (no more fruit panties, you're an adult now!, she’d scolded you). While you were excited for what happened after your date, you didn’t want it to be narrowed down to that; You loved spending time with Ellie. You just got her back in your life, and you wanted to appreciate every moment that you could get with her when she wasn't working. You felt so happy when she was around.

… But of course, Arya wasn’t hearing that.

“Girl, you can save all that sappy shit for the wedding, do you want crotchless panties under your—“ She paused her waving of the… very exposed pair of pink underwear as she remembered something. “Oh fuck, you don’t have a dress!”

“…I was thinking about just wearing my prom dr— “

“Don’t even finish that fuckin’ sentence, are you serious?! Your prom dress? On your first date? You needa be slapped for that!” She said, irritated as she glared at you. You glared back at her attitude, now just as annoyed.

“What do you expect me to do?! I’m not… I’m not like you guys, okay? This typa shit is easy for y’all. You know how hard it is for me to… do things like this. Why do you think I’ve been single this whole time?!” You said with a hurt frown.

You knew she never meant any harm whenever she scolded you about your romantic situations, —or lack thereof—but that didn’t mean it hurt your feelings any less. You’re just starting to come into yourself and your appearance, and you need her, and everyone else, to be patient with you.

Arya must’ve sensed the pain and discomfort in your voice because her glare slowly fell, a gentle replacement immediately overtaking her expression. She set the panties back down onto the display table and grabbed your shoulders.

“M’sorry babe, okay?” She said softly, and you nodded as you looked off into the distance in rigid forgiveness; You knew she didn’t like that. “Look at me.”

Your eyes slowly met hers before she quietly spoke. “I’m sorry, I want the best for you, that’s all.”

She continued as your eyes watered. Just a little glisten! “You’re such a beautiful person—inside’n out and I want you to feel that way, even more so now because of that dick-slangin’ girlfriend of yours!”

“You’re annoying,” you joked as you laughed quietly, making her smile.

“It’s true! You’re my baby’n I love you.”

“Love you,” you mumbled into her shoulder as she pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a light kiss to the side of your head before pulling back.

She spun around and pointed towards the 30% off on all thongs! sign at the front of the store.

“Can you buy one, at least?” she said in half-joking exasperation, pout on her face.

“…Sure,” You relented with a sigh. “I might not wear it for the date, though!”

“That’s fine, mama! Just wanna make sure you got one for safe keeping!” She said slyly as she stuck her tongue out.

You shook your head as you made your way over to the rack, eyeing the pine green thong on the mannequin.

Two days passed and you were getting ready for your first date! You couldn’t believe it!

After Arya drove the two of you to the airport to pick up Kris and Starr, they’d spent the night at your place so they could see you off before Ellie came to pick you up.

Starr helped you wax your eyebrows and legs: she offered to wax your cooch, but you were scared and a little embarrassed at the thought of your friends seeing you so… exposed. You knew your friends didn’t care about seeing you naked, but you were still a bit sheltered with them. I’ll stick to my razor! you'd said.

Kris was pressing your hair while Arya helped you glue your lashes on as you frantically checked the time with a bouncy knee. 6:33… 6:34… 6:36!

Even though Ellie said that your reservation was at seven-thirty, you still needed to get dressed, had to count for the drive, potential stops for gas… and what if there was an accident on the road and it made you both late… oh, god what if you both caused the accident—!

“Bro, can you calm the hell down— “

“Y’know, I’m getting really sick of y’all asking the girl with anxiety to calm down—!”

“Stop moving and hold your ear down!”

You thanked god your mom was out on a wine night; She didn’t need her night ruined with you and your friends bickering.

You grabbed your ear in a tight downward pinch with a harsh sigh, moving it so Kris could straighten your baby hairs. Even with all this frantic movement from everyone in the room, they made it clear that they didn’t want you to see your final look until the very end, blocking all mirrors available with their bodies.

After fifteen minutes of… pure chaos, your hair laid flat, and your face was beat. You pressed kisses all over your friends’ faces with breathy iloveyouthankyou’s before grabbing your dress and undergarments to sprint to your bathroom, making sure not to look at yourself even though you desperately wanted to.

You shut the door with a deep and heavy exhale. You looked at your dress with pounding in your ears: it was a floor length, black velvet maxi dress with lace detailed sleeves. It accentuated your bust so a little cleavage was showing (I, personally, would have my nipples out, but this is cute, too! you recalled Arya saying in the dressing room); It was so… classy. You felt like an adult when you tried it on. You hope Ellie likes it.

You shook off your insecurities before they could terrorize you and removed your tee, underwear, and sweatpants. You put your pine green, lacy strapless bra on with the thong to match, adjusting it so… your pussy could fucking breathe how do people wear this shit everywhere they go!

You grabbed your dress and stepped into it, carefully pulling it up and over your shoulders. You straightened it out with your hand, making sure no wrinkles were in it before you took a breath, opened the door, and walked out to your bedroom.

Starr was the first one you made eye-contact with and she damn near fell out of your desk chair and onto the floor. Your eyes widened as the other two turned with excited gasps and shrieks.

“OH MY FUCKIN’ GOD WHAT THEFUCK—!”

“You’re so fucking fine, holy shit—!”

“If it don’t work out with ol’ girl, you know where to find me—!”

You shook your head at them before dropping your gaze to your floor so that they couldn’t see your small smile, your face flushed, “Okay, okay, can I look now?”

“Yeah baby, turn around!” Kris said excitedly as she grabbed your shoulders with an encouraging squeeze.

You spun around and was immediately met with someone who… did not look like you. At all. Even your brain was too stunned to speak. What the fuck?

The girls' excited expressions slowly dropped when they witnessed your shocked reaction, but you weren’t upset at all. Just… surprised. In a good way.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Kris asked you gently from behind with concerned eyes, meeting yours in the mirror.

“…I’m just really— “

THROW IT IN ROTATION! (THR—)

You jumped towards your phone on your dresser, nearly knocking your lamp off it. You answered immediately when you saw who it was.

“Hello?”

“Hiiiii, m’downstairs!” Ellie said giddily, and your spirit brightened. You smiled widely, and the girls followed.

“I’m coming down right now, just needa put my shoes on!”

“Ok, is it fine if I come in for a sec or?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. The girls wanna meet you!” And they nodded eagerly in agreement.

“… Fuck, now I’m scared.”

“Don’t be! They’re so sweet, c’mon.”

“K, gimme a sec, mmmmmwah!” she said goofily, you sending one back just as dopily before you ended the call.

“Y’all gay as shit,” Starr said with a headshake, making the other girls snicker and jump in excitement.

You, heels in hand, and your friends nearly jumped down the staircase to rip the front door off the hinges.

The minute your eyes connected with Ellie’s, you had to stop yourself from dropping to your knees and doing something crazy. Fuck.

She was dressed in an all-black suit with a… fucking turtleneck underneath her jacket. Her sleeves were rolled up so her forearm tattoo was exposed. She had…Cuban links around her neck and wrists. Her hair was cut into a mullet—when the fuck did that happen, holy shit?!— and the two slits in her brow were more prominent. You noticed one of her hands was behind her back, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about what she was hiding. You were, by all means, ready to fuck right now. You nearly said fuck the date.

And by the darkening of her eyes as she took you in from head to toe, you could tell she was ready, too.

“…Hey,” she said to all of you, but she kept eye contact with you. You stared back.

“Hi! Nice to finally meet you, I’m Arya,” your best friend interrupted as she stuck her hand out towards your date. Her eyes left yours to politely greet your friends with cute smiles and handshakes.

And then she turned to you, bringing her hidden arm around to hand you a burgundy sunflower wrapped in gold and pink ribbons and plastic. Evening sun!

She stepped inside and into your space—she always smelled so fucking good! — as you took it from her hand with a gentle thank you. Her cheeks were so red as she whispered back of course before planting a soft kiss to your lips. You heard your friends squeal quietly. Neither of you cared, sucked into your own little universe.

“Ready?” she whispered. You nodded excitedly with a toothy grin, stepping into your heels. She smiled back before taking your hand in hers.

“Oh fuck, wait a second!” Kris said loudly before running upstairs. You looked at your two friends, confused. Starr smirked as Arya shrugged.

Kris came running back down the stairs with a small backpack in her hand, giving it to you.

“Packed you some… things. Might not see you for a few days,” she said slyly as she winked, causing Starr to snicker. What the hell was in this bag?

“Be careful with our little baby, now! She’s fragile!” Starr called out.

“Will do, don’t worry,” Ellie replied with a light laugh before turning to you to whisper, “C’mon, baby.”

“Don’t forget to lock the door before you guys head out, keys under the mat,” you turned to say to your friends as you slowly walked out. “I love y’all!”

Shouts of love you! and be safe! rung through your ears before you gently shut the door. Your back was immediately pressed up against it before you could think, Ellie craning her neck to connect your lips in a hot kiss. Your knees went weak.

She pulled away before you could protest, looking you up and down, “Had to do that, fuck, you look gorgeous.” Your cheeks were so hot as you mumbled a quiet you, too!

“Think I’m gorgeous?” She hummed out with a small smile. You saw her cheeks shine a darker shade of pink.

You nodded with an mhm!, wrapping your arms around her neck to pull her in for another kiss. She grabbed your forearms and moved back with a shake of her head.

“Okay. No more bullshit, we’re classy tonight!” She said with a clap of her hands.

“Just one more,” you shook your head with a pout as you attempted to move her closer.

You shut your eyes when you saw her face move closer to yours before you heard her whisper a no against your lips.

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” She said with a foxy grin. She took your hand in hers to lead you to her… sleek ass car, fucking shit!

The heartbeat in your ears nearly deafened you.

The restaurant was… impeccable. You thought Cheesecake Factory was fancy; They were nothing compared to this spot. It was dimly lit, crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, tables draped in a black cloth, marble plates, candles, bottles of champagne… This is wealth!

Ellie hadn’t let your hand go the entire car ride, all the way up until you reached the front desk to confirm your reservation. You both were led to an exclusive spot on the second-floor outdoor balcony so that the two of you were alone. You teared up at the sight in front of you.

Your small section was filled with lit lanterns, the decorative trees around your table wrapped in fairy lights, and your table was surrounded with rose petals. There was even a small flowerpot with an evening sun sticking out of it. The gesture was so simple, but your eyes watered with gratitude. You couldn’t believe she organized this for you.

“Like it?” She sounded so nervous next to you. You turned to face her and nodded with a sniffle.

“Such a crybaby, jesus,” she mumbled with a shaky laugh, reaching towards a napkin on the table to hand to you. You dabbed your eyes, minding your liner.

“This is so sweet, Ellie, oh my god,” you watched her expression fill with affection and doting before she pulled you in to kiss your forehead as she led you over to the table.

She grabbed the back of your chair to pull it out for you with an over-exaggerated call of m’lady!, ushering you to sit down. You laughed wetly before you sat with a thank you!

“I wasn’t joking when I said you can get whatever you want,” She stated as she circled the small table to get to her seat. “I’ll buy this place out if you ask, don’t give a fuck.”

Fuckfuckfuck—!

“Ellie, this is prettiest place I’ve ever fucking been in, oh my god!” You said as you glanced around the room.

“Ehhh, it’s alright,” she said with a cocky smirk, shrugging as she shook her jacket off her shoulders. You tried not to look at her toned arms too closely as you rolled your eyes. “Want some wine?”

“Is… is that allowed?”

“… It is tonight, shit— “

A man dressed in a black shirt, slacks, and apron cut her off with an introduction as your server, bowing his head in greeting. You noticed how he kept returning his gaze to you as he described the specials, but you paid it no extra mind.

After Ellie asked for the most expensive wine, the server departed with a stiff nod in her direction. You noticed her intense gaze as she watched him leave.

“You okay?” you asked gently. She silently shook her head yes before reaching out to you to grab your hand, playing with your fingers.

Hm. That was weird.

Dinner was fucking incredible. Shrimps should’ve never been called the “roaches of the sea”, they tasted too good!

You were two glasses of wine in, —nursing your third—and you were starting to feel warm and fuzzy, a smile permanently painted on your face as Ellie went on about astrology; You didn’t know what the fuck a mercury retrograde was, but you supported anything that kept that impassioned look in her eyes! She looked so excited!

“—that fucker thought that because I’m a fucking Libra I wasn’t gonna say anything. Like, I literally have an Aquarius rising, you cunt! I’ll fuckin’ run you ov— “

“How’s everything?”

You looked to your side and made eye contact with your server, you sipped from your glass as you eagerly nodded, “Oh my god, it was fucking incredible. Who knew shrimps could be that goddamn huge! Are we allowed to say bad words in here?!”

He laughed while nodding, “Yes ma’am, you’re allowed to do whatever you want in here. Would you like any dessert with the rest of your wine?”

“Yes, please!” You got giddy at the mention of sweets, “I saw this chocolate molten lava cake lookin’ thing on the menu, but there was no ice cream on top. Can y’all… à la mode it?”

“Course we can, the Chocolate Fondant with ice cream!” He said as he pulled out his notepad from his apron pocket, scribbling before turning to Ellie. You noticed how tense she looked: she was sitting back in her chair with her legs crossed, her finger tapping on the arm rest, and her shoulders were stiff. You didn’t comment on it, but something was off. “And for you?”

She didn’t answer, and her lack of response concerned you. You reached over to gently place your hand on top of her… clenched fist on the table, “El? You don’t have to get a whole one. You wanna share with me?”

She hadn’t looked at you since he arrived, though: she continued to glare at the waiter, and when you turned to look at him, you saw him glare at her. What the hell?

“We’re gonna get that to go, actually.” She demanded, her gaze sharp like knives. You recognized that tone of hers instantly. She was this close to swinging. Oh no.

“I think that would be best. Cash or card?” He snarked. You whipped your head to glare at his tone.

You felt the table shake as Ellie moved to stand. You jumped up and stood in front of her—almost breaking your damn ankle in these heels— before she could lunge at the waiter, letting out soft warnings of nononono as you blocked her off. This was an elitist establishment; you’re not trying to get arrested! The waiter scoffed and stomped off.

You watched Ellie seethe in her chair as she pulled her wallet out of her slack pocket, throwing a stack of hundreds on the table before grabbing her jacket. She wrapped her hand around yours before pulling you towards the restaurant's staircase.

She harshly pushed the doors of the restaurant open to lead you to the parking garage. You weren’t having it, though.

“Ellie! Ellie, wait! What the hell just happened?” You asked, grabbing her wrist with your free hand to stop her pacing.

“Doesn’t matter— “

“Yes, it does!” You said louder as you yanked your hand from hers. You grabbed her flushed face in your hands, but she wasn’t looking at you. She just continued to whisper obscenities under her breath.

“Baby, look at me please, talk to me,” you said gently, rubbing her cheeks with your thumbs in an attempt to soothe her.

She finally looked down at you, before looking around again, “Let’s get in the car first, c’mon.”

You released her face from your grasp with a nod, letting her guide you.

She let out a deep sigh when she shut her door. You leaned over to rub her knee comfortingly.

She looked down at your hand as her expression softened, “M’sorry, I— “

You shook your head, “It’s okay, just, what was that? I’m so confused right now—”

“Motherfucker wouldn’t stop glaring at me, pissed me the fuck off,” She said between grit teeth. “Kept lookin’ at you, the fuck was he smiling so hard for anyway—“

“A-at me?”

“Yes, at you,” She said like it was obvious. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “The bastard almost broke his neck trying to show you the menu, ohhh of course I'll put ice cream on the chocolate fountain, sexy, I'll make sure the chocolate’s extra hot for you, like what the fuck— “

You couldn’t hold in your laughter at her exaggerated impressions, and you felt her relax as she scoffed a laugh out. You watched as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her mint vape, pulling from it. She turned her head to blow the smoke away from your face. You leaned over the center console, grabbing the side of her face to turn towards you. You planted soft kisses to her cheek in between your chuckles as she shook her head, licking her chapped lips.

“Dinner was really good,” you said in between kisses.

She hummed before she sighed, “Sorry I ruined it, you didn’t even get your chocolate fountain.”

You giggled, “Fondant, baby.”

She grumbled out a whatever, making you laugh harder, “I had so much fun, El, love spending time with you.”

She turned her face towards yours to whisper, “Me too babe. Missed you so much.”

“You smell so fucking good,” you whispered against her mouth before you could think.

“Yeah?” You felt her smirk.

You hummed in agreement before pressing your mouth to hers. She instantly reciprocated, turning her body so she could place a hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer. The kiss deepened, her tongue swiping against your bottom lip before she sucked on it. You let out a whine when her tongue licked into your mouth. Tongueringtongueringtongueri—

But then she pulled away. You followed her mouth with yours, making her smile.

“Let’s go home.”

You nodded so hard, you almost snapped your neck.

The minute you stepped foot into Ellie’s place, her mouth was on yours.

Her strong hands were gripping your hips, your arms around her neck as you moaned in her mouth.

Jinglejinglejinglejingle—

You pulled away from her and turned the second you heard Duchess coming, her small, fluffy body descending the stairs. You pushed Ellie’s grabby, traveling hands away.

“Baby! Oh my god! I missed you so much!” You squealed in excitement as you rushed over to her as quickly as your heeled feet would allow. She started purring and rubbing against your leg. You bent over to pet her little head as she nuzzled into your hand.

“You really chose her over me, wow, okay,” Ellie called out from behind you as you heard the fridge open along with some clinking glass.

Of course, Duchess’s demons took over as she whipped her head off into the distance, seemingly shocked by something, before sprinting back upstairs. There had to be a ghost or something in this bitch!

You shook your head before standing straight to turn towards the kitchen. You noticed Ellie shamelessly staring at your ass before she slowly dragged her eyes up connected with yours. And she just took a shot of pure vodka. No chaser. Fuck.

“You always talk about me staring, look at you!”

“You’re lucky that’s all I did,” She said as she poured another shot for herself. “Was thiiis close to doing something outta pocket.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you challenged. Yup, that wine was still kicking.

“Shoving my tongue in your ass,” she said casually with a shrug before leaning over the counter, taking sips from her shot glass.

That familiar swirl in your gut quickly turned into a tornado. Your pussy clenched tight with want. Oh. Oh, wow.

“Oh.”

“Uh huh.”

Do something! Say something sexy, you’re boring her! your brain shouted.

“T-that guy was trash, huh?” you said with a sheepish laugh.

“…Yup,” she said deeply as she watched you. Every breath you took, every nervous twitch of your body with that nasty little glint in her eyes. The one you recognized from New Year’s. You stepped out of your heels and took a stumbly step towards the counter.

Confidence! Confidence, dammit!

“Can I have some?” You said as you pointed towards the bottle of Absolut.

She snorted a laugh before shrugging, “I dunno. Can you?”

“Shut up, gimme some,” you said as you folded your arms over your chest. Her eyes dropped to your tits as she licked her lips; She wasn’t moving to get your drink, she just stared at your pushed up breasts. Your manicured nails dug into your lacy sleeve, but you stood your ground. “Right now.”

She smirked at your tone before returning her gaze to yours, shaking her head no. She tilted her head condescendingly, lifting her brow at you. She was… fucking testing you! The goddamn nerve!

“Ellie.”

“Hm?”

“Pour me a shot!”

“Or what?” Her tone was so low, so relaxed. You could feel yourself getting so wet.

“Or m’gonna…” Come up with something, what the fuck! “M’gonna…uh… fight you!”

“…You’re gonna fight me?” She squinted her eyes at you, setting the small glass down on the counter before folding her hands.

“…Yeah! Y’know what?! I’m actually mad, you ruined our first date because you thought some guy was staring at me!” There was a shakiness in your voice, but you waved your arms in anger as you started pacing, your bare feet stomping on the dark tile. Along with soft jingles. Duchess was back! “I’ve never been stared at by a stranger in my life!”

Ellie wasn’t retaliating, but you noticed her jaw clenching. It made you clench, but you pressed anyway.

“And you didn’t even get me my dessert! Maybe I wanted him to stare at me! Maybe I wanted the attention, for once! For fucking on—!”

You hadn’t noticed Ellie circle the counter during your toothless rampage, but you felt a sharp tug of hair at the back of your head. Your neck forcibly craned up at her as you let out a wet gasp and pained whined, your fist clenching in your shock and… arousal. Your eyes met her dark, fiery ones, her lips slightly parted as her breath hit your face. You couldn’t stop fucking squirming, your thighs rubbing together to ease the sudden tightness of your core.

“Don’t start acting like a fuckin’ brat,” She said lowly between grit teeth. “You’re cute, keep it that way.”

Despite your eagerness for… her everything, you spat back, “S-Screw you, Ellie! You’re mean!”

“Know I am. Seems like you don’t, though.”

Your body involuntarily shuddered against her, and you mentally cursed yourself for being your biggest enemy! Your tough act faltered the second you put it on, and she smirked. “So fuckin’ easy, you wanna screw me, baby?”

You were easy. You were, you were, all for her! Fuck, you’d do anything she asked of you. You hadn’t even realized that your hands were slowly lifting your dress up on their own accord, bunching the fabric around your hips. She looked down and scoffed out a laugh, her grip in your hair tightening. You were moaning aloud already, what the fuck!

“Givin’ it up like that? Like a filthy slut?”

You nodded, your head filled with nothing but desire. Need. Instinct. You needed her to fuck you right now!

“Get up those fucking stairs, gonna put the baby in the guest room.” You could hear her jingling on the couch.

Her grip on you loosened as she backed away to walk towards Duchess with a soft hi, baby! missed you!

That was a fast switch up!

You turned towards the counter and downed the rest of Ellie’s discarded shot before you bolted up the steps. You never ran so fast in your life.

After Ellie took care of Duchess, you heard her tread up the stairs. You were sitting on the edge of her made bed with your hands folded in your lap and slick pooling your thong. She met your eyes from where she stood by the top of the steps.

“Look at you, already so well behaved,” she cooed at you. She sounded so demeaning, and you loved it. You were so embarrassed that you did.

You didn’t reply but watched her slowly walk towards you. Your breathing picked up and your heart pounded in your ears and head and clit—

“You used to be so fuckin’ sweet,” she said down at you, her lustful eyes twinkling under the green and blue hues in her room. She shook her head at you. “You get some alcohol in you’n start acting out? That’s what you wanna do?”

You slowly shook your head no, jutting your bottom lip out.

“Talk.”

“No, Ellie,” you could barely whisper.

“Take this off,” she ordered abruptly, her pointer finger pulling at the bust of your dress.

You stood at her command, pulling your arms out of your sleeves to pull the dress down your body. Was it always this tight?!

After wrestling with your garb, it pooled at your feet. You stepped out of it clumsily as Ellie took in your appearance. You watched her rake her eyes over your body, chuckling softly at your undergarments.

“These are cute,” she said as she snapped the band of your thong against your skin. It made you flinch… and wetter! “Give’em to me.”

Your breath hitched, curling in on yourself slightly.

She gently cut through your thoughts before you could gather them, “Don’t think about it, just do what I ask.”

You hesitantly hooked your thumbs into your underwear and pulled them down on autopilot, cringing slightly at the large wet spot on the little triangle. You pressed your thighs together to help alleviate some tension. It didn’t help.

“Get up there,” she nodded her head towards her bed frame. You sat on the bed to scoot up the mattress, but she stopped you, tightly gripping your ankle.

“Nuh uh, hands’n knees’ c’mon,” she scolded, “Wanna see that wet fuckin’ pussy.”

You clumsily got up onto your knees, hands sinking into her pine-scented blankets. Your erratic breaths picked up as you nervously looked back at her over your shoulder. Her expression softened slightly, whispering okay, baby? and you nodded enthusiastically. You never would’ve thought that you would enjoy Ellie being mean to you, but it was making you drip. She smirked and her gaze dropped to stare at your wet cunt, and it squeezed in excitement.

Be sexy! you thought. Make her want you!

You deepened the arch in your back slightly before you slowly crawled up her bed like a cat until you were faced with her black, detailed bed frame. You boldly shoved your face into her pillows, —you sniffed them very deeply— making sure to keep your ass up as far as you could.

“It’s like that?” You heard her scoff out. Your pussy twitched at her voice; You hoped she noticed.

You took a deep breath, “Is it?”

“Fucking smartass. Show me your pussy.”

Your body burned at her vulgarity; she had no shame! You whimpered before you reached your arms behind you to spread your asscheeks, both holes pulsing in excitement.

You felt her move onto the bed before you heard the ripping of fabric. She grabbed both your wrists in one hand, knotting your soaking wet panties around them before dropping your bound hands onto your back.

“ELL— “

You were going to scold her for ripping your new pair, but you were cut off by a stinging slap on your ass. You let out a pained groan in the pillow as your nails dug into your palms. Oh, you liked that. A lot. You wanted more. Fuck, you want her to hurt you.

“Gotta beat it into you, huh? That’s the type of shit you like?” Ellie said in a nasty timbre. “The only way t’get you to behave?”

You didn’t even get to lift your head to say yes! before another harsh slap landed on your other cheek and you let out a muffled squeal again. You knew your pussy was dripping onto her duvet in a puddle!

“You’re lucky you’re only getting my fucking hand. Fuckin’ slut.”

Why was the disgusting part of you wishing that she were using something more? Something that she could etch into your skin forever?

“E-Ell— “

“Be quiet.”

You shut up. You shut up so quickly.

“Fuuck, look at this fucking ass.” You felt her calloused hands massage both cheeks. She spread them, made them jiggle. Hit you again.

“Gonna let me play with it, babygirl? Hm? Gonna let me touch you how I want to?” She cooed out at you. You knew she knew your answer, but you nodded your sweaty head into her pillow anyway.

You felt her place a light kiss on the back of your thigh, right under your asscheek, before she got up. You heard a drawer slide open. Her… special drawer. Fuck, she was going to destroy you.

You craned your neck as best as you could

to watch as she pulled out some items. She set them on the dresser before she undid her chains, bracelets, and earrings. She took her turtleneck and slacks off, leaving her with mussed hair and a black sports bra with matching boyshorts. Her back, her fucking back, holy fuck—

Your thoughts were halted by a thud near the edge of the bed: you couldn’t see anything that she chose, but you saw that familiar shade of purple in the middle of the small pile.

“You comfortable in that position?” She questioned you suddenly, her softness returning.

“Umm… I like it, but my arms hurt a little, not gonna lie.”

She tsked at you, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“M’sorry! I was really into the “don’t talk” thing— “

“If the don't talk thing makes you not tell me when you're uncomfortable, I’m not doing it. You gotta tell me when you feel off, I don’t care why or when it is,” She crawled up to you and undid the knot from your wrists before grabbing your hip to help move you onto your back. “Here, stretch out.”

You laid your head on her pillow as you extended your arms and legs, sighing in relief before you rested, limbs spread out on the mattress, “M’okay now.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, but she wasn’t looking at your face. She was staring at your wet cunt, and it made you squeeze hard. She licked her lips as more slick pooled at your hole before meeting your eyes. “I like you better like this actually.”

You nodded as you offered her your wrists, signaling her to tie them again with a wide grin.

She laughed at you before crawling up to pull at your bra wire, “Wait, take this off first.”

“Want you to do it,” you sighed out dreamily.

She hummed at you, moving up to straddle your waist, “I meant it when I said this was cute, by the way.”

“Exactly, was cute! You saw my panties for three seconds and ripped them to shreds,” you cackled out.

“I was excited, felt a little frisky!” She laughed with you.

You both slowed your giggles when she started rubbing them through the fabric, both hands massaging you through the cups.

Your eyes fluttered when your nipples brushed up against the lace, your back arching into her touch. She slowly bent down to take one of them into her mouth, the bulb in her mouth circling the peak. You gasped sharply, arching deeper as your hand flew to the back of her head. You gently scratched her scalp with your nails, and she sucked on it.

You jerked and your grip on her hair tightened, and she moaned around you. You moaned at the vibrations on your sensitive skin.

You hadn’t noticed her hands snuck under you to undo the clasp of your bra as she pulled away from you, discarding the flimsy cloth and tossing it somewhere.

“So much for a surprise,” you playfully rolled your eyes at her. Calloused fingers dug into your cheeks. Your smile dropped and your eyes fluttered as hers burned into yours.

“You’re not off the fuckin’ hook. Watch your mouth, you understand?” She said lowly, breath hitting your face. You nodded quickly.

“I understand,” you whimpered out.

“Atta girl, you're learning,” she patronized with a satisfied grin, patting your cheek a couple times. You blushed harder. “Gimme those hands.”

She sat up to reach for your destroyed panties, your wrists connected at the veins as she bound them together, much tighter than the first time.

You rested your arms on the pillow behind you. She adjusted them so that your head was propped up and your neck was supported. You poked your chest out more as your tits jiggled with your movements.

“I do anything you don’t like, you tell me.” She said in a hushed, but stern tone.

“I will, El, promise.”

“Okay,” she bent down to press a soft kiss to your mouth before moving off you and towards the pile of toys.

She grabbed one of… what is that?

It was a teal circle with a small hole at the top of it. Technology is so interesting—

“It’s clean, promise,” she must’ve noticed your furrowed brows and stare. You shook your head.

“S’not that, what… what is it?”

“A vibrator, babe,” she said simply.

“…Hm, never seen one like that before.”

“I hadn’t either. It was a gift,” she snorted before she clicked a button on the top of it. A low vibration filled the room, “It feels good, though.”

“What’s it feel like?”

“It’s supposed to feel like you’re getting head… sorta,” She said in thought, “It kinda does, like a little bit… wanna see if you like it?”

“Yeah, p-please?”

“That’s cute.”

She brought her free hand up to roll your nipples between her thumb and pointer finger, making you whine out and squirm and arch your back. Your eyes fluttered closed.

You felt the gentle vibrations on your inner thigh before they slowly trailed up with every twist and pinch Ellie gave your nipples. Your hips started bucking up before she brought her hand down to slap your pussy. You let out a loud moan as your eyes shot open to meet her dark ones.

“Stop moving.”

“C-can't help it,” you said with pout.

“Yeah, you can.”

You let out a huff, and she gave your cunt another wet slap, much harder. You squealed loudly as your legs squeezed shut.

“Don’t get a fuckin’ attitude.”

You whimpered a sloppy slew of apologies, but you knew she wasn’t hearing it as she pried your legs apart with one strong hand to slap it one more time before slowly rubbing your clit. Your hips jerked, but you forced them not to lift.

“You get so fuckin’ wet,” she whispered in awe, the sticky noises of your pussy filling the room as she played with it. “Hear that? Shit.”

“Missed you s-so much— “

“Know you did.”

You moaned her name, and she mockingly moaned yours back. It made you leak more.

You felt her spread your lips open so she could watch your clit throb and jerk in need. You looked down and saw her eyes glued to your cunt, her freckled cheeks tinted red and her wet, pink lips parted. She looked up at you, smirking when she met your intrigued, needy eyes as she placed the vacant part of the vibrator over your clit.

“Like watching?”

“Think so,” you shyly mumbled out.

And then you felt the vibrations on your soaked bud. You gasped as your eyes closed.

You felt her pull the toy away before she slapped your clit. You cried out as your eyes shot open to meet hers again.

“Watch me. Don’t close your eyes.”

You jerkily nodded; You watched her so closely. She kissed your clit before spreading them with her fingers to bring the open part of the toy to your clit, trapping it inside once more.

Your bud was surrounded by the pulsing sensations of the soft silicone and your eyes almost rolled back into your head, but you craved Ellie’s praise, her reassurance. You wanted to be good for her.

All you could do was moan and shudder and watch her.

“Feels good?”

“Feels s’good, baby—”

“Yeah? Want some more?” she said fondly with a filthy glare.

You mumbled out a quiet yeah, wa’more! in between your pleas.

She pressed another button on the toy, and the vibrations got stronger. Your cries got louder.

“Sloppy fucking pussy.”

The tight pull in your gut was building, but you needed more. You wanted to pull on your nipples so bad but you fucking couldn’t! Why did you want your hands tied so badly?

“El,” you barely got out between your heavy pants, “can you—mmh!”

“What?”

“T-ouch my tits? Please, m’right there!”

She snickered at you before reaching up to slap one of them, leaving remnants of your slick on the soft skin. That wasn’t what you were expecting, but you want more of that!

“Hit me more?” you keened, your eyes glossy.

“You asking?” she snickered, and you nodded so fast.

She shook her head at you, “You’re gross.”

For her! You’re so nasty for her her her—

You received another slap. And another. Then she reached up to dig her nails into your brown bud. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back, it hurt so good.

“Shit, m’gonna cum!”

“Uh huh.”

All you could do was moan out warnings of s’coming! and I feel it! and yes! It built and built until you could taste it and—

… Everything you felt stopped. And Ellie was laughing. You were going to cry.

No… nonono—

“Told you to keep your eyes open.”

“E-Ellie, please no, I can’t— “

“Y’know, I was hoping you could follow simple instructions,” she cut you off as she moved towards the pile again, grabbing her… fat fucking dick, yes finally yesyesyes—

And lube… and an emerald green buttplug with a matching… remote? Oh, fuck—

“You don’t know how to fucking listen, do you?” She tossed the items next to you before grabbing your shaky thighs to pull you closer to her, your head dropping onto the soft mattress. You laid flat on your back as she loomed over you, your legs on either side of her.

She watched your twitchy hole produce more slick, “Don’t even need to get you ready, could just slip right in and fuck you how I want.”

“Wan’you to! Wann’it so bad— “

“Yeah? Want me t’use you?”

“Fuck yes! Yeah!”

“Keep these fuckin’ legs open, then,” she grabbed her dick and stood to step into it, adjusting the straps securing them around her hips. She climbed back between your legs as she intensely stared at your tits. She looked so deep in thought, brows furrowed with her bottom lip between her teeth; What the hell was her evil brain conjuring up?!

She gave your breast one last burning slap that made you cry out before grabbing the lube off the bed. You watched as she ripped the cap off, pouring some into the palm of her hand to bring down to her dick to massage it into the ridges. Your walls were squeezing so tight, your pussy begging for whatever she was about to do.

You almost flatlined on her bed when she straddled you, climbing up your body until her dick rested between your tits, the lube she smeared all over it transferring to your skin. Her thick, wet tip was almost touching your chin, and all you could do was gape at it before slowly blinking up at her, meeting her burning gaze. She bit her lip as she slowly tipped the bottle of lube, letting the thick consistency land your chest before she rubbed it into your skin with her cock. You felt so fucking dirty!

“Stick that tongue out,” she ordered deeply as she closed and tossed the lube bottle.

Your lips parted on command, your tongue slowly sliding between the two of them. She grabbed your face in a tight grip before letting a line of spit slip out of her mouth and onto your tongue. You felt it slide down your tongue before you happily swallowed

it. You lolled your tongue out, silently asking for more with pleading eyes.

She sneered at you before she did it again, getting it all over your chin and cheeks. You couldn’t stop the whimper that left your mouth. She let a blob out onto your tits, mixing with the lube.

But then you felt a fiery hand come down on your cheek, your head flying to the side as you let out a choked gasp. Your thighs clamped together on instinct as your walls quivered at the sting. You felt her place a hand on the side of your head, keeping it still as her nails dug into your scalp.

“G’na fuck these tits s’good,” you heard her groan out. Your cunt throbbed in desperation.

“Wan’ you to!”

“Beg me to,” she hissed at you.

“Please, baby, pleasefuck’em!—“

You felt her squeeze both your wet tits in one tight hand before she forced her dick between them, both of you letting out moans in between the squelchy noises from your bodies.

Her grip in your hair tightened as you heard her pleased sighs, her slurred curses, her whines of your name, why were you getting so tight, why did it feel like you were about to cum—

“Fuuuck, babygirl, feels s’fuckin’ good—!”

“E-El, please— “

“Yeah? What does my girl need? Wan’ some fuckin’ attention?” You hated how hard your core squeezed at her belittling tone. You nodded as fast as you could in her tight grasp.

“Not g’na til I cum, you’re gonna fuckin’ lay there’n let me do what I want, tha’s what you wanted right? Huh?”

More hot tears were falling to your hairline as you quietly sobbed and pleaded for her to touch your pussy, but she wasn’t hearing any of it. She released the grip she had on your head, but she just shoved her drenched, lubricated fingers into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed around them, sucking them deeper.

“Gonna fuck that throat so hard one day, swear to god.”

You hummed and garbled pleas around them in excitement.

“Shit! Need that? Just wan’ something in that pretty mouth?”

You nodded, you kept nodding, you want anything she’ll give you.

“G’na fucking cum, all over that gorgeous face,” she gritted out as she snatched her fingers from your mouth. Her wet hand flew to your tits, pushing them closer together so that she could fuck her dick into the little hole she tightened.

“W-Wan’ your cum, daddy!” you encouraged her as you watched, you needed her to cum!

“Shit, baby, stick your tongue out,” she whined out as she grinded her dick between your tits. Your eyes opened and your tongue immediately started swiping across her tip whenever it came up to your mouth. Her hips jolted and stuttered on top of you as she watched you, and you watched her. You hurriedly sucked her rubber tip into your mouth and sucked sloppily like you were trying to milk her. You knew she couldn’t feel the suctions, but you saw her eyes roll back into her skull as she let out a loud moan. She was bucking her hips into her strap as her nails dug into your tits. You kept the tip in your mouth as she rode out her pleasure.

She looked so pretty and soft: fluttery lids, swollen lips, and her dotted cheeks flushed as quiet whines left her mouth. So pretty, she’s so fucking pretty—

Her tip suddenly slipped from your mouth as she scooted down your body.

“K-Kiss?” you asked softly, voice unsteady.

She didn’t say anything as she leaned down to connect your lips. It was light and careful, both of you breathing into each other's whines. She made sure to check on you, mumbling an okay? against your mouth. You whined out a yesyeah m’okay before you reconnected your lips.

You kissed for what felt like hours before she sat up to move off you.

“W-Wan’more,” you mumbled with pleading expression.

“Okay, babe.”

You watched as she scooted down, shuffling until she was between your legs. She held one of them up with a hand under your knee to press it to your chest, playing with your entrance with her free hand. You felt her slide a finger in and your mouth fell open, your walls clinging to her the deeper she prodded. You were stunned at how fast she found that spongy spot inside you, and you squeezed her tighter.

“Loosen up, can barely fucking move.”

You couldn’t do anything except wail out incoherencies about how fast you were going to cum, and you felt her slide another finger in.

“Nuh uh, hold it.”

“Can’t, Ellie, fuck— “

“Yeah you can, hold that shit.”

You tried you tried, but you couldn’t. All you could get out was a cry of stop, baby! stopstopstop before your peak washed over you.

But the pleasure left as fast as it came as she pulled out with a tsk, another slap landing on your pulsing clit. You sobbed her name, tears running down your temples.

“Couldn’t even hold it for a few seconds?” She scolded, and it made you and your pussy cry harder.

“Stop crying,” you felt her releasing the tight grip from under your knee to softly wipe your tears off your face. “Look at me.”

Your glossy eyes slowly peeled open, taking in the sight above you.

“Good?” she asked softly, and you nodded with a whimper of m’okay, El, I like it so much! please fuck me!

“Yeah? Babygirl wants some dick?”

“Yes! Pleasefuckmee—!”

You let out a groan when you felt her dick slap on your pulsing bud. You were spewing pleas and curses and cries of her name; you wanted her inside! Wanted to feel her so deep in your stomach!

You couldn’t help but lift your head to look down at her cock sliding between your folds, her thick tip nudging your clit with every thrust.

How were you about to cum from that alone? Your eyes were fluttering from the pleasure. You whimpered out a warning of your impending orgasm.

“You gonna cum from this? M’barely doing anything.”

You couldn’t speak, you just nodded. Your mind was hazy and racing with thoughts of her at the same time, your core clenching tight. Yeah, you were going to cum!

“Daddy—!”

“Fuuuck yeah, need me, baby?”

Your eyes rolled back so far back you swore you could see your brain shaking its head at you in disappointment, and you came so fucking hard. You felt her tip push past your spasming entrance as she quickly rubbed your clit with her thumb as it hit you. That stretch made you scream, and your head fell back.

“S’so big!” You couldn’t even register what you were saying, your burning orgasm taking over your mouth.

“Gonna be my good girl’n take it? Gonna make me proud?” Her voice sent another wave through your body as it shook in painful pleasure.

“Yeah, daddy, m’your good girl!”

“Then lemme in, love, c’mon,” she whispered out over your moans and groans and squeals. Your orgasm was still ripping through your body, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the new puddle on the blanket. She was tearing you open with every shallow thrust, but you took every ridged, veiny inch like you were meant to.

“Good, baby? Talk t’me,” she said gently, halting her thrusts as she caressed your thigh.

“M’sti—m’stillcummimg—! “

She scoffed a wet laugh at you and went even deeper, “I feel it, squeezing the fuck outta me. Dirty fucking whore.”

You felt the balls of the strap resting against your ass as you slowly came down. She was all the way in, slowly pulling out only to push back in. Her tits were slightly jiggling in her bra every time she bottomed out. Your hands wriggled in the fabric; you wanted them in your mouth so bad.

“Wan’touch you, daddy, please?” you moaned out in a gasp as she fucked back into you, stretching you out.

“Touch me where?” She asked, thrusting deeper.

“Mmh! Your tits, please!”

She huffed smugly before fucking into you faster. She brought her hand up to her chest, squeezing one of them through her bra, “These tits?”

“Yeaah, fuck!” You could already feel another orgasm twisting in your gut at the painful stretch.

She mumbled out an uh huh as she slowly pulled the elastic up, her breasts slowly dropping out. She slowed her thrusts and brought her other hand to pull the cotton over her head, throwing her head back as both hands played with her nipples. Her moaning made you moan and fuck, you were in love!

“Lemme go, El, fuck!” you pleaded, your hands pulling at the restraints. How was such fragile cloth so resistant!

“Shit, baby, feels s’fucking good,” you watched her pull and twist them as she whimpered your name as she ignored you. She’d stopped thrusting to play with herself, only slowly grinding her hips into you, so you planted your feet on the bed to thrust your hips downward, clumsily bouncing up and down on her dick as you watched her.

She looked down at you and sneered, “Yeah? Wanna fuck me?”

“Yes, w’na make you cum, daddy.”

“Here, baby, gimme your hands,” you halted your movements bringing your arms to hers. She tore the knot in your panties and tossed them before slowly pulling out fully, a nasty shhlck! filling the room. You were so wet.

She leaned above you, reaching over your head to grab some pillows, setting them beside you. Her tits were in your face, so you slowly brought an inexperienced hand up to touch one softly. You gave it a gentle squeeze, bringing your other hand up to rub into the other. She let out a satisfied sigh of your name. You leaned up, boldly taking a soft nipple into your mouth. You sucked at it softly as your eyes fluttered shut, swirling your tongue around the sensitive skin.

“Shit, tha’s so good,” she moaned out before pulling at your now sweated out hair. You gave her one last hard suck before your head fell back on the bed, her mouth instantly connecting with yours in a spit-filled, smacking kiss. Her tongue was sliding all over yours before you sucked it into your mouth, making her moan into your mouth. She brought her hand up to wrap around your throat, gently squeezing the sides. She pulled back with a look of concern on her face, grip immediately loosening at your whimper, but you brought a hand up to cover hers on your throat, squeezing tighter. Your eyes nearly crossed when she hummed with a knowing smirk, pressing her middle finger and thumb into the sides again. She pulled away, licking your bottom lip before bending down to whisper in your ear.

“Turn over.”

You stumblingly flipped onto your stomach as she shoved two plush pillows under your hips to support them, even though you were poking your ass out towards her anyway. You felt her slap it playfully before kissing it.

You felt her hands pulling your cheeks apart like she told you to do to yourself earlier. You felt her staring and it made your heart beat faster.

“Okay, El?”

“Mhm, just looking.”

You looked at her over your shoulder, “You can… um… y’know?”

“No, I don’t know,” she snickered.

“What… what you said earlier?”

“What’d I say?”

“About me! The thing you said!”

“Want me t’eat your ass?” She said in between kisses on your cheek. She was grinning so hard.

“…Y-yes?”

“Then ask me.”

You looked forward with a harsh sigh, “You’re so annoyi— “

A tight hand grabbed your hair to pull your head back roughly. You let out a pained moan at the ceiling before you felt her lips at your ear, “What’d I tell you about that fuckin’ mouth?”

You instinctively pushed back on her with a whine of m’sorry daddy!

“No, you’re not, you keep talking shit’n it’s pissing me off. I’ve been trying to be nice t’you.”

Nice?! She almost made you black out with one orgasm!

You didn’t have a response, but your eyes actually did cross when you felt a thumb prod your ass.

“Should just shove m’dick in here, huh? I bet that’d get you to shut the fuck up,” she spat out and your back arched deeper at her proposal.

You felt another glob of spit land on your other hole, her thumb immediately circling it before popping the tip of it in. You let out a loud moan at the intrusive sting.

“Been wanting me to fuck this ass since I said it, haven’t you?” She rasped at you.

“Yeah!“

“Yeah!” She mocked you in a squeaky tone. “You’re disgusting, who woulda thought you would like this type of shit.”

Her thumb was fucking in and out of your hole as fast as she could manage. You shouldn’t like how much it hurts, that burn shouldn’t be making your orgasm build up again.

She let your hair go and your head flopped onto the pillow in front of you. Your nails dug into it when you felt her dick line up at the entrance of your pussy before she shoved it in. You let out a muffled shout.

You didn’t have a chance to adjust before she started fucking into you hard. Squelchy noises, slaps of skin, and your screams of pleasure immediately filled the room, her headboard knocking against the black walls. It was so fast and hot and made you feel cheap, and you fucking loved it. It made you feel desired.

“This is what you wanted me to do in that fuckin’ closet?”

“Yeah, daddy, fuck!”

“Wanted me t’fuck you up? Make you m’fucking bitch?”

“Uggh! El—!”

“Shouldn’t even be fucking you in this bed,” She groaned out, grinding her thumb deep into your ass.

“Should’ve bent you over that dinner table, right in front of that fucker.”

The imagery of Ellie fucking into you in front of your asshole of a waiter, making you scream out in front of everyone eating and drinking, claiming you as hers so that they know who you belong to made you see white. You bit down on the pillow in front of you as bursts of wetness left your cunt and splattered onto your thighs, the pillows, and Ellie’s dick. But she didn’t stop, you felt her go faster. Hit deeper.

“M’cu-mming!” you screamed, shouts of prickling pleasure muffled by the material in your mouth.

“Yeah? Tha’s making you cum? Wanna get fucked in public like a whore?”

“D-ahh! Fuckme!”

“Baby’s so stupid for this dick,” Her tip was hitting your fucking cervix and it hurt so good. You were about to cum again! “Who’s pussy is this?”

“S’your pussy! S’daddy’s pussy!”

“Keep sayin’ that, s’gonna make me cum so hard,” she groaned out, her thumb leaving your ass and ripping the pillows from underneath you, your hips dropping onto the bed. You felt her push back into you, her chest on your back as she grinded deep into you. Her arm came around your neck, your throat right in the crevice of her elbow as you let the pillow fall from your mouth. Your nails were digging into the covers as your cunt gushed on her.

“You’re getting so fucking wet. Like when I fuck you up? Treat you like shit?”

“Yeah yeahyeah—!”

“Make me cum, babygirl,” she whispered in your ear. “Fuck me back, c’mon.”

You pushed back onto her as best as you could as she grinded forward, even though it was quick and sloppy and desperate. She started moaning out fucks and like thats and all you could mumble out was slurry s’yours, daddy! because you knew she liked it. Her voice on its own was getting you there.

“Fuck, m’gonna fucking cum— “

“Uh huh! Cum in me, daddy pleasepleaseplease!” you squealed out in dazed excitement. You want her cum you want her cum!

“Fuuuck, babygirl, s’coming—!”

“Please make my p-pussy sloppy?” you could barely get your pleas out as your mind fogged. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassed at your eagerness for her cum, and by the way Ellie shouted your name in your ear as her body shook on top of yours, she must’ve somewhat liked it? Right?

Your second thoughts quickly died as you fucked back onto her, helping her ride out her orgasm. She was crying out as her nails dug into your shoulder, and the sharp pierce made you cum again! You let out babbles of her name in your pleasure. You were both messes in each other's arms, you pushing back while she pushed forward, trying to make it last as long as you could before it died down.

You let out wet groans as she grinded you both to the ends of your orgasms, and you collapsed.

You felt a light kiss on your shoulder before Ellie gently pulled out of you, falling onto the bed so that you were side by side. You both tried to catch your breath in your exhaustion.

After minutes of heavy breathing and light caresses from Ellie, you reached under to grab the object that was digging into your side. When you saw what it was, your eyes widened, and stomach twisted.

You heard Ellie laugh softly next to you, “We didn’t get to use it.”

You paused as you stared at the buttplug that she’d thrown on the bed, the faux emerald at the end of it shining under the green fairy lights.

“It’s pretty,” you said in a hoarse whisper.

“Mhm,” she nodded. “Feels good, too.”

Your toes curled.

“What’s it feel like?”

She smiled, “You sound cute when you ask that.”

You shook your head and grinned shyly, “I’m just curious, I assume it’s… nice, or whatever! People on Twitter always talk about it.”

“Yeah, it’s really fucking nice.”

“Have you used it?” She nodded.

“Course I have, used all of ‘em.”

“Tell me what happened!” you said, dropping the toy on the bed before giddily flipping onto your side to face her. It made her giggle; You loved that sound.

“I was… like in this sex shop in Cali, and the cashier was like ‘heyyy, your orders over a hundred dollars, you can get a free item, blah blah blah’— “

“Not that, you bonehead! I mean when you use it!” You both let out loud laughs.

Her smile dropped slowly before she whispered, “Came really fuckin’ hard the first time I tried it, like… really hard. Swore I saw god.”

Your core squeezed in intrigue. You listened closely as she continued, “Like, I was still cumming even after I switched it off. There was a giant puddle on the floor when I finally stopp—.”

“Ellie?” you softly cut her off.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Can you… will you… I wanna try?” you said as your face burned, hoping she would accept your poor proposal to take your… other virginity.

You watched a sly grin slowly grow on her face.

“Lemme go check on Duchess’n smoke.”

You nodded slowly with a fluttery blink.

It was almost midnight, and you were laying next to Ellie on her couch in her Lauryn Hill shirt as you nursed a bottle of water. You watched as she exhaled the smoke from her pre-roll.

After chasing Duchess around the kitchen and living room, you both covered her in kisses before filling her food bowl and shutting the guest door as she ate.

“Such a nice view,” you mumbled as you gazed out the large window. You’d never been fond of the city: you always appreciated the stillness of your town, the close community where everyone knew each other, but the scenery in front of you almost makes you want to change your mind. It was always so lively and bright, even in the darkness.

“Right? When I first moved in, I slept in front of the window for weeks. The noise helped me sleep a bit better and the lights are pretty,” She said quietly before taking a puff. You listened and watched as she exhaled the smoke. You sat your bottle on the floor before speaking.

“Can I try?”

“You know how?” She asked impishly with a raise of her brow as the remnants of her puff left her mouth and nose.

“Fuck you! I know how to smoke, I just choose not to!”

“Right,” she said with an eye roll, gently tapping the ashes off on the ashtray in front of her before passing the joint to you.

You propped yourself up on your elbows before taking it between your thumb and pointer finger, watching the smoke leave the lit end before sticking it between your lips. You only inhaled for a couple seconds before pulling it from your mouth, softly coughing.

You slowly turned your head to look at her for approval, finding that she was already watching you. Her hair was still damp from earlier, her lips were swollen, and she was still in her boyshorts.

“Meh. Still a fucking rookie,” she said in a light tone as she wet her lips. You shoved her shoulder with yours, making her laugh.

“That strain’s supposed to make you horny,” she whispered, attempting to grab the joint from you. Something nasty curled in your gut at her tone, mindlessly bringing the joint back to your lips and inhaled some more before she could snatch it. You held it much longer than the first puff before choking on the carbon, making her laugh at you. You felt her pat your back gently through your coughs. You passed it back to her and she took it with a shake of her head.

After she smoked her joint down, she bolted upstairs, swiftly returning to the couch with full hands.

You flipped onto your back as she pressed the button on the buttplug remote, and it immediately started pulsing. She smirked down at you.

“There’s a couple settings, we can try ‘em all and see which one you like the most, ‘kay?”

You nodded eagerly as she switched it off and threw the toy on the couch next to her dick and flavored lube. She straddled you, grabbing your face in both hands to connect your lips in a soft kiss. You hummed into her mouth before she pulled away.

“Lemme give you head first, though.”

“S-sure.”

She hummed before smacking her wet lips onto yours. She planted wet, sucking kisses on your jaw, neck, and shoulder before she moved down your body. She lifted the shirt you had on just under your tits before she went crazy on your clit. She was flicking and licking and sucking between your legs as your fingers ran through her soft hair to pull her closer. Your moans and noises of your pussy as she fucked you with her tongue and fingers filled the entire first floor of her home. You came so quickly on her tongue, squeezing the muscle and fingers in a bone-crushing grip. You could tell she liked it as much as you did by how she moaned into your cunt.

After you came down, Ellie instructed you to hold your legs up so she could see your ass. They were pressed to your chest, both your arms tucked into the crevice of your knees as Ellie prepped you for the toy.

She’d rubbed some of your cum in before she spat on it, and now she was drenching her fingers and opening in the lubricant as you watched.

“Just relax, ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You were a bit nervous, but your walls were clenching with want.

She nodded before gently rubbing your drenched hole with her pointer and middle finger, making you sigh. You felt her slowly push a finger in and you immediately started to squirm. Your body was so hot already.

“Okay?” She asked you gently.

“Yeah m’good,” you said in a wanton sigh.

She grinned before kissing the back of your thigh. You felt another finger at your entrance before a burning sensation took over when she slowly pressed it in, and your head dropped onto the cushion in a choked gasp.

“Yeah? You like this shit?” She asked snarkily, but shock was evident in her voice.

“Y-yeah, El, like it!”

“So fucking cute, gonna fuck this ass so hard,” she whispered out, grinding her fingers deeper before pulling them out to squirt more lube on them.

She slowly pushed them back in and the lack of resistance made your toes curl.

“Do me a favor?”

“M-mhm?”

“Get that nice’n wet for me,” she said, shoving the emerald plug in between your twitchy fingers. You gripped it tight, releasing the hold you had on your legs so you could spread them. You brought your free hand down to your drippy cunt to spread the lips, exposing your clit. You slowly dragged the toy up and down your folds, a quiet, squishy sound joining the already sloppy noises in the room from Ellie’s fingers in your ass.

You could see her watching with a blush on her face, licking her lips as she prodded another finger at your clenching opening. You could feel the stretch more as she slowly popped the tip of it in, so you distracted yourself. You propped yourself on one elbow to bring the plug down to the entrance of your cunt, slowly fucking it into you. The silicone ridges dragged on your walls, and it made your eyes roll as you moaned softly. Ellie let out a shocked moan as she watched you fuck the plug in and out of your pussy. She leaned forward to spit on your clit, and you brought your shaky hand down to rub it. She mumbled curses out.

“Thinking about me fucking this pretty pussy? Wan’me t’split you open again?” She hummed out messily. She was just as fucked up as you were, and it made you squeeze.

“Yeah, daddy,” you moaned out softly, fucking the toy into yourself faster as Ellie fucked three fingers into your ass. “Shit!”

“Uh huh, nasty slut, look at you milking that fuckin’ toy.”

You picked up the pace of your shallow thrusts and she matched you, fucking even harder into your ass. You brainlessly brought your wet fingers up to your tits, roughly grabbing at both your nipples in attempts to mimic Ellie’s hands on you. You felt the familiar pull in your gut, but it was so much stronger, and you knew it was going to hit you hard. You were going to cum so quick!

“Ellie,” you could barely get your squeaky warning out, “Thi-think m’gonna, g’na make a m-ess!”

“Yeah, wan‘it baby, make me wet— “

“M’gonna—!”

You cut yourself off with a sharp gasp as colors exploded behind your eyelids, the hand at your tits slamming onto the cushion to dig your nails into it. Your shouts of pleasure overtook the sputtering sounds of wetness that shot out of you. You pulled the toy out and rubbed quick circles on your clit with it, making you release more juices all over Ellie’s expensive couch. She didn’t even seem to care with how hard she was still fucking your ass, whispering nasty curses at you, talking you through it, calling you sloppy, calling you hers. Your legs were trembling as both holes quivered in release.

Your sprays were starting to die down with the circles on your clit, Ellie’s fingers slowing.

Your eyes slowly peeled open, and you were met with her… high ass ceiling! You smiled as you felt her place kisses all over your thighs.

“Tired?” she mumbled out against your knee.

You slowly shook your head when you regained your ability to move.

“Wan’more.”

And she smirked.

Ellie moved you onto your stomach, —if she kept fucking you like this, you were going to die! — your face shoved into her cushion so you were surrounded by her scent. Your ass was, once again, propped up on Ellie’s expensive fucking pillows that you were about to stain with your sopping cunt, but neither of you cared. She was lubricating the plug from behind you, the gooey noises from the slippery liquid filling your ears.

You should’ve never hit that fucking aphrodisiac of a joint when she passed it to you: you never wanted to have sex so fucking bad in your life. You just lost your virginity a few hours ago; What’s happening to you?!

You couldn’t think of anything except Ellie and cumming and Ellie’s cum! You wanted her cum inside you so bad, you want to drown in her with every chance she’d give you—

“Ready, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, m’ready, need it s’bad,” you muffled into the cushion, your cheek squished against it. You sounded so… far away.

“Listen t’you, all floaty,” she murmured. You could hear her grin through it, it made your toes curl, “Feelin’ good?”

“S’good, daddy, fuck me please?”

“…Look at me, babe.”

You used all your energy to lift yourself up onto your elbows turning your sweaty, thoughtless head towards her, gazing over your shoulder and into her gentle, concerned eyes. She’s so beautiful—

“Baby?”

“Hm?”

“Why're you smilin’?”

“M’happy,” you felt yourself grin harder.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nodded lightly. “W’na fuck.”

“‘Kay,” she nodded, her searching gaze still lingering on your face. “Tap my thigh twice.”

You reached a limp hand behind you, immediately following her instructions.

“You do that when you wanna stop, okay?” You nodded, you felt like a bobble head. You want her in your guts now.

“What're you gonna do when you wanna stop?”

You paused.

Then tapped her thigh twice. You dropped your head on the cushion again.

You felt her kiss down your back. You sighed happily.

She slowly rubbed your clit and you jolted, before pushing your hips back onto her fingers. She was planting gentle kisses all over your back and shoulders to relax you. You let out a whine at the feel of her lips on you.

Then you felt the silicone on your hole. You moaned into the cushion in excitement and anticipation, you needed it to pulse inside you so badly.

“What’re gonna do when you wanna stop?” She repeated, her breathing heavy.

You slapped her thigh a bunch of times. You needed her to know you wanted it. You needed this so badly! You needed to know she wanted you!

Then you felt her pop the tip of it inside you. You cried out in appreciation as your holes clenched tight, trying to suck the toy deeper into you. She was pressing soft kisses all over your spine as she slowly pushed it in. You hadn’t realized that you were grinding your clit into the soft fabric of the pillow under you.

“Such a good girl, taking it so easy,” You felt her push the last little part of it inside your ass before the little jewel at the end of it was poking out of you. It was so foreign, but you couldn’t help the satisfied sighs and soft cries as you pussy dripped all over her pillows and couch.

You felt her plant one more kiss at the end of your spine before you felt the vibrations stir in your ass.

“Fuck, oh god! M’—aah!”

“Yeah? Feels fucking good, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t even have the ability to think of an answer before you felt her dick poke at the entrance of your cunt, slowly sliding in. Every wire in your brain went into overdrive as the pulsing of the toy and her cock rattled your insides in unison. She was slowly fucking her dick into you, sliding in deep so her tip bumped into your cervix, making you let out a muffled shout into the couch cushion.

“Fuckmedaddywan’itharder—!”

Your quick babbles were cut off as she sped up her thrusts, both her hands planted at the end of your back so she could rock you back and forth on her dick. She was drilling you, your slick coating the balls of her strap. You felt yourself slowly drifting away, your eyes crossed in your head and drool spilling down your cheek. All you could think about was Ellie. EllieEllieEllie—!

“M’right here, babygirl, I gotchu,” she cooed at you as she dug you out and you went limp. You heard the gushy sounds of your pussy and fuck, you were going to squirt so hard you felt it in your toes—

You felt the vibrations in your ass increase and you let out shouts of bliss, her tip beating your cervix just how you needed with every thrust. For the first time in your life, your brain was silent: no doubt, no loathing, no anxiety. Just pure ecstasy. You felt so fucking full. Full of her and joy and love! You love her and you never wanted her to leave you again. You love her you love her—

“M’yours, daddy, promise!” Tears pricked at your eyes as that hot feeling grew in your stomach. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn’t think, you just rambled as pleasure and happiness and love rushed through you. You were about to cum, all over her, all for her—!

“Shhh, I know, baby, it’s okay— “

“Don’t wan’anyone else! M’yours, always yours!”

You don’t remember when, but Ellie had pulled out of you. And the vibrations stopped. But you were still riding that edge, this close to your peak. Your fists clenched tight, and your hips bucked back to meet hers even though she wasn’t there to catch them. You heard Ellie gently call out your name from your side as she rubbed your back in attempts to slow your fuzzy babbling, “Look at m— “

“Always loved you, daddy, always been you, m’yours, m’all you— “

You cut yourself off with moans of her name and incoherent shouts and sobs of love you so much! I love you! as your orgasm ripped through you. Your thighs trembled as colorful specs of glitter exploded in your vision. You heard yourself screaming out as wetness splattered all over you and the couch and everywhere, and it didn’t stop. Your euphoria was so strong, your clenching cunt spraying as your ass squeezed around the plug shoved deep inside you. You were just shaking and crying and cumming and cumming and cumming—

You don’t know how much time passed, but you were still shaking as tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t feel the plug inside you and Ellie’s strap was gone: you were pressed against her bare chest, your tits pressed together as she held you close. She was rubbing your back as she pressed gentle kisses to the side of your sweaty head, gently humming in your ear. You slowly brought your arm up to limply throw around her waist. You couldn’t say anything.

“Hi, honey,” She barely whispered in your ear. “Can you look at me?”

You slowly shook your head. You felt her kiss your head again.

“S’fine, just breath, okay?”

You nodded again. And your eyes welled up some more.

She must’ve heard your sniffling because she immediately pulled back to gently caress your cheek. You tried to turn your head to hide in the cushion, but she wasn’t having it.

“C’mon angel, it’s just me, okay?”

You slowly redirected your gaze to hers, your vision blurry as you studied her features. You cried harder, sobbing as you nestled into her shoulder.

She didn’t press you after that, she only held you tighter. She whispered gentle shhhs and s’okay, baby, m’heres as you wept into her sweaty skin.

You know she heard your confession of your long-lasting feelings for her, and even though she didn’t seem upset with you, you couldn’t shake the embarrassment, confusion, and despair that overtook you.

But she held you. She held you so tight.

After your gasped sobs eased into soft whimpers and shaky exhales, Ellie guided you upstairs and into her bathroom, strong arms wrapped around your waist to steady your uncoordinated movements.

She lifted you onto the counter and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before moving to the shower to turn it on. All you did was stare at her black towel hanging from the wall rack. You still couldn’t think.

You heard her shuffling around before she moved back to you, easily easing you off the counter and into the shower, making sure to place you under the warm water first.

You gaped at the droplets sliding down the shower wall and she rubbed the lathered sponge into your skin softly. She littered you with kisses the entire time: on your face, shoulder, fingers, anywhere she could reach. But you couldn’t move, and neither of you said anything.

After Ellie rinsed you off, she gently dried your coils and face while kissing your nose. You allowed her to wrap you in a towel, gently drying off the rest of your body as you looked off into nothing.

“C’mon, honey,” she whispered into your ear as she moved behind you, holding onto your waist and walking you to her bed to sit you down, her soiled blanket already discarded on the floor.

It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion as you gazed around her room: the lights were twinkling like fireflies, her fan in the corner of the room whirring like gusts of wind in your ears, the strings of the rug under your feet reminding you of clouds.

She softly called your name as she walked in front of you. Your legs fell open so she could stand between them, “Look at me.”

You took a deep breath before meeting her tender gaze. She cupped your cheeks, softly rubbing her thumbs into them, “You needa eat and drink something, okay? Want some water?”

You nodded.

“Is it okay if I leave for a sec— “

You shook your head quickly as tears filled your eyes at the thought of her leaving. You need her close, you need her here with you—

“Shhh, not gonna go, not leaving, I’m right here,” she comforted immediately, planting more kisses all over your face.

“Want some clothes?” You shook your head, and she nodded gently. She gave your lips one more kiss before ushering you to stand. She walked over to her dresser and grabbed her pine-scented lotion and ointment. She moved behind you, rubbing the soothing cream on your ass before moisturizing your skin, the pine surrounding you. You calmed down at the smell.

“Okay, baby, come lay down.”

She grabbed your wrist gently as she moved you to your side, telling you to lay on your stomach as she pulled a new blanket from her linen cabinet. You obeyed silently.

You were instantly surrounded by warmth as she tucked you into her forest-scented covers. You heard her shuffling behind you before she walked around to her side in a new pair of boxers.

She laid next to you, pulling you into her chest as you breathed her in, sighing contently into her skin. She smelled so fucking good! You grinned.

She must’ve felt it as she pressed kisses to your head, “What’re you cheesing for?”

You shook your head and grinned harder, nestling deeper into her neck. She laughed lightly.

“We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” She whispered out to you.

You nodded, eyes shut.

You dreamt of pine-filled meadows.

OOOOOOWEEEE alright bookies that’s it :p i already got ideas 4 the next part LOOOOOL so yeah gonna start writing that soon. hope y’all liked it and the wait 4 the real smut was worth it. lots to comeeee

hope its proofread enough lol i always think that it is n then i go back and see a bunch of errors

pt. 6

shoutout to my wittle taglist🥺 love yall so bad n thank u for being interested in this little project i created :D @fandomshitpostingqueen, @nymphetkoo, @sawaagyapong , @gold-dustwomxn , @amitycat , @nil-eena , @elsivy , @constellieationn , @letsreadsomesins-shallwe :3

#ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #black!oc #black!reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams au #ellie williams x black!reader #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪#ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #scent of the pine. ̥*ೃ

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