#I don't think they'll keep me there against my will no? So sticking around with these guys- who seem to have some understanding of my | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caterpillarinacave · 6 months

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Well, you suppose, no point in hanging around their home, not unless you'd wanted to search the place, but the unfamiliarity with your environment and its odd creatures makes you hesitate to be left alone, so you join them on the creatures as they ride into town, sitting behind the older, friendlier person, the path from the hut takes you past the trees and onto a road, it looks like asphalt similar to your world which explains why you didn't think it odd before when you first went into town, though now you're curious about why they have it if they just ride these creatures, you observe the woods and can see a variety of trees, all looking autumnal, you find yourself wondering about the structure of the seasons around here, just how different is this world anyway? The walk is slow but pleasant, leaving you far too much time for thinking, the two you ride with chat amicably, though you can't determine the topic, you've resisted the urge to check your phone valiantly up until now, conserving the battery, but you've decided a sleeping phone still loses its charge, so you might as well fiddle around with it before the inevitable strikes, as it powers on you are surprised to find that the battery is actually at full power, as if you'd left it charging rather than turned off, but after a moment you really can't be bothered to care especially since you're already maxing your brain space putting one foot in front of the other as is, what's one one more oddity to the shenanigans? Still no service unfortunately, you flick open the camera and take a look at yourself, a little tired, a bit messy, but stunning as always, you flip the camera around and take a photo of the younger rider, looks the same even caught on a digital screen though, you can't say you're disappointed but you were kinda hoping for something more just for the heck of it, the two look at you curious and you show them the picture, the older one seems excited and pulls out a black box about the size of your palm and shows it to you, gesturing between your phone and it, you stare confused, the older one passes the box to the other and with a put upon expression the younger takes the box, holds it out in front of themself, almost like...a camera? They hold the box pinching a corner and the other hand pinching diagonal to each other and then pull, the box breaks apart into two triangular pieces, between the two pieces thin silvery strands appear and then solidify into an image, an exact reflection of you and your fellow rider, it's a picture, they hand it to you and close the box, putting it away, the photograph feels like a soft fabric, it acts like it too allowing you to fold it, on the other side is an image of the younger person who took the photo in the same pose as when it was taken, you have no idea what to do with this information, but luckily you guys are now riding into town so you tuck the photo away and refrain from overthinking it.

The town looks as it did before, the architecture is odd, not in that it looks horribly strange, just in that it isn't what the town you were from looked like...you are very knowledgeable on architecture of course, but it's about here your narrator fails you, suffice to say, the buildings are building shaped, taller than the structures from your town, the people seem to appreciate multiple stories more than your town did, and the rooftops are more sloped, perhaps this environment gets a lot of rain comparatively, the riders stop at what you would guess is probably a downtown sort of area, you didn't really see much of the town or its people in your panic before so you enjoy observing here, the people meander freely going about their day, if it weren't for the unfamiliar language and other minor changes you could honestly forget you were in the midst of some other world, you all climb off the backs of your creatures, the friendlier one goes to put them away, when they get back they say something to the younger and then shoo you both away indicating that you two should stick together while they take care of some errands, feeling a little wrong footed you follow the younger person around, they enter shops, clean and organized, they feel like local shops at home, the younger wanders with you in tow, they don't seem to be buying anything, between shops you notice a group of kids, unlike all the adults you've seen they all have bright colorful hair, including colors unnatural in your world, pinks and greens and blues alongside your standard blondes and redheads, you wish you could ask why all the adults have dark hair, if it was a fashion thing or a natural aging thing or if the children dye their hair maybe, but that's a complicated topic for how little you can communicate. The two of you enter another building, it reminds you of a thrift store, everything seems randomly placed on shelves, less organized, there's writing you take note of but can't understand, on the shelves are many items which you don't recognize, but as you sift through a basket you find a hair brush, just a plastic bristled brush with some brand name you can actually read, it looks so odd sitting there among the box of long spiky sticks, so you pick it up and head to what you presume is an employee or something at the back near a counter to ask where this came from but alas, you still don't speak the language and they unfortunately do not know what you want, they do take the brush though and tap it to the counter, a square appears on a screen you hadn't noticed and the employee stares expectantly, you're hit by that one feeling of being left at the cash register when you aren't the one paying and realize that's because you are exactly in that situation, before you can embarrassedly turn and walk away, your companion walks up and taps a space beside the screen which glows and the square turns to a circle before fading away, the brush is handed to you and you both leave, of course you refuse to be impressed or flustered, you're sure if any of them saw how tap to pay worked in your world it'd be pretty confusing too.

You inspect the brush but find nothing interesting about it, as the two of you finish wandering you end up back where the creatures were left and settle in to wait, you figure your hair could use a brushing and get to work, your companion gives you an odd glance but you pay it no mind, at least until you look down and find a streak of blue in your hair where you just brushed, confused you check the bristles but they seem clean, yet your hair is blue, you put the brush away annoyed, you feel a headache coming on, instead of brooding you pull out your bundle of berries feeling hungry, you inspect them each carefully remembering how they tasted before and pop one in your mouth, immediately your headache disperses and you feel less hungry and tired, you put away the berries and go back to waiting, once the older person comes back with a cart of boxes they hook one of the creatures to, you all head back to their place, on the way the friendlier companion hands you a black box which you recognize as the camera like item, indicating that you should keep it, you guess they got it for you while shopping earlier and you accept it bemused but thankful, when you all get back you help unload the boxes and when you're all done you're offered a place to stay, you aren't sure for how long they mean, but you have a feeling that understanding your predicament they mean quite some time, they show you a smaller, yet still cozy hut off to the side of the main living house with what you can easily identify as a bedroom and bathroom, not having anywhere to go you accept for the night and enjoy an evening meal with them before going to bed, but as morning approaches you have to decide what to do next, do you plan to accept their offer to stay longer?

(Feel free to expand on your choice either way. :) )

Yes.

#I don't think they'll keep me there against my will no? So sticking around with these guys- who seem to have some understanding of my #language and some understanding of what's going on is my best bet #plus it doesn't seem like anything's dangerous out here but there's a chance it could be #and I dont really wanna be stuck out in the rain #so I'll stay for now and search around the hut. however I don't neccessarily want to stay here forever #the hair turning blue is worth noting. I should pay attention and see if anything else changes. Do I start to understand their language?#Do I start looking more like them? Did everyone there walk through the door and turn into garden people?#Probably not since everyone doesn't seem to know whats going on but worth paying attention to #Good to know I can cross planes of reality and still find a Wet Brush #( The stunning comment really made me smile. I needed to hear that today <3)#I wonder- Do the berries taste because they are different because ive crossed worlds because they've been exposed to the air #or do they taste different to the inhabitants and I'm taking on some of those characteristics?#Apple pay confuses me in my world and it confuses me in this one #yes no anon #Guys I got lost in a black berry bush

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chaepink · 10 months

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can u make headcannons on sub!yan’s tendencies in the relationship?

also can i be 🉑 or 🌝 anon?

dating sub!yandere boys hcs ♡

sub!yandere boys when they date you.

wc: 1.1k+ words | masterlist

dom!fem!reader, unhealthy relationship, mention of killing/murder, both sfw and nsfw!, mention of feminization, bondage

note: yes you can be 🌝 anon!

— your yandere would be possessive of you, even more compared to when you two were just friends

— well, you thought you two were just friends. he already assumed you two were together sometime earlier during his friendship with you

— he would do anything for you in order to make sure you're happy and safe

— a friend of yours is getting too touchy with you? well the next day that friend is ignoring you and when you confront them, they look at you scared and quickly scurry away from you. did your yandere do something to them? surely not

— a weird guy keeps following you around your neighborhood? well a couple of days later you see on the news that his body has been found near a river and weirdly enough, you havent seen your yandere on the days before the guy's death

— you complain to your yandere about how a teacher gave you a bad grade on something you worked so hard on? suddenly your grade changes to a A and that same exact teacher suddenly resigns from the school

— he'll try his best to know where you are most of the time and try to follow you back home to make sure you're safe (though its really obvious, you don't acknowledge him so he thinks he's actually doing something)

— but no matter how scary and possessive they are of you, they just want to be good for you, really

— its almost as if they're a puppy for you, always there for your beck and call

— give them a simple command and they'll do it immediately, no questions asked

— ask them to buy you a snack from the nearest store? he'll return back with a bagful of others that he thought you would like

— they're super clingy and always want to be near you

— somehow they manage to have the same exact classes that you have and at the same time. maybe you guys are just lucky? little do you know that your yandere hacked into the principal's computer to change his schedule to fit with yours

— if you're sick, they would immediately fetch you some medicine and make so many bowls of your favorite soup that you're not sure you could finish them all

— they would be so sad when you're sick cause that means they can't be as close as they usually are with you :(

— in bed, nothing changes at all. rather, he becomes even more infatuated with you

— they're still so good and obedient for you, always following your commands. its cute

— like what i said with him doing it with no hesitation, your yandere is eager to do what you say

— tell him to get on his knees? say less as he's already doing so, staring up at you with such innocent eyes

— tell him to open his mouth for you to stick your fingers inside? he opens wide and sticks out his tongue in such a sinful manner, hazy eyes absolutely begging you to make him choke on your fingers as drool drips down his chin

— order him to suck your strap and get it all wet? he's quick to get in between your legs and get his hands on the fake dick, his mouth going straight to bobbing it up and down and gagging as it hits the back of his throat. he'll try to subtly grind his hard on against your foot without you noticing but you do anyways but he's being a good boy so you allow it

— and oh my god is he so shameless in public

— no hesitation in telling you what he wants you to do to him when there are people around

— you'll be at brunch with some of your friends and suddenly you'll feel a hot breath on your ear, such sinful words coming soon after

"im wearing lingerie under my clothes, your favorite set too. wouldn't you like to just ruin me right here and now? make me cry and look so pretty while you show everyone im yours?"

— safe to say that you immediately dragged him to the family bathroom and fingered him until he was gripping onto you for dear life, begging and crying out for you to stop and take pity on him (he's lying about wanting you to stop)

— when you're out with errands or just at work, he'll take such sinful pictures of himself to send to you randomly

— the pictures would include his legs spread out, a obvious bulge in his underwear, and something adorning his body whether its lingerie, a maid outfit, or rope that's tied so tightly on him

— if he's feeling like teasing you even more, he'll send whimpering audios that beg you to come home and fuck him and if you listen close enough, you'll hear some wet noises that let you know that he's masturbating

"f-fuck, [name] come back s-soon, please? i-i miss you so much! i- ah! i-im wearing your favorite outfit right now! i'll be a g-good ngh boy waiting for you ♡"

— itll end up with you rushing home after you're finished to fuck him dumb in that outfit, making it stained with his tears and cum

— he knows you can't really get him pregnant but your yandere just loves those straps with cum in them that you can just shoot inside him whenever you're fucking him fast and rough

— that'll make his eyes roll back and head throw backwards as he lets out such a loud mewl at the feeling of your fake cum filling him up

— and afterwards he'll tease you by using his fingers to push the cum thats gushing out of his hole back in before licking his fingers

— although your yandere is a good boy for you most of the time, theres times where he's a brat

— he'll talk back to you whenever you command him to do something or cum without permission

— but just some long edging or overstimulation will break him and turn him into a sobbing mess

— tying his hands to the headboard and keeping his legs spread apart whilst a vibrator is inside him on the highest setting is his favorite punishment

— your yandere thinks you don't know that since you do it all the time but you actually do know it, you just love the way his face is stained with his drool and tears while his chest and the sheets underneath him is covered in his cum afterwards

— such a slut but we love him for it

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

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bi-writes · 2 months

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i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3

mail-order bride

he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.

it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.

there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.

they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.

even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.

it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.

it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.

the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.

there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.

he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.

price looks tired. he needs to go home.

"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.

"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."

price shrugs.

"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."

simon shrugs.

"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."

"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."

"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."

his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.

they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.

but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.

simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.

simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.

but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?

simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.

he understands what you can never get back.

he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.

"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.

he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.

she needs you

it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.

but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.

his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.

he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.

there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.

things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.

when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.

and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.

it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

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Whenever I get a particularly nasty message, I always check to see if they're following me first. Nine times out of ten, they're not. But they're also, unfortunately, the same people who feel entitled to send me multiple messages in a row, most of them heavily steeped in the language of moralization and purity.

Like whenever I talk about painkillers or pain management, I always get a handful of well-meaning people who are maybe new to my blog or are just young, asking me if I've tried diet/exercise/meditation, etc.

Sometimes I'll respond to them. Other times I'll just ignore them because I get those kinds of messages so often it's like white noise, and maybe part of me hopes if they stick around on my blog, they'll learn it through exposure via my incessant bitching.

When you see me responding to someone offering that kind of advice, it's either because I'm at my fucking limit or because I'm hoping it's a teachable moment and an otherwise seemingly nice person might unlearn some harmful biases.

The people who don't follow me are not interested in any kind of conversation on the subject. They do, however, feel the most qualified to tell me, someone they didn't know existed until one of my posts crossed their dash, how to manage my life, everything I'm doing wrong, and why I'm a bad person.

And for them, my disability is proof that I am a bad person because they view health as a moral issue.

If you're sick, it's because you don't exercise enough, don't eat the right foods, don't pray enough, don't do enough. They genuinely believe that if they say and do all the right things, like a Good Person, they'll never get sick.

It's their security blanket against the harsh reality that anyone is one bad day away from disability. One faulty gene, one bad infection, one bad accident away from a life-long diagnosis. And if they do get sick, it's a test. A challenge to be overcome with Willpower as they learn the True Meaning of Life.

It can never just be a simple fact of life that sickness happens. That disability exists without a moral reason.

And it's suffocating.

Day in, day out. Folks who don't know me from fucking Eve telling me I'm being punished. Not always as outright as that. They don't always use that word. But sometimes I appreciate it when they do because at least then they're being honest. They're not couching it in the softer language of leftist circles. Not hiding it behind concern.

Because the truth is, there are just as many folks who think they're liberal and enlightened who'd be happy if disabled people just stopped existing. They don't like thinking about us because it makes them think about themselves. About their own fragility and mortality, and they hate that. They hate that there's something they can't control with their thoughts and actions. That they can't moralize their way out of.

Honestly, it's a relief when people are just cunts about it because I can hit the block button, safe in the knowledge that they were never the kind of person who would see me as a person. But when it's some 20yo kid with their pronouns, orientation, and "ACAB" in their profile spouting the same kind of moralization, sometimes even with the language of eugenics, it feels like such a betrayal. Like a loss.

And perhaps if I wasn't multiply disabled, I'd have the energy to pull them back. To tell them why they're wrong and hope like hell they realize what they're doing is harmful. But then, if I wasn't disabled, they wouldn't be messaging me, so I wouldn't be dealing with it.

I wouldn't be expected to use my existence as a teachable moment to spoon-feed them compassion. But I am, and I do. When I can. Not always with the grace that's warranted. Not always with the thought and compassion I ought to. (And I don't; I acknowledge that. I'm prone to anger and off-the-cuff remarks that are hurtful too. Though I try to keep most of it to myself or save it for therapy.)

Basically, if you've made it this far through the TED talk, don't be fucking cunts to disabled people. Don't tell chronically ill people to try yoga. Don't moralize pain relief. Suffering is not noble.

You need to kill the cop and the priest in your head telling you otherwise.

And also if you're the nice people sending me nice messages. Thank you. It helps cushion all of *gestures* this.

#chronic health tag #long post #ableism #thanks for coming to this huge rant I'll probably delete later #also sincerely #thank you to everyone who does send nice messages #you are the majority #it's just that the assholes are louder

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etfrin · 10 months

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18+ — masterlist — bc: @cafekitsune — tag list

request: step-cest with dom!ethan maybe?

NSFW | dom! mean! step brother! Ethan x brat! fem! Reader

A/N: trying a new format for smaller works! And whoever requested this! I hope I did you justice :))

“Drop the attitude before I fuck it out of you,” Ethan sneered as he shut the door shut of the house. You raised an eyebrow, showing him the attitude with a smirk. “What attitude?” You sarcastically replied.

“This attitude,” he said, launching towards you and pushing you to the couch. He leaned in, his hand on your shoulder to keep you in place, both of your faces inches apart. “I don't see any attitude,” you whispered with a smirk, defiance in your eyes, “What I see is that you have a stick up your ass.”

That did it. That made him snap after a long day of tolerating your bullshit for no reason. It was time for a punishment. Surely you would learn if your step brother taught you how to behave like a proper girl.

That was how you ended up bent over the couch, your ass in the air, exposed for his view as you bit the armrest to keep your sound of pain and pleasure to a minimum. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction even when his thrusts got too rough, his weight on you suffocating. You refused to give him what he wanted. Your submission.

“You look so pretty when you take my cock,” he whispered to you, you could hear the cocky grin in his voice and a whimper escaped you when his hips hit yours. “Your pussy is sucking me in. Look how tight it is. How wet. It's begging for my cock to never leave.”

“Would you like that?” He asked, as his cock brushed against your cervix, making you gasp from the contact and tears spring to your eyes. But your sass didn't leave you yet so you moan, “Fuck off.”

He lets out a harsh laugh, his pace stuttering as his lips press to your back. “Fuck off, huh?” He mocks, “More like getting fucked by your stepbrother, sweetheart. You're a different breed of a whore.”

“And guess what..” he whispered to you, his mouth near your ear, his thrust now stopped as his cock stays inside your deepest part, “Gonna fuck you full of my come.”

He pulls you in closer, changing positions so you are on his lap now, his arms caging you. “Should I let you come?” He asks, his brown eyes filled with cruel amusement. Your hands were on his shoulders now for support as you take his cock. His cockhead was pressed right against your spongy spot. You couldn't think. You could only clench around his length and gush out juices.

He lets out a groan when he feels your walls tightened. “That's not gonna convince me, sis,” he said, his face flushed but his brown eyes determined to make you regret your past actions. “A sorry will work so much better.”

You glare at him in return before you begin to raise yourself so you can slam your hips down and ride him properly. He lets you continue the action once, or twice before he grips your hip and forces you to stay down.

“Stay still or I won’t let you come at all,” he threatens, “You'll take what I give.” You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to retort something only for a moan to escape when he raised his hips to thrust into you.

He held you down as he continued to use you for his pleasure and your punishment. But you were so close to cumming anyway, it didn't matter. That was until he had stopped right when you were about to snap.

You opened your eyes and your lips let out a wounded whimper. He grins as he hears the sound. His fingers find your clit, to abuse the bud with his fingertips. Harsh movements that made you cry out from the sensitivity.

“Sorry!” You gasp out, “Sorry, Ethan!” His fingers flicked your clit making you flinch and your walls squeeze his dick, making him groan.

“See? That was so easy…” Ethan glances at the clock. Ethan grins, “There's perhaps ten minutes left before our parents arrive, make me cum before then or they'll see just how much of a whore you are.”

tags: @stelleduarte

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the-faceless-bride · 1 year

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In need of 'Correction'...

Summary -> You were working for the other side, and while trying to plant bugs to gather information you end up getting caught, and while you thought you would end up dead... It somehow leads to something else... It seems the ones who caught you deem you in need of correction... A sweet doe-eyed thing like you wouldn't have done something like this on your own, you've clearly been manipulated... Don't worry, they'll help you.

⚠️warnings: porn w/ little to no plot, Non-con/Dub-con, forced orgasms, squirting, double penetration, anal (reader receiving), manipulation, mind break (?), yandere behavior (if you squint), ooc task force 141, I tried my best to keep reader GN! Read is called Pretty and has a vigina, reader is smaller than tf 141, readers codename is "Bandit", smut, slapping, being held against will, forced kissing, forced touching, forced oral (giving and receiving), interrogation, threats, dark content, violence against reader, might make a part 2 if you really like it, let me know if I missed anything!!!⚠️

Characters include: John Price, Johnny Soap, Simon Ghost, Kyle Gaz, Alejandro

A/n: I'm not the best at writing in Spanish, correct me if I write something wrong or incorrect, also I've been gone for a while so I'm a little rusty, please forgive me if it's shitty, ESPECIALLY the smut. If you have any tips I appreciate it, likes and reblogs are welcome!

You woke up with a throbbing in your head, your vision slightly blurred and your skin felt gross with the amount of dried blood that had been caked onto your face under your mask. You looked around, you were tied to a wooden chair and pushed into a small table, a single bright light illuminating the small room. an investigation room?.where were you? You don't remember much but you do remember being sent to plant bugs where the information is sent and getting information on some files...

You held onto the rafters crawling across as quickly and quietly as you could. Trying to reach the vents to crawl through and get right into the main office, you needed to plant a few bugs to get important information about some files and documents.

When you got into the vents you crawled around for a while trying to remember the layout you saw on the map. But you stopped when you heard voices. "-not sure, but whoever they are, they're smart. We gotta find them. They could be useful." another voice. "Maybe they can be persuaded to join our side? Money?" another voice. "tsk- shouldn't give money to a waste of air. How the hell sells out for money?! A disgrace if you ask me." they were talking about you. they wanted to get you on their side? Why? What for? Information? Skill? Or- oh shit.

The vent creaked.

All hell broke loose. Everyone in that room from what you heard got up and scattered to block off your only exits. You had to move fast.

You thought for a moment and chose to take the long way. You kicked open the grate beneath you and drop to the floor below. You ran out of the room. Taking turns. Trying to remember the way out.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Then your luck ran out and you slammed into someone's chest. You might know all their names, but you would be an idiot to not know him.

Ghost.

Then after a moment, he held you tightly the mask over your face becoming suffocating. And your vision began to blur.

He let you go and your head hit the wall, and you finally blacked out.

You didn't have more time to think before the door slammed open and a group of men walked through. They were all eyeing you. A dark hunger in their eyes.

One takes a step forward. You assume he is Captain Price. You try not to flinch as he rips the mask from your head. You still flinched. Some parts of your hair stick to your face. You fight the urge to try and wipe it off. Not wanting to risk taking your eyes off of the group of men that stood in front of you.

"hm-" a man huffed looking at you "When I pictured you, I didn't think you'd be so... Pretty?" a man with a Scottish accent thought out loud, the man next to him chuckled. "Soap, Gaz. Please. Keep it in your pants... For now." Ghost sighed.

Soap. And Gaz. That was their names...

You looked back to Price, he pouts in mock sympathy. Before pulling over a chai and sitting across from you.

"what's your name." he wasn't asking. He was giving you a command. His voice was deep and dripped with authority. In other circumstances, you would've felt flustered. But at this moment you were just scared. You weren't an idiot. These men were all bigger than you. You were a good fighter. But you knew if you tried to fight you would lose. And you didn't want to die here.

You looked up, making eye contact with Price. "I... I'm Bandit." you tried to hold eye contact but it was difficult. It felt like he was looking into the depths of your soul. You looked at your feet. Only to jump when his hand slammed on the table.

A faint, "aw" could be heard. You felt pathetic. "well. Bandit. You don't seem cut out for this kind of work. Too soft. Too jumpy. I don't wanna have to hurt that pretty face. So why don't you just tell me what you know? Confirm who you work for, and why you are on their side. And I might think about letting you go without a scare on you."

You look from him to the men behind him, back to your feet. You couldn't tell them anything. Even if they let you go after this you'll be tracked down. From where you sit. Both end in death. You didn't know these men well. But you knew the men you worked with. They were cruel, and unforgiving, and would skin you alive and leave you for the rats to pick at. You chose to take your chances with these men.

"oh? No longer interested in talking? Fine. But you asked for it. Alejandro. If you wouldn't mind?" Price stood from his chair. And the man Alejandro walked towards you. Your heart rate picked up.

You didn't get a moment to think as a hard smack was sent to the side of your face, fuck did it hurt. You tried to hold in the tears as a whimper escaped you. Blow after blow to your ribs, cheek, legs, and hands. All dealt with the same amount of unforgiving force. Ten minutes in you were a whimpering tear-stained mess. Small gasps of "stop." and "please." you were never cut out for this pain. You had always stayed in the shadows away from the fire. Now you curse yourself for not training your body and pain tolerance.

The strikes stopped and the man named Gaz took a step forward, his hand coming up to your face and you flinch away. He coos at you. Mocking you.

"you poor thing. You just want this to stop." you lightly nod your head as he takes a rag that he dipped in a bucket of freezing water - was that bucket always there? - he softly runs the rag over your face cleaning you of the blood and sweat. Using a hand to move hair from your face. The softness makes you mean into his touch. No longer wanting the painful touch.

"If you want this to stop, all you have to do is tell us what you know. What they know and why. Okay?" your lip trembles, "I can't." you whisper. "It was just meant to be a quick cash grab. I needed to help pay off a debt and this money was meant to help. If I tell you I either end up dead or tracked down and beaten to death later." Gaz looks into your eyes for a moment before they shift to the other men. They all seem to nod their heads, having a secret conversation with themselves. "we can protect you. As long as you work for us instead."

"b-but I don't know anything important about the people who hired me. I-" he and the rest of the men let out low chuckles, "no, we don't mean that kind of work. Just, allow us to show you how you've been wrong and do some... Physical work for us."

"physical work? But I'm not as strong as you guys and I don't have that much pain tolerance when it comes to this stuff and-" you were cut off, "don't worry, you'll get more of a tolerance and you being weaker is just how we like it." you were so focused on trying to put the pieces together to notice the rest of the men closing in on you, "I can see in your pretty eyes that your confused, allow as to make it nice and easy for you to understand."

The ropes around your hands and legs were snapped and you were lifted onto the table. Soap and Alejandro held down your legs, as Ghost and Price help your arms, Gaz worked on unbuckling your belt. After a moment of shock, the pieces finally fell into their place.

You began to struggle. "wait! I- you can't! Let go! Let me go!" Alejandro laughs at your cries, "More vocal now, aren't you pequeña? Just enjoy it. It's better than the pain before isn't it?"

Your pants are now around your knees, you wish you could close your legs or cover them but you can't. "don't worry love, I'll be nice. I'll prepare you a little." Gaz smiles at you as he lowers his head. Pressing a kiss to your clit before taking a long and slow lick up your cunt. "no please!" you struggle to keep yourself composed.

He kisses and sucks lightly on your clit, coaxing more sweet slick to drip from you. You don't wanna like it. You've never felt such pleasure in this way before. You didn't have sex a lot with your job but when you did it was rushed and didn't focus solely on you. But at this moment that was the only thing happening.

You felt him push a finger in, searching for that sweet spot that would make you cry out. And after a moment a gasp from you told Gaz that he had found it. He then pushed in another finger, both pushing against that spongy spot within you, sucking your clit at the same time. Your back arches. Stop it! You don't want this. You don't want to like this. This was wrong. Gross. So why did your body respond so willingly to him?

"she's fighting it." Ghost groans out. Clearly enjoying your sounds of struggle and strangled whimpers.

"awe, com'on hen. Let go. Enjoy it."

You gasp as you feel the knot start to tighten more and more. Don't. Don't you dare. If you do they'll win! You can't! Don't!-

You gasp. you feel a gush of liquid as the knot pulls tight and snaps. You look up, your vision around you blurring as you look into the one light above you. After a beat, you look down between your legs. Gaz's lips, chin, and even his nose were covered in your slick. You felt your face go warm with embarrassment, you had never done that before.

"oh fuck yeah-" Soap groans out and the others make a sound of agreement, all of them now all over you. Your body feels numb and you don't know if you have it in you to struggle. Soap kissed his way up to your chest playing with your chest, Alejandro kissed and left marks on your hips, Price and Ghost kissed your neck and collarbone.

You heard the sound of a belt buckle before feeling something warm, soft, and round rubbing against your entrance. You whimper knowing what's coming.

"oh lovie don't whine like that, you'll almost make me feel bad." Gaz teased slowly pushing in with a soft sigh as you clench around him. He leans over careful of the others and kisses you. The kiss is sickeningly sweet and soft. The soft whine he makes also does no favors in helping you keep your composer.

Soap pulls away with a light, "fuck it" as he makes his way over to the other side undoing his belt, "Hen, mind given me a hand?" you don't really get to respond as he takes your hand and wraps it around his cock, using your hand as a fucktoy the precum oozing and making your hand slick and sticky. "oh, yeah hen~ such a good little pet~" he sighs Alejandro soon joining his making you use both hands, both men grinning as they chase their pleasure.

Gaz thrusts a few times testing to see if you've relaxed a bit more so he could slide in and out easier. Once he was satisfied he pulled away making a motion towards the other men, they all move to the side. Soap and Alejandro stroking their girths, Price and Ghost finally undoing their belts.

You were now laid onto of Gaz as he pushed himself back into your dripping pussy, Soap and Alejandro taking your hands to stroke their cocks again, Price and Ghost finally picking their spots.

Ghost pushes his angry red tip against your plush lips, his eyes giving you a warning to dare and disobey the Silent order. And Price made his way behind you with Gaz, he wasn't as kind as Gaz was he simply spreads your ass apart before spitting and letting his tip do the work of spreading the makeshift lube.

You lick your lips nervously as you slowly open your mouth for the man looming over you. He wastes no time pushing his way into your mouth and thrusting his hips making sure to touch the back of your throat each time. And Price simply pushed in, no warning, no stretch, the burn was painful. It made you whine and sputter around Ghost who was starting up an unforgiving rhythm that would surely leave your throat raw.

The mix of Pain from Price, the pleasure from Gaz and his perfectly arched cock hitting the most sensitive part inside of you, and the lack of oxygen due to Ghost's unforgiving thrusts and the dirty words in your ears from Alejandro and Soap was overwhelming. But fuck was it good.

All these feelings, the fear inside of you, the lust. You just couldn't take it anymore. Fighting would be useless at this point.

You start pumping Soap and Alejandro faster, they both let out a surprised sigh but quickly allow themselves to be taken care of.

"that's it hen, be a good little toy for us~ fuck your so hot hen~"

"Sí, así como así mi amor. Esa es una buena chica, sigue acariciándome así."

Ghost groans with a smirk, you can't see it behind his mask but if you could you'd melt.

"That's it dear, focus on sucking that cock. You like taking my cock, don't you? You'll swallow it all right baby?"

Gaz and Price fucking into you.

"Fucking Slut, you like taking cock huh? you like the way I fuck you? Fuck your tight, never taking it in the ass before huh? Well, you're gonna have to get used to it my little slut."

"Fuck lovie, you're so good for us. You'll be good, right? You'll stay and be our little cock slut? You'll play nice right? Can't wait for the others to see you like this. Such a perfect little pet for us~"

You whimper and moan, Fuck you're gonna cum again. And from the sounds around you, so are they.

In a few moments, Soap lets out a sweet moan and paints the left side of your face white with his cum. The sight made Alejandro groan, you looked so pretty, covering the right side of your face with His cum too. They pull away admiring their work.

Ghost's hips pick up in spread before he slams down holding your head in place, your nose against the ash-blonde happy trail. Cum flowed down your throat, swallowing all you could. He pulls back as you cough and suck in as much air as you could.

Your hands shoot down to hold onto Gaz's shoulders, your moans now free for all to hear. You moan as you feel yourself squirt again all over Gaz's thighs, a moment later feeling both men fill you with their cum. Price was the first to pull out with a low chuckle.

"so what do you say Lovie? Wanna stay with us? I promise we'll give you lots of orgasms~"

Part 2 ->

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inkskinned · 2 years

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accidents happen. accidents particularly happen around children.

we make scissors designed for children because we know they can hurt themselves on it. we cut their food up smaller so they are less likely to choke. we "babyproof" our houses, make sure our medications are all closed and locked, close all the outlets.

we are told to just carry a gun.

at some point a kid is going to get hurt. everyone with or around kids knows this. often adults (who shouldn't work with kids) are a little-too-okay-with-this. they sneer that in their time, kids just got hurt. which is great for them, but i don't feel it's particularly necessary to willfully allow children to break bones just to "build character". the kids do just fine when i do my job right. i make sure, to the best of my ability, that they don't break the bone. it turns out you can still learn life lessons without trauma. yes, at some point they'll get hurt. that's the nature of it. but i like to try to keep it to a minimum of bloodshed.

about five years ago, in the middle of my summer training, the cop that came in to prepare us for mass shootings actually happened to be the same cop that used to be my DARE officer. what a small world! his hair had gone grey.

before working with children, i had no idea how many things a child can hurt themselves on. i had never thought about the possibility that a child could climb a bookshelf, only for that bookshelf to topple over. everything has to be screwed down. nothing can have particularly sharp corners - what if a child falls backwards onto it? - or be particularly breakable. no plastic bags or choking hazards. watch out for allergens, do your best to clean your super-gross classroom with all-natural (and expensive) fragrance-free products. there's a million other considerations, most of which are difficult on a public school budget. i hate the calculation - either the kids get a new playground 5 years from now OR they get new books now and just risk the tetanus.

the gun is not included in the paycheck.

we do our best, you know? but like, there's the rest of the actual job to do. we're neither trained, paid, or aided in our one-person quest to somehow get jason to stop giving himself splinters. and besides, we have the 98 other things to consider for our 30 other students. one of which is, you know, teaching them.

the children aren't prisoners. we need to walk this incredibly fine line of "chaotic exploration" and "reckless endangerment." to be frank - they're gonna do stupid shit and get hurt while they do the stupid shit. it's my job to at least try to predict the stupid shit, and minimize the risk. and before you judge the kids - i'm going to remind you that adults die every year from shaking vending machines. people just do stupid shit.

did you know that the leading cause of childhood deaths in america is to guns? we're the only country in the world with that statistic. it used to be motor vehicles, which is why there are so many laws about seatbelts, air bags, babyseats, and other protections against accidents. 1 in 5 childhood deaths will be a result of guns. of these deaths, 65% are the result of an intentional attack.

my brother often takes me to archery. i fucking suck at archery, because i have no aim, bad eyesight, and no grip strength. it's fun, though! as a teacher, archery at my school is super banned, because kids could get hurt. no throwing rocks or sticks. no impromptu self-made bows or arrows, oh my god, why do we keep having to have this conversation.

i remember this one conversation with a parent. he was chatting with me during pick-up and mentioned that kinder eggs being banned is so stupid, because, like, if a kid is gonna choke - they kind of "deserved it" for being so stupid. without thinking, my response was, "we don't typically practice darwinism at school, but you can encourage that at home if you wish!" which did result in me getting written up - for "talking back", i guess.

but his idea isn't unusual, is the thing. there's this sense that there's somehow almost an "expendable" child trauma rate. that it weeds out the weak or whatever, which is categorically cruel & dehumanizing. children should be able to mess up and have fun and - again - do stupid shit. they might get hurt, yes. but the job of the adult is to just go help the kid.

i had to quit teaching. i was really, really good at my job - 15 years of practice. but i would wake up at night, coating in sweat. trying to figure out how to bullet-proof my public school classroom with a public school budget.

bad things happen. in every other category: we try to prevent them.

#gun violence #gun control #warm up

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fortheb0ys · 1 year

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PRICE DURING RETIREMENT

I love old men...I love Price. TOP MALE READER FEM+MINORS DNI! Also not proofread lol

Once Price retires, he's so happy to spend the rest of his life with you. You both got married. You bought a house in a peaceful neighborhood, got a dog. Life couldn't be better. Well, it does. Having more free time just means more sex.

Even though he's an older man, he has the libido of a horny teenager. Sure sometimes he won't be fully erect or not at all but that doesn't stop you from sucking his flaccid dick till he begs you to fuck him in the ass. He found himself wearing bery little or sometimes no clothing around the house, just so you can be quick to fuck him.

You'd be tired from a long deployment, looking forward to relaxing and spending time with your husband but Price had other plans. Having been left alone for some time, his needs became unsatisfied by sex toys. He really needed your dick.

So you both met in the middle. Price got to fuck you to sleep. He'd would ride you till you could bearly keep your eyes open, you swear you passed out a few times. He put a cock ring on you to keep you going.

He hasn't really found much hobbies besides having you fuck him in literally every inch of the house. Bathroom sex check. Sex on the staircase, check. Sex while waiting for the laundry to dry, check. Hell, even having sex in the garden.

It was certainly his favorite due to gardening being his one hobby once he retired. Being outdoors, riding you as you sat in your sunbed. Having the warm sun on his face adding to the heat of your heavy cock dragging in and out of his tight ass. It was a bit of a rush to think if your neighbors were to peek over the fence to greet you or to figure out the commotion, they'd be surprised to see him having his back blow out as he's getting fucked against the fence.

You'll always have to tell him to hush but most of the time it didn't work, so you'd have to stick your cock in his mouth just to muffle his moans. 'How about I invite them over? Let them get to know the little slut who lives next door. Maybe they'll like to try him out,' you'd tease. Though he was full well knowing you wouldn't share.

Other days he'll just be soaking in the sun as his ass is filled with your cum. He'd just stick a plug in so he can feel it inside all afternoon while he's mowing the lawn or tending to the flowers.

Even though he was retired you were a few years away from yours. As you did paperwork, Price would sit in your lap as you cock warm him. Once he started getting bored, he'd start riding you without warning. Or he just be satisfied by having your dick resting in his mouth while he sat underneath your desk. Every so often you'd thrust in his mouth making him gag a little. He would rut against your leg like a bitch in heat as your balls hit his chin, drool dripping down his chin.

Price tries to put his two cents in when it comes to you commanding your troupes. It pisses you off cause 1. They're your men and 2. He shouldn't be thinking about war in his retirement so you fuck him as punishment. "You think you can tell me what to do? They're MY men and you don't have a say in my commands."

Price is just a hot old man that needs a good dick down :)

#call of duty mwii #john price #john price x male reader #x top male reader #john price x top male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #x reader #john price x reader #☆*charlie writes

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 1 year

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Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 3

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!Reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 / PART 2

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Oral (w receiving) hand job (m receiving). Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 6K

Author Note: Sorry it's taken me long to update we've had a death in the family and it's been a lot to deal with. Writing was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I'm just putting part 3 out there but once things are settled I'll write part 4. I'd like to think there'll be more parts than 4 because the story is now starting to pick up. But it depends on how well this part does. 🧡❤️🧡

Also, I changed part 2 slightly so it may be worth re-reading before reading part 3. 🧡

For those who asked to be tagged. Thank you so much for reading and sticking with the story. Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Curled up on the sofa beneath a cozy blanket, you slowly blinked open your eyes, adjusting to the room's muted glow. Rafe's voice, a deep murmur, sliced through the quiet ambiance. He was sitting on the edge of an armchair, his phone held to his ear while his other hand absentmindedly glided over his buzzcut.

"Why are they stalling?" his voice barely above a whisper was undeniably firm.

"And their counteroffer? No. Not for a piece of that size. They're well aware of its rarity, right? The clarity? They stand to gain at least 40% profit once it's resold. They know it. I know it. Ninety, and that's me being generous." His fingers stilled their exploration, and his thumb wandered down to his bottom lip, hinting at the storm just beneath the surface. "No, it's non-negotiable. Look, I'm trying to be nice here, alright? But if they keep fucking around with the number, they'll soon find out I’m not so accommodating after all. No more games. I'm done with their shit—Ninety. Final offer."

Your heart pounded, every beat magnifying the gravity of Rafe's words. This was clearly far more than just ninety dollars; it hinted at an intricate web of dealings far beyond your understanding. While whispers of his dubious associations had always floated around town, hearing Rafe speak with such authority was jarring. The sheer force he wielded and the unmistakable power resonating in every syllable revealed that he wasn't just a small player in whatever this game was. He was at its very epicenter, a dominant force controlling the strings. And as this realization washed over you, a sinking sensation set in: you barely knew him at all.

"Now, about that other forty. I want it. Today." He let the words hang for a moment, his tone colder "You keeping office hours now? What the fuck do you mean 'after six'?" His voice tightened with irritation. "Nah, I don't want to hear that shit." he spat. "It's either you have it or you don't, and you should have it since you had one job yesterday; to collect."

Despite trying to stay unnoticed, your numbing arm forced you to shift slightly on the couch, catching Rafe's discerning eye. Rafe's penetrating gaze bore into you, suspending the world in a split second. Amidst the pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows, the weight of the silence pressed in until Rafe finally looked away. "I'll be there in an hour," he murmured, his voice suddenly calmer. "I have some things to take care of first."

As he disconnected the call, you swallowed.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, your voice trembled as you propped yourself up on an elbow.

Rafe approached, confidence exuding with each step. "Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about," he reassured, leaning in for a gentle kiss on your lips.

"How long was I out?"

"About an hour, give or take," Rafe responded, his thumb brushed away a stray eyelash from your cheek. The simple, tender gesture contrasted starkly with the side of him you had just heard on the phone.

You hesitated, your curiosity getting the better of you. "Did you manage to get much done while I was asleep?" Hoping for some insight into his earlier phone conversation.

Rafe's smirk held many layers. "Yeah, handled some business, made a few calls, and I might've watched you a little...."

"Watched me? You mean you just sat there and watched me sleep?"

He moved closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Not often do I see you so… relaxed around me. So yeah, I indulged a little." He murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek. "Besides, I like knowing I can make you feel good. Make you cum til you pass out. It’s up there with watching you squirt,” he grinned.

The change in topic, from shady dealings to fevered intimacy, was a dizzying experience, and you found yourself taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"Listen," he suddenly said, leaning back to look you in the eye. “I have some business I need to wrap up. I could also do with a shower and a change of clothes." His gaze slipped down to his attire; he had changed back into his shirt, now less damp but very wrinkled. “What's your plan for dinner?

"Dinner?" You tried to keep up, the rapid change in topics leaving your thoughts scrambled. “Uh... Leftovers, I guess.”

“Wanna come over? Eat at mine instead?”

The invitation caught you off guard. The unexpectedness of it made you feel like you were navigating through a dense fog, with every step bringing a new, unanticipated revelation. But you nodded, despite the uncertainty coiling within.

Rafe's expression softened, picking up on your hesitation. He leaned in, his lips brushed against your ear. “You do know what this means, right? You'll have to deal with my company a bit longer. Think you can handle that without making a run for it?"

You tried to muster a playful retort, but his lips captured yours before you could speak, a deep, overwhelming kiss that made you weak.

Pulling back, he smiled, "I'll pick you up around six, yeah?"

“Okay.” Your voice was but a whisper.

As he moved toward the exit, the shadow of his phone call loomed over your thoughts. Only when you heard his truck roar to life did you finally exhale, sinking deeper into the sofa. Your mind was a whirl with questions you didn't know how to begin to ask, let alone answer.

By the time the clock struck 6, you were already fresh from a shower and dressed in jeans paired with a simple white vest top and an oversized cardigan. Right on cue, the low hum of Rafe's truck resonated outside, its headlights casting a gentle glow on your porch. After ensuring you had your phone and keys, you gave yourself a quick glance in the mirror and then headed out to meet him.

Suave as ever, Rafe leaned across his truck to push the door open for you. Offering his hand for support, he helped you up into the seat. A warm smile naturally bloomed on your face, and with a soft "Hey," you acknowledged his chivalry.

"Hey," he echoed, the familiar gravelly timbre warm and inviting. Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips with a kiss. As you pulled away for a breath, your gaze wandered over him, taking in every detail. He smelt amazing, something rich and woodsy, while the crisp black shirt and jeans he wore accentuated his toned physique. It gave him that distinct, effortless style he carried so naturally — the very essence of a kook.

As you settled beside him, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. It wasn't a lack of confidence in your appearance—Rafe had always been vocal about how beautiful he found you. He had a candid manner of complimenting, and today's earlier affectionate proclamations were just another testament to his feelings. Yet, a nagging voice inside you questioned why someone as polished and affluent as Rafe would be into someone like you when he could easily have anyone from his own elite circle.

As the journey began, the ambiance in the truck was tranquil, but underlined by a tension you couldn't ignore. Rafe seemed to be miles away, his eyes barely leaving the road ahead and memories of his earlier phone conversation played on repeat in your head. Could his aloofness be about the business deal you overheard? Did something go wrong? The only breaks in the silence were his occasional clearing of his throat or sniff, causing you to swallow hard and stare out of your passenger window to calm your nerves.

When you exited the vehicle at Tannyhill a rush of nostalgia hit, interwoven with memories that weren’t as endearing. It was weird being there now for pleasure rather than work and at the behest of Rafe not Rose. Possibly sensing your hesitation, Rafe gently grasped your hand, leading you toward the entrance. As he swung the front door open, an overwhelming quiet enveloped the surroundings.

"Is Rose and Mr. C around?" you asked, noting the dimly illuminated hallway that stretched toward the kitchen and beyond.

"Nah, they're in the Bahamas. Business trip. They'll be there for a while." Rafe replied, his voice echoing in the quiet expanse of the house.

"What about Wheezie?"

"She's with them.”

"And Sarah?"

Rafe's face twitched slightly. "Don't know, don't care. Haven't seen her in, what, three weeks? She could be in a ditch for all I care—" His gaze met yours, "I'm kidding," he smiled. Yet, a flicker of something shadowy behind his eyes made you think otherwise.

"So, it's just the two of us tonight?" you asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Rafe gave a nonchalant shrug, "Looks like it."

Entering the kitchen, your eyes flitted to the island, noticing several neatly stacked pizza boxes. "Planning a feast or what?"

His grin broadened, revealing the playful side you always adored. "Thought you'd be hungry after your day. Vegan, pepperoni, or drowned in cheese. Take your pick."

Laughing, you approached, your finger tracing the edge of the closest box. "Always one step ahead, aren't you?"

Rafe pulled you closer, warmth radiating from him. "Well, yeah. Gotta keep my girl happy and fed,” his voice husky as he leaned in for a kiss.

After devouring slice after slice and transitioning from the kitchen to the cozy ambiance of the living room, you and Rafe settled in, surrounded by plush cushions and the soft glow of the floor lamps. As conversations ebbed and flowed Rafe's gaze followed yours, landing on the Steinway.

"Do you want to play something?" Rafe asked lips curling into a small smile.

"Oh no you don't.” you said with a shake of your head. “I'm not falling for that, again.”

Rafe leaned in, his grin widening. "What do you mean?" he prodded, matching your playful tone.

"Every time I play, we end up..." You left the sentence hanging, heat creeping up your neck.

Rafe leaned in closer, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "We end up doing what?" he asked with faux innocence.

You gave him a knowing look, your eyes saying everything that words didn't need to. Really, Rafe?

"I like when you play." he said slowly with a shrug.

"I know you do... a little too much," you replied, your voice laced with humor and a touch of fond exasperation.

“Alright, don’t play.” He said with a sly smile as he patted the space beside him on the sofa. You found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, nestling close, the comfort of his warmth enveloping you.

Lost in a dance of gentle touches and lingering glances, Rafe pulled you closer. With each soft, deliberate kiss, the world outside faded away. His fingers toyed with the collar of your cardigan, his middle finger hooking the fabric, gently sliding it off your shoulder, as he peppered your skin with slow soft kisses.

"I think... yeah, this is the least clothing I've seen you in, not including earlier today," he murmured against your skin. "I like it. I like being able to have access to you."

As he spoke, his fingers ventured under the back of your vest, soft digits skimming upwards past your bra strap to your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His affectionate kisses stirred a profound desire within you, compelling you to cradle his face and initiate a fevered kiss of your own, a blend of lips and intertwining tongues.

"Stay," he murmured, his words a gentle plea brushing against the corner of your lips. "Stay with me," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Tonight?" you questioned quietly, a hint of uncertainty tinging your voice.

"Tonight, tomorrow, as long as you like," he shrugged, his tone revealing a deep yearning. His candidness took you aback, causing your heart to flutter.

"I have a class in the morning," you responded, your hesitation evident.

"Of course, you'd have class on a Saturday. Who takes a class on a Saturday?"

"It's for extra credit," you playfully huffed.

"I'm sure it is, you lil freak.” Rafe remarked with an amused smile as he bit down on your shoulder. You hissed in response to the sudden, sharp pain. He immediately soothed the area with his tongue, a slow and sensual gesture that had you pressing your thighs together.

"What time?" he murmured against your skin.

"Hm?" you managed to reply, your mind struggling to focus.

"What time is your class?" he repeated, his lips still dangerously close to your neck.

"Ten," you answered, regaining some semblance of coherence.

"Okay," Rafe said, his voice low and husky as he made plans. "I’ll drive you home, you grab your stuff, and then I'll take you to class…" His words trailed off as his lips grazed the soft skin of your neck once more. He paused, pulling back slightly to search your face, his gaze filled with understanding. "But it's not just about your class, is it?" There was a knowing look in his eyes, a hint that he comprehended some of your apprehension, even though it remained unspoken.

"Don't…" you began as you licked your lips. "Don't you think we might be moving a bit fast?" you whispered. The pace of things had taken a sharp turn; just yesterday, you were literally hiding from him, and today, not only had you let him finger you into a coma you now found yourself wrapped around him like a scarf, his hand exploring beneath your clothes like he owned you. It was only natural to worry that things were progressing way too rapidly, burning too brightly, and possibly destined to fizzle out just as quickly as it had started.

"Nah, I don't." Rafe drawled as his nose brushed against your shoulder, inhaling your scent. “If we were moving fast, I would have fucked you a long time ago.”

You jerked your head away, staring at him with wide eyes while Rafe smiled, clearly enjoying your worried expression.

"What?" you asked softly.

“Oh, yeah.” Rafe nodded, “In fact, I would have fucked you quite a few times by now, in every position I could think of.” he said nonchalantly. A deep chuckle escaped him as he relished your deer-in-the-headlights expression. “But I also get that all of this is new for you, so..." his fingers traced your jaw. "We’ll take it slow. Until I can't hold back any longer."

"Rafe!" you breathed, and he threw his head back with a hearty laugh.

"I'm kidding," he laughed, his eyes sweeping over your features like a tender caress. "I'm kidding."

"So if I stay over..." you began, shifting nervously in his embrace. "We’re not..."

"Nah, we won't," he assured, understanding your apprehension. “But I can't promise to keep my hands or mouth off of you. It’s only fair, right? After all the stress you’ve put me through.” He murmured.

“Stress! I give you stress-”

“So much fucking stress” You could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed them against your cheek, and you wondered if he could tell you were blushing. “Stay,” he said again, his tone resolute, treating it as the final word on the matter.

"Alright... I'll stay."

As the night wore on, the comforting cadence of your conversation intertwined with the weight of the day, gradually lulling you into a drowsy state. Feeling your eyelids grow heavy, Rafe kissed your temple softly. "Come on," he whispered, wrapping his fingers around yours and leading you up the winding stairs to his room.

Stepping into Rafe's bedroom for the first time, you were taken aback. The space was pristine, a stark contrast to the wild, chaotic tales of mayhem that accompanied him. Everything had its place, from the perfectly aligned books on his desk to the immaculately ironed shirts in his open closet.

Rummaging through his belongings for a brief moment, he emerged with an old jersey and a pair of shorts. "Here, try these” he suggested, handing them to you.

"In just one day, we've exchanged a lot of clothes” you said with a soft chuckle.

Rafe's eyes danced with mischief. "Well, if you want, I'm happy for us to ditch the clothes altogether."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you retorted, "Keep dreaming, Cameron."

His response was accompanied by a sly, teasing grin, "Oh, I already have." As he began to methodically unbutton his shirt, his captivating eyes held yours in a magnetic pull. Although you had already seen him shirtless. Tonight, the ambiance carried a different weight. There was an intimacy in the air that made your cheeks flush, causing you to divert your gaze to the wooden floor.

"I'll just… uh, freshen up before bed," you stammered, trying to find an escape from the mounting tension.

"Sure," he said, pointing towards a door on the side. "Bathroom's right there. There's a pack of toothbrush heads in the cabinet; help yourself."

"Thanks," you replied with a grateful smile, seizing the opportunity to step out just as the sound of his belt buckle being opened reached your ears.

In the dimly lit bathroom, you sank to the edge of the tub, your hand pressing hard into the porcelain, feeling its cold, smooth surface beneath your fingertips.

Sharing a bed with Rafe wasn’t just a simple act of two people sleeping side-by-side. It symbolized a budding intimacy, a fragile trust slowly unfurling between the two of you. And yet, the weight of his weird phone call pressed heavily on your chest. Could you really trust someone whose life seemed tangled in webs of secrets, lurking just beneath the surface? Could you willingly let yourself be drawn into his world, knowing full well it could be dangerous?

Biting your lip, you pushed those turbulent thoughts to the back of your mind, you changed into the clothes he had lent you and brushed your teeth. After a lingering glance in the mirror, searching for some kind of assurance, and taking a deep, steadying breath, you braced yourself for the night ahead and headed back to the bedroom.

Rafe was already cozied up in bed, the soft light from his phone casting a glow on his face. He had changed into a pyjama pants his chest bare.

"I haven't even left the room for two minutes and you're already sliding into some girl's DMs?" you teased.

As Rafe met your gaze, warmth filled his eyes as he admired your appearance, clearly liking the way you looked in his clothes. “The only DMs I'd ever slide into are yours, but I've already got the real thing." he casually remarked, his voice carrying a hint of affection.

You couldn't help but laugh, your nose scrunching up at his comment. "Damn, that's some next-level cheesiness. You're quite the cheeseball, you know that?" you teased.

A mischievous twinkle sparkled in his eyes. "Only 'cause you're a sucker for cheesy romantic gestures. That shit gets you wet." he replied with a small smirk.

Mouth agape you looked at him flabbergasted only for Rafe to downright smile his pearly white teeth on full display.

“Rafe! You really can't go five minutes without turning something sweet into something, just--" You playfully tossed a pillow at him which he caught. Pulling you to him Rafe planted a quick kiss to your lips before heading to the bathroom.

With Rafe momentarily out of sight, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The reality of sharing a bed with him was nerve-wracking. Sliding beneath the soft covers, you felt the smooth sheets against your skin, their coolness momentarily providing a reprieve from the weight of your racing thoughts.

The bed, although large and spacious, suddenly felt like a confining space. Each moment of hesitation, every heartbeat, every fleeting memory of your past interactions echoed loudly in the silence of the room. Sharing a bed with someone was always an intimate act, but with Rafe, the stakes felt higher. It was more than just physical proximity; it was about letting him into the vulnerable spaces you had never shared with anyone including your heart.

As you laid there in the soft glow of his side lamp, you tried to focus on the present. You reminded yourself that Rafe said you'll take it slow. Tonight was about simply connecting, not necessarily about taking a step further.

The bathroom door opened, and you saw Rafe's silhouette framed by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He approached the bed, his movements careful, perhaps sensing your apprehension.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

You took a deep breath, "Yeah, just...thinking."

Rafe sat down beside you, his hand gently caressing your arm. "If you're not comfortable, we can figure something else out."

You shook your head, mustering a small smile. "No, it's not that. It's just as you said... It's all new. But I want to be here. With you."

Rafe leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Alright we'll take it one step at a time, yeah?"

With that assurance, you snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace. "One step at a time" you repeated softly.

As your eyes flutter open, the silhouette before you takes shape, dominating your field of vision. Gradually, your gaze adjusts, revealing the familiar features of Rafe as you shake off the remnants of a deep dream. The surroundings come into focus bit by bit. The early hour is apparent; it's so early that the outside remains cloaked in darkness, illuminated by a luminous full moon.

You had drifted to sleep cradled in Rafe's embrace but now he's beside you. His touch is a gentle caress, his thumb tracing the smooth curve of your jaw. He regards you openly, his gaze intense enough to cause warmth to spread across your skin, prompting you to look away. You wondered how long he had been staring at you... touching you...

"What time is it?" Your voice is a soft murmur, barely breaking the tranquility of the moment.

"Four thirty"

"Can't sleep?" you asked softly.

Rafe shook his head no. "Can't sleep, either huh?" he asked his words tender.

You manage a small smile, "I think I'm just not used to sleeping in someone else's bed."

Rafe nodded in understanding. "Maybe I can help with that, hmm? It worked pretty well last time.” Gently Rafe turned your face towards him and leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart flutters as his kiss lingers, his tongue delicately exploring yours.

Sheets thrown back, your jersey inches upwards, as Rafe moves on top of you, his lips creating a scorching trail down your neck and further south. Each feather-light kiss ignites a tingle, intensifying as his tongue meets your nipple. His lips move lower, soft kisses meet your sternum while his fingers brush the edge of your shorts and underwear, prompting your hands to instinctively stop him.

"We won't go all the way," he promises in a voice thick with longing while lust blown eyes stare up at you. “I just want a taste. One little taste. I deserve it, for being patient.” His lips linger around your navel, and you grant him a hesitant nod. Gently, he removed your shorts and underwear, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Despite your urge to shield yourself, Rafe, ever-so-gently, parts your legs, positioning himself in the intimate space between. His lips graze your hip, making your skin flutter. "Ever had a guy go down on you before?" His voice is an alluring mix of curiosity and yearning.

With a deep breath and a gentle shake of your head, you whispered “No”

Rafe smiles at your answer, his lips brushing your skin again. "So many firsts," he murmurs seductively.

His attention returns between your thighs, teasing and exploring, with soft kisses leading to your mound. His head drops lower and he slowly swipes his tongue over your clit. The sensation is a mix of ticklish delight and sinful pleasure prompting a soft gasp from your lips.

Rafe licks you slowly, teasingly, humming in approval with every wet swipe of his tongue. The swirl of his tongue between your folds begins to overwhelm you, and you try to pull away only for Rafe to firmly yank you back, his grasp keeping you anchored to him and your legs spread.

His tongue stops its gentle caressing and probes deeper, his lips nestling against your sex while his tongue hungrily delves within.

“Ooh—” you whimpered, tremors shooting throughout your body with each stroke of his tongue. His enthusiasm grows as he drinks in your reactions, his own moans blending with yours in a symphony of pleasure.

“Too much- too much- ah-” you squirm when his tongue began to flick at your clit.

Pulling away from your wet centre Rafe licked and sucked on your inner thigh. “No- you’re fine.” Rafe commanded, his determined gaze pinning you in place. “You’re fine. Just relax...”

He guides your hand to his buzzcut and as your fingers move hesitantly over his head, he returned to lapping skilfully at your pussy.

“Oh, my god, Rafe-" you whimper, your fingers scratching at his scalp as you buck underneath him.

Wrapping his arms around your legs, Rafe continued to lick your wet centre until you’re shuddering. He pulls his head back slightly. You could see his mouth shiny with your arousal, a smile curling his lips.

“Fuck, you taste sweet. Like honey.” his voice is like gravel, raw with pent desire. “Nah, sweeter than honey...” He muses. His fingers part your soaked pussy lips exposing your swollen clit and his tongue lovingly suckles it while his fingers tease around the entrance of your tight hole.

“Ohmygod, ohplease…"

"Yeah? This what you want? Want me to finger your sweet little cunt?” he chuckled teasingly.

"Please… please…” you beg, until finally he sinks his middle finger in you. You let out a cry as he slowly worked his finger back and forth within you, stoking your walls and coaxing your orgasm to the surface.

The feel of his tongue lashing at your clit, his finger twisting deliciously, along with the unrelenting focus of his gaze, hunger blazing in his eyes, has you moaning in abandon.

Your back involuntarily bows off the bed, a strangled cry leaving your lips as your fingers curled the back of his head.

It’s glorious when you cum.

A kaleidoscope of colour appears behind your closed eyes, created by the vibrations of Rafe groaning in approval and the succulent swirl of his lips and tongue.

Rafe removed his finger and his tongue quickly replaced it, delving deep into your creaming pussy. His nose pressed against your clit as he noisily slurped and lapped at you. The explicit, wet sounds of him devouring your pussy so raw and unashamed create a beautiful symphony that fills the room.

“Holy shit ha—“ you gasped with a smile. Sudden, swipes at your clit with his tongue had you oversensitive, your hips twitching with aftershocks.

Your eyes open, landing on Rafe still positioned between your thighs. With a tenderness that belies the moment's raw passion, he places soft wet kisses on your inner thighs, grounding you in the present. The weight of what has transpired gradually dawns on you – the unexpected progression from kissing to oral, something you hadn't anticipated, let alone think you'd enjoy as much as you did washes over you.

Before you can overthink, you lean in, initiating a passionate kiss, fueled by a desperate hunger intensified by the taste of yourself on his lips.

Rafe's fervor shows no signs of waning. He pushes you back against the pillows and then crawls over you, his desire unmistakable. Bracing himself near your head, he slowly lowers his pajama pants, causing your eyes to widen as you gaze downward.

He's big.

Big, long and thick.

Suddenly, his cockiness and confidence makes perfect sense. All that big dick energy. Naturally, you find yourself yearning to feel his raw power. Want to feel him thrusting inside you. Yet amidst this desire, a sudden thought emerges—a fear that you might not be able to handle all of him. You might not be able to please him fully when the time comes.

Rafe takes your hand in his, guiding it along his already weeping cock, and you feel him tense up and take a sharp breath as your fingers make contact. Encouraged by this reaction, your other hand wanders over his body, feeling the hardness of his abdomen. Both hands exploring him curiously, hesitantly.

"Like this…" he murmurs. With his hand over your own, holding his cock, Rafe sets a pace which brings forth soft moans from his lips. He moves his hand away to watch you carry on without him, completely entranced by the sight before him. The sight of you working his thick cock.

Clear pearls of pre-cum bead at the tip as an indication of how turned on he is by your touch. Rafe leans in to kiss you passionately while taking your hand once again and leading it up to his sensitive tip.

“Right. Here," he breathes into your mouth as he tells you to focus there. Your fingers instinctively curl tightly around the mushroom tip, fisting it as you become more confident, eliciting groans from Rafe's lips.

His hand moves from your fingers, finding its way to your throat. It curls around your neck in a possessive grip, while his lips reconnect with yours. His moans escalate in intensity, his desire palpable, and his voice becomes choppy. 'Keep going... keep going... just like that, baby. Just like that...."

Closely following his gestures and facial expressions. Your gaze remains fixated on his captivating face, magnetized by the range of emotions playing across it — the awe knitting in his brows, the quickening pace of his breath, and the roped corded muscles of his neck as his body became rigid.

"Fuck....” He releases a long sigh, color creeping up his chest, throat, and cheeks. “Long strokes- long strokes…” He commands his voice cracking. You obey, your hand stroking his length from root to tip. Your fingers glide easily, lubricated by his pre-cum.

Rafe's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he muttered something inaudible, but soon they found yours again.

"I want to fuck you so bad. I’m tryin to be patient. I’m tryin, but god I want to fuck you… I need to fuck you...” His voice trailed off into a desperate whimper, deep from the very core of him. His hips swayed to the rhythm of your hand as he fucked into it, each thrust quickening in pace.

"How?" you find yourself whispering in awe, astounded by the shift in power between you. You've heard him bark orders over the phone, full of confidence and dominance, yet here he was wrecked and vulnerable just from your touch. You would be lying if you said you didn't relish your newfound power. "How would you do it, Rafe? How would you fuck me?"

Rafe stared into your eyes, cock twitching in your grasp.

"I want to watch you ride my dick... watch you scream while you squirt all over it..." His confession hangs heavy in the air as he bares all before you.

"What else, Rafe? What else do you want?" you whisper, your fingers gently circling your clit while your other hand worked his cock.

"I wanna fuck your mouth. Want to fill your soft, pretty mouth with my cum. Watch you swallow it." His fingers softly brush against your lips, his middle and index finger pressed at its entrance. Entranced, you twirl your tongue around his digits before greedily sucking them into your mouth. Rafe utters a throaty groan before removing his fingers, his lips crashing onto yours in a crude kiss.

"What else?" you moaned, rubbing your clit and stroking his cock faster.

"Want to fuck your ass," he whispered through gritted teeth. "Have you on all fours - make you fucking take it.”

"Oh god, Rafe-" you whimpered, eyes wide with shock. You’ve never had a guy talk about doing sexual things to you let alone anything so vulgar. And yet- you could feel your orgasm on the brink of flooding your senses just from his words.

“I want to fuck and fill every part of you and I know you’ll let me. I just know you will…” Rafe repeated softly, confidently, "Do you know why? Hm? Why you'll take whatever I choose to give you? Why in the end you'll let me fuck you however I want?” He whispered his eyes boring into your own. “Because you're hungry for this just as much as I am. You want me. Just as much as I want you.”

His dark words sent you spiraling into a chaotic climax. Crying out in pleasure, waves of euphoria washed over you, causing your hips to involuntarily jerk and thrust up off the bed.

In harmony with your climax, Rafe reached his own. Droplets of his thick white cum painted your bare stomach and thighs. His body trembled with pleasure, his breathing stuttered, while his throbbing cock continued to pulse in your grasp.

His moans, raw and desperate, are tinged with a clear sense of relief. It's the relief that comes from finally having his pleasure reciprocated by you, even if only through the gentle touch of your hands, and the utter bliss that this brings.

Breathless Rafe collapses back against the pillows, his hand trembling with pleasure found yours once more, and together you slowed the rhythm of your stroking, savouring the final drops of cum from his spent cock.

Exhausted but utterly content, Rafe closes his eyes for a moment. When they open again, his dilated blue pupils are fixated on you. He cracks a satisfied grin.

He doesn't take his gaze away as you observe your hand. It's covered in his cum, an indicator of his pent up desire for you. Without uttering a word, your hand moves towards your lips, and curiously, your tongue tentatively darts out, brushing against your fingertips.

The taste is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, earthy and slightly salty and yet uniquely him. You moan as your tongue continues its exploration, carefully cleaning each digit.

"Fuckkk..." Rafe groans before pulling you in for a desperate kiss.

The gentle morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating your face and the figure beside you in a soft, dappled glow. But the tranquility was abruptly interrupted by a glance at the time on your phone.

You were late.

Terribly late.

For someone who valued being on time, the day was already spiraling out of control. Scrambling into your jeans, you noticed Rafe stirring, his sleepy eyes meeting the clock, then your frenzied actions. Silently, with a steadiness you envied, he started dressing.

Your vest and cardigan from the previous night lay draped over a chair. Snatching them up, you slipped them on in a rush.

Rafe's offer to drive you to class was a godsend. Ten minutes later, freshened up and emerging from his bedroom, you expressed your gratitude with a beaming smile. As you walked past him, Rafe playfully swatted your butt, eyes twinkling with mischief. You let out a playful yelp, your laughter blending with his soft chuckle as you admonished him, promising to get him back later.

At your house, you grabbed your bag, textbook and notes in a flurry. You considered changing outfits but ditched the idea after another anxious glance at the time. It was only a two-hour class anyway and wasn’t worth the additional stress. As you darted to his truck, a realization hit – your dad was coming home today. Another night at Rafe's was certainly out of the question.

During the drive, you explained the situation to Rafe, expecting, perhaps even bracing for, a hint of disappointment. But instead, he simply nodded. Now, as the silence stretched between you, you were wrestling with the idea of revisiting the words he'd uttered last night. But decided it wasn't worth mentioning. They were merely fantasies after all—desperate things said in the heat of the moment, just to intensify the experience... Right?

As he pulled up in front of your building he leaned in to kiss you. You cut it short with an apologetic smile promising to call him later.

No sooner had you settled into your seat in class did your phone vibrate. It was a message from Rafe.

"Friend's having a party tomorrow night. Think your dad would be cool with it?"

A pause ensued as you deliberated, finally responding. "Should be. But I don't have anything to wear. Is it a bonfire type of thing?"

His reply was swift. "Don't worry about it. Shopping later. My treat."

A surge of conflicting emotions threatened to spill over as you absorbed his words, your fingers quivering slightly over the screen. "Rafe that's too generous. I can't."

But his resolution was clear even in text. "Why? You're with me. Right?"

You paused, chewing on your lip. It wasn’t lost on you what his words meant. What they implied. "Yes. But are you sure?"

He sent back a single word, filled with resolve: "Always."

—————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it. Thanks for liking, commenting and reblogging. 🧡🧡🧡 Part 4 coming soon

MASTERLIST

#18+ read #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #dark!rafe cameron #dirtytomatoedwrites #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader

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yuri-is-online · 1 year

Text

It's Not Going Away (First Years x Yuu)

The subtle, sweet scent of flowers shakes you gently awake, but to your surprise you lack the strength to move. It's like your entire body is made of lead and your throat is filled with sand. A vague memory of telling Grim you didn't feel well before... well you thought you were just taking a nap, but there's person holding your hand who would never speak to you like this if he knew you could soon wake up.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, angst brought by denial, technically sick fic? Inspired by the op to Horimiya, which can be listened to here (x). References for flower language were taken from here and here. If you like this feel free to check out my masterlist for more fic.

Rose, Great Maiden's Blush

"Seriously, what am I going to do with you?" The voice belongs to Ace, you'd recognize him anywhere, but it's strangely strained. If you had the strength to move you would slap him, but then you would need to let go of his hand. It's warm, comforting, a bit rough from basketball and tending the roses, and fills you with happiness. Ace would probably make fun of you if he knew how badly you wanted this, take away his hand with a look of disgust and stick out his tongue. "Just kidding~" That's how your dynamic has been ever since he first asked to crash on your couch, two steps forward into something more, one leap back into the safe zone. "You know I'm not always going to be around to take care of you, yeah? One of these days you are gonna go home and leave me, whose going to look out for you then?" He lets go of your hand and you want to scream for him to stay, but feel the fever settling you back into sleep. "You'll be ok, I know that. You don't need me as much as I want you to, so-" He touches your cheek, caressing it so tenderly you want to keep him there forever but he doesn't bother to finish his thought.

But by the time you are able to wake up he's long gone, the only thing suggesting it wasn't a dream a vase full of roses he's definitely going to brush off as lame. That's assuming he brought them in the first place, you have never seen these flowers in the Heartslabyul garden. Maybe you were just being too hopeful, you think to yourself as you lean your still warm hand against your painfully beating heart.

(if you do love me you will find me out)

Rose, Tea

"Hey don't you think you might be hurting the prefect?" The person holding your hand has it in a tight grip, but it isn't uncomfortable. far from it, you feel wanted, secure in someone's appreciation. That voice belongs to Ace, you think that makes the hand your holding Deuce, but he's refusing to respond verbally and confirming your suspicions. The silence fills the room for an uncomfortably long time, even for you, you're grateful when Ace decides to break it. "Deuce-"

"We're not doing this now." His grip on you hand loosens, but he still keeps it near. You can tell Deuce's fighting to keep his cool. "They ar-"

"You're always talking about the future like they'll be there." Ace snaps, careful to dull his voice but not his point. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind laughing at you two losers forever, but have you even thought about what your future will look like if they aren't there?"

"I can't. And don't act like you don't know that already." There's movement in the room, you think Ace tries to get Deuce to leave with him but he doesn't budge. He takes your hand again as the door clicks closed, moving to cradle it in both of his with such care it's hard to believe these are the same fists you've seen busting up jaws for breaking some eggs. "I'm sorry you had to hear that." he whispers, but you're unsure if he knows your awake or if he is just speaking to fill the silence "You can go back to sleep now, I'll be here when you wake up I promise." You have no choice but to take him at his word, settling into your bed and hoping you will have the courage to face each other when you wake.

(i'll remember always)

Spider Flower

There's only ever one. For his father and mother, for his grandfather and grandmother, so long as there have been wolves in the mountains they have only ever sought out one partner for the rest of their lives. But you aren't programmed like that, you said as much when the boys started gossiping about their preferences during that whole ghost bride event. "I'd like a soulmate, I just don't think I have one." And you meant it really, you were sure Jack would meet someone like him that would be perfect for him one day. So why is there a fluffy head resting next to you? Why is a tail draped over your legs, you want to believe protectively but you can't bring yourself to open your eyes and check.

"I swear it's like I'm in love with the moon." Jack grumbles into your side. "No matter how loud I howl you can't hear me and act like I'm not on your radar at all." That's not true, he's all you can think about sometimes, you just wanted to spare his feelings since it couldn't be possible for him to love you back. "Maybe I was wrong that I didn't have to worry about winning you over..." His tail wraps up closer to your waist and you try to snuggle closer into him. He'll ask you later, maybe when you wake up or maybe even later than that, but he has to ask. You might be out of reach, but that's only if he does not try. The flowers at your bedside have a specific meaning, he made sure to ask Vil for help just this once, though if the message doesn't make it through he supposes he can ask again.

(elope with me)

Alyssum

Warmth leaves your body as the person who has been holding your hand gently lets it go, setting it on your chest as he pats it and begins to hum an unfamiliar tune. The familiar shlick of a knife through an apple sets a scene you can't open your eyes to see, for someone so hot headed, Epel seems remarkably calm right now. "I wonder if it's ok for me ta look at you like this..." or maybe he wasn't. "I mean I have seen you sleeping before when I put you under my spell, but this is a bit different. Would be nicer if it was under different circumstances..." He pauses in his carving, studying you for any sign that you could be awake and poking your cheek a few times to try and wake you, pouting when you don't immediately rise. "You know I was really happy when I found my signature spell. I wanted to protect you so badly, and for so long I was convinced I couldn't. I thought if I could just get stronger, and taller I would be able to-" There's a weight next to you on the bed now, it sounds like Epel has put his head in his hands and resolved himself to stare you down until you wake up. "But I don't think you'll be around long enough for me to reach the point I wanted to before telling you anything." You manage to stir slightly, and are rewarded with startled noises from Epel that give way to disappointed relief when you realize actually getting up is just a task too much for you right now. As if he realizes this, Epel reaches out to squeeze your hand before returning to his apples. The strange song makes its way to his lips once more, but this time he softly gives it words.

There's a note left for you alongside the flowers, telling you to drink water and that there's a bunch of apples in your fridge that you absolutely have to eat. It's some of his best work he says and you can't help but wonder if he doesn't just mean the carving.

(worth beyond beauty)

Gladioli

“I’m not quite sure when I started to see you differently, just know I feel like a fool for my prior behavior." The letters hadn't been signed, but you had an inkling who they were from. In place of a picture every third one was accompanied by the exact same flower, you thought it was cute how well Sebek thought he was covering his tracks. It would be nice if he was the one holding your hand, but that couldn't be. He was too loud, if he was here then you would know. Even his unsigned letters were loudly and proudly him, mercifully free of praise for Malleus though they were. "You shine like dew on a rose, for your praise I go to lengths that surprise myself. Some say I am foolish, most call me single minded and in your presence I cannot protest those sentiments. Given your circumstances, it would be selfish of me to ask for your patience, but I must. I must ask for your patience until I can ask you aloud." You were content to be patient with him, if you weren't you never would have been friends in the first place. The person holding your hand gives it a final squeeze, though he pulls away slowly, trying to savor every last bit of illicit contact he can.

When you are finally able to move a familiar sort of flower around your room, once again someone is trying to be romantic and failing to cover his tracks. Once again he is refusing to face you, out of fear or shame you do not know. You gently pick at the petals, trying to divine just what it is you think Sebek wants to say, not just what you want it to mean.

(i am really sincere)

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst x yuu #look i wanted to give epel appleblossoms right #but i like the meaning of alyssum better #also sorry for making ace's part angstier than the rest i will do it again

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wickedscribbles · 21 days

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if i get too loud you can shut my mouth ch. 3

Masterlist Ch. 1, Ch. 2 The Poolverine Playlist Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: dry humping, rough/violent sex, violence (but they're into it), tenderness, dirty talk, choking, flirting, biting, enthusiastic consent, anal fingering, anal sex, creampie 😌

Word Count: 2.7K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

Getting fucked in a drying puddle of his own blood would not have been a first. It wouldn't have been a problem, either.

Wade's so eager to keep going that he just flings the sheets off regardless, pillows hitting the floor and almost knocking his lamp off the nightstand. Almost a shame to replace them; with any luck they'll end up just as messy as this first set did.

They don't say anything as Wade shuffles through his closet to fetch the spare set of bedclothes, trying not to let Logan see that it's shoved to the brim with clutter.

It all feels surreal. Like he's on the best kind of trip, everything all slow motion and floaty. Taking a ride on the Wolverine’s disco stick had always been a fantasy, sure. But now that it's about to happen, Wade has a feeling that the wet dreams won't compare.

He's fucking nervous, even with the taste of Logan's come still fresh on his tongue.

When the sheets are replaced, he slides back onto the mattress, satisfied when Logan settles himself on top with a quiet sound of want. His lips miss Wade's own the first time around, teeth nipping a little at his cheek before they're kissing again – slower this time.

It's surprising how differently Logan touches him now that they've gotten the first round out of the way. One of his hands cradles the back of Wade's head. Gentleness where it hadn't been apparent before, Logan's mouth working over his like it wants to take the time to know him. Own him.

He can also feel his lungs slowly getting crushed under the weight of Logan's metal skeleton. (Metal skeleton, what sick fuck does that to a guy? Then again, Wade has his own baggage he's not exactly willing to unpack.)

Three solid whacks to the back get Logan's attention, and as he lifts up, Wade heaves in a relieved breath.

“Scoot a bit,” he says after blinking the stars away. “I love a little breathplay as much as the next guy, but I can't be the fucked out little butt slut we both want me to be if I'm unconscious.”

“But you'd be quiet,” Logan quips back, even as he shifts his weight further so that Wade isn't taking any of it. He does, however, get the warmth, the smell of him, the consistent thump of his heartbeat.

A quick glance up reveals that Logan is grinning a little.

Wade gasps, feigning shock. Reveling in their little flirty game, even as his cock whines and begs for them to just get back to the good shit. Currently it's lodged against Logan's inner thigh, which is delicious in and of itself, but he's never been the most patient boy.

“My good sir!” He takes on a posh British accent. “Are you saying that you would desecrate me, without my complete and enthusiastic consent?”

Logan kisses him again, faster now, letting his mouth trail down to Wade's neck, and oh. He can't help but arch into that, his thoughts of sexy banter cast aside for a moment as the other man's hot breath touches his skin.

“I'm saying you're more talk than action, bub,” Logan says, his voice no louder than a whisper. Sexy and growly right in his ear now, and Wade shivers in answer, grinding his cock into Logan's leg. “I think you'd let me know if you weren't enjoying yourself. Right?”

“Right,” Wade practically moans as Logan's mouth opens, a wet sound he can feel and hear.

His tongue traces the shape of Wade's ear for just a moment before sharp canines dig into the cartilage – not sharp enough to break the skin but sharp enough to make him tilt his head back in an effort to get more.

“Fuck yeah, big guy, of course I would, I keep it safe sane and consensual – or at least consensual –”

“Ha.”

Wade's glad that he thought it was funny. He can't really think at all anymore aside from how good Logan's mouth feels as it travels back and forth on his neck.

“Fuck! S’good, really sensitive – keep going,” he hears himself slur out as Logan bites down hard.

Logan groans in answer, grinding his cock against Wade's, and it's maybe the most gratifying thing on the planet to know that this is turning him on just as much.

Something wet runs down the side of his neck, and Logan's tongue is quick to catch it, warm against his skin. Doubtless that there are endless wires crossed in Wade's brain right now, but the knowledge that Logan is biting him hard enough to break the skin and then licking at the blood that wells from the bite is pushing Wade to his fucking edge.

The a la carte is letting his hands roam Logan's (gorgeous) back and ass to their heart's content, and it only seems to spur him on. Every deep press of their hips together becomes just as hungry as when they'd done it against the wall, building and building until Wade starts to recognize that undeniable pressure. He really could come like this, again – ad infinitum, really.

The bed protests underneath them, squeaking and groaning like it wants to collapse. Logan ignores it, dragging his teeth across Wade's sensitive collarbone and neck, the kisses becoming more quick and frantic as he clearly gets close to finishing again too.

“Fuck – Red, you feel – so good,” he manages. “Wanna – make a mess of you.”

Wade isn't sure what's turning him on more; feeling their dicks rubbing together in a mix of sweat and neediness, or the way Logan's breath now comes in shallow pants, his composure peeling away again.

(Is it bad to secretly hope he gets speared through again? Yeah. Probably, yeah.)

“Would feel better if you fucked me,” Wade answers, leaving any and all inhibitions behind. No point in being shy now, is there?

He doubles down when he hears Logan's breath catch, one hip hitching to press deeper into Wade's thigh.

“Logan, god, fuck me, please, get the fuck inside me –”

Logan pulls back to look at him, eyes intense and passionate. Searching his face but full of sexual desire. God, this is just like The Notebook.

“Where's your, uh –?”

“I don't want it.”

The look lingers for only a few seconds before Logan nods. Trusting him to be able to take it. Instead of protesting further about lube or lack thereof, he takes the time to strip out of the rest of his clothes, dropping the flannel and tshirt to the bedroom floor.

“Wow,” Wade says with quiet reverence, turning to look at the readers. “We finally got there. The abs are out, guys. Start jerking or get your vibrators ready. It's about to be a 9.5 on the Wet Pussy Scale.”

One hand slides up his bare ass. “Pretty sure that's not what we're working with here.”

“It can be wh–atever you want it to be, sweetheart.”

Wade jumps a little as two rough, thick fingers swirl around his hole, pressing in ever so slightly. Logan peers up at him from between his spread legs, gauging his reaction with the gentlest look of concentration and need on his face.

It stirs something in Wade that he can't quite name, or more accurately won't. All he knows is that the way Logan is looking at him feels more vulnerable than having fingers pressed into his ass, and at this very specific moment in time he knows which he'd prefer over the other. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about what this’ll mean – he only wants to know how it’ll feel. Later, they can talk it all out.

At least, he hopes.

It's delicate work, for a time. Nothing makes a sound except the way they move together, Wade’s breath hitching as Logan presses in deeper, experimenting with reactions to shallow thrusts.

“You’re quiet,” Logan comments. “Give me something to go off of, Mouth. What do you want? More? Less?”

Shit, he’s right. Very OOC of him.

“It’s been a minute since I’ve been the glove and not the hand is all.” Wade wriggles a little, getting flatter on the mattress, breath hitching as the movement presses Logan’s fingers deeper inside him. “Nine times out of ten, I’m pitching. But it – fuck! – feels great, peanut, you’re doing great –”

Those were the magic words Logan was looking for. With a pleased hum, he curls his fingers deep into Wade’s ass, a full push that has Wade curling his toes. The sting is just an afterthought as he focuses on the very deliberate way Logan pulls out, then pushes right back in again, setting a rhythm that he’s pressing himself up into without even fully realizing at first.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Wade pants. “More of that, just, if you – hah – go a little higher –”

Panting every bit as fast as Wade is, Logan adjusts in a heartbeat, nailing that spot, making Wade cry out in a way that can only be described as slutty. He feels teeth dig into his knee, warm breath and lips and kisses, eager on the skin they can reach. A glance down reveals those mussed cowlicks he’s wanted to run his fingers through for months now, Logan’s forehead, his eyes laser focused on the way Wade’s body is taking him. As if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen, the most important view.

Marvel H. Christ.

“If you don’t fuck me within the next five minutes, then please stab me through the head so I can forget how bad I need this for a second while my brain regenerates.”

A quiet scoff of a laugh. “If you’re ready, then I’m ready.”

“Buddy, a glory hole couldn’t be more ready than me right now.”

Logan rises over him like a wave, their naked bodies flush. Wade can feel the head of his cock right at his hole – he hooks a leg over Logan’s waist, and the clue is taken.

Wade gazes up at him as Logan works his way in, and though Logan’s concentration is on easing inside him, Wade can only stare dumbly at the other man’s face like nothing else exists. Like everything has narrowed down to a fine point until there’s only this sensation.

If Logan had felt big in his mouth, then he definitely feels big in Wade’s ass. The stretch is slow, deliberate, though it’s clear from the downright pornographic look on Logan’s face that he wants to push in and just fucking have him. What was it he’d said? Make a mess of him.

Even though he’s ninety-nine point-six-eight percent sure that his mouth is hanging open like a goddamned idiot, Wade can’t bring himself to move. Because Logan’s hips are touching the curve of his bare ass as he bottoms out, and he’s making the most gorgeous face Wade thinks he’s ever seen in his life. Shit, he’s half-sure he could come just from looking at the man.

“Gonna move now,” Logan tells him, reaching to brush his thumb over Wade’s cheek. So fucking sweet, in the midst of what they're about to do.

“You better.”

He had hoped the reply would come out confident, but they both know it sounds punched out and breathless.

Still watching him with that same mix of need and openness, Logan rolls his hips in one long, slow, agonizing motion. Then again, again, again, and by some miracle, he’s being fucked deep and gentle.

They both moan at the same time, the sound low in Logan’s throat as his eyes flutter shut.

“Wade,” he says, and something about hearing the single syllable of his name from the man’s mouth has Wade thrusting back, needing more, now.

“That is, unfortunately, my name,” comes Wade’s answer, trying and failing to find something wittier to say back. His mind is on fire with all the feel-good chemicals, body on autopilot, everything going into the rhythm he and Logan are setting together. “Bestowed upon me. By my mother. In the – f-fuck – yearofourlordnineteeneightysi–”

Then Logan’s hand travels smoothly back down to his throat, threatening to squeeze, and Wade’s cock jerks hard against his stomach.

Huffing out another quiet laugh – a thousand times hotter when he’s balls deep, fucking Wade with some freakish reserves of control – Logan smirks down at him.

“This how you want it?”

The grip tightens. Tighter, tighter, until Wade can’t draw in a breath. Logan keeps him there for a few floaty seconds, spots forming in his vision, before releasing him again.

“How I need it,” Wade gasps when he can. “Harder. Meaner, you know I can take it.”

“Oh, you want mean?” He raises an eyebrow at that, the cute little smirk widening into a wolfish grin. “I think I can manage that.”

Fuck yeah you can, Wade wants to quip back, but he never gets the words out. He's being maneuvered so that his knee dangles over Logan's shoulder, opened wider as Logan thrusts in harder. Deeper. Desperate nails dig into Wade's skin, and again part of him wonders if he's about to see this big kitty's claws.

With some sort of sound between a whine and a growl, Logan lays into him like he couldn't possibly hold himself back a second longer.

“Oh, fuck, Wade.”

Thank whatever deity is watching over them right now that he doesn't live with Blind Al anymore, because this would not have gone over well. The mattress is practically howling its complaints now, the frame threatening to buckle underneath them as Wade gets fucked hard enough to punch the air from his lungs with every thrust.

It doesn’t take long for it to finally throw in the towel. One of the bedframe’s spindly legs gives out with a screech, pitching them to the side. Neither of them stops to give a damn, though Dogpool barks once from the living room in what can only be described as mild concern.

Hand trembling, Wade reaches for his cock, unable to stand it anymore. He has to come, now. Logan notices immediately and slaps his hand away.

“Yeah, no. That’s my job.”

He replaces Wade’s fingers with his own, the grip tight. The stern rhythm makes Wade whine, boneless. Judging from the evidence he’d gathered not long before this, Logan’s right on the brink of coming again. Cocaine’s starting to look like powdered sugar compared to the way he looks when he’s right there, fighting not to be loud, wrenching his hips for all he’s worth, pupils blown out and, and –

“Oh, shit, oh for fuck’s fucking sake, peanut –!”

Wade is half-aware that he’s saying something. More aware that it’s complete nonsense. Very, very cognizant of the orgasm tearing its way up and out of his dick, coating Logan’s hand and beautiful skin. Logan moans with him, a soft sound that betrays his need all the same, and tilts his head back just as he presses deep into Wade one last time.

God, he can feel it. Logan absolutely fills him with come, chest heaving and thighs trembling, like some symbol of eroticism and beauty made just for Wade to stare at. The soft little gasps and growls that follow in the aftershocks make Wade want to flip him over and fuck him senseless for hours. Days. The rest of his life.

But Logan slowly pulls out of him, blinking back to himself. Come leaks out of Wade’s hole as he does–kind of unavoidable with how stretched and loose he is–but Wade can’t bring himself to care. Another set of sheets to wash is worth what they’ve done, he thinks.

“Five…fucking…stars,” Wade says as they untangle from each other. (His face hurts. He soon realizes it’s because he’s beaming like a lesbian at a women’s soccer match.) “I mean, bravo, sweetheart, Jesus. I’m not gonna lie – I thought I had you pegged as a power bottom – but we love a man with range.”

Giving a vague sort of hum in response, Logan’s already on his feet, hand on the bedroom doorknob.

Even though Wade’s brain is fast and his mouth is faster, Logan slips away before he can get out another word, leaving him alone with a soft click of the closing door.

#poolverine #deadpool x wolverine #deadpool x wolverine fic #deadpool x wolverine smut #poolverine smut #deadclaws #logan howlett x wade wilson #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool fic #wolverine fic

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beatrixstonehill2 · 1 month

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"Out on a date with my boss and he just told me he wants to give me a really good raise.... with a catch. I've been his secretary for two years and yeah, he's kind of eccentric but I like working for him. I don't mind the groping, and what secretary doesn't suck his boss's cock from time to time? Don't worry, he didn't rape me or anything yet, these aren't his kids. I was just raised not to believe in protection so I've been pregnant since high school. I'm used to it. 22 and I'll have fourteen kids after I give birth to these triplets. Not bad, if I do say so myself! My friends are jealous of how I always get knocked up with multiples. What can I say? Breeding's my calling.

Anyway.... my boss and I were enjoying a date, not uncommon for us. When he told me he wants to almost double my pay. I didn't even believe him I was so floored. He then told me the catch. He wants me to have my arms and legs amputated. He told me he's really good friends with a surgeon and he can have them off tonight. Like we go right from here to his friend's house, his wife is an anesthesiologist, and boom, in like two hours I'll be limbless. I can't really think of a reason not to do it. I could use the money and everything I do at work I could do using ocular software, which my boss installed on my work PC and conveniently trained me on already. He even passes my desk sometimes and tells me not to be afraid to use the ocular software, that I should get comfortable using it.....

As for getting around, I think learning to use a wheelchair could be fun, and with all the new money I could hire a chauffeur! Plus my friends and family would gladly help out if they learned I lost my limbs. I'll just tell them all these pregnancies caused my womb to press against my spine and cause nerve damage or something! They'll understand. And I think I'll look sexy with no arms and legs, don't you? I bet if I had trouble keeping guys off me before it's about to get way harder now. My pussy and ass are about to take the pounding of their lives. I can't wait to see how the guys at the club and bar I frequent react to seeing my get wheeled around, my big belly full of kids sticking out like the perfect invitation to take my helpless body and fuck my brains out! I kinda can't wait to get this done..... is that weird? Oh well. I'm already so pregnant half the time I can barely move anyway. Oooo, now I can take really strong fertility drugs and start having really huge pregnancies. My boss would love to see me at my desk, hard at work with just a top on, no bottoms because it's too much of a hassle for whoever dresses me to get them on, with a belly full of octuplets. I'm getting wet just thinking about it! Better not keep him waiting..... bye guys! Wish me luck! ❤️"

#breeding k1nk #pregnant kink #amputee kink #quad amputee kink #surgery kink #body modification kink

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dangerpronebuddie · 4 months

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Been talking to a bunch of people about a bunch of things since that episode, and despite how mad I am, I still have hope. (Foolish? Quite possibly).

Hold onto your hoola hoops folks, this is long lol.

I'll start with the issue that affects the most characters: our beloathed bigot, Captain Gerrard. He has something against each and every one of the characters: race, gender, sexuality, what socks they wore on Thursday. This jackass hates everyone.

Judging by the still Tim shared, Ortiz had a hand in putting him in charge. It's honestly the most logical explanation since we could've easily had Hen or even Chim as captain again if push came to shove (and captain Han again could've been really interesting considering 6x14 but I digress). Regardless, he's there. And he's going to make everyone's lives misery. And no one is going to let him. He's intruding on a family. Not one of them is going to willingly stay silent. It's much more likely they'll have to hold each other back.

The one person that likely won't stick up for them? Tommy. Don't attack me yet, hear me out. We know how he was in the Begins episodes. But when he came back in 7x03 he had a dry sense of humor and an attitude that could've mixed well with the 118 (I'll admit it. I liked him in 7x03). But 7x04 emphasized not only Buck's jealousy that Eddie was spending time with Tommy, but also Tommy's jealousy of Buck and the fact he has a family at the 118 and with the Diaz boys. He has high expectations and gets pissed when they aren't met (re: expecting Buck to be completely comfortable and out for their first date just days after their kiss and then leaving him on the curb when he wasn't). He dismisses Buck's wants and concerns (not even trying for the bachelor party and then waving off Buck's worry over Bobby because his real dad's alive). That last bit, that 7x10 scene was quite deliberate.

I'm not going to get into the kink joke. That's not even an issue. But Buck was worried about his surrogate dad and wanted someone to lean on, only for Tommy to dismiss said worry and then spin it to be "woe is me" about how he didn't have that found family, or a real family. The jealousy he feels towards present day 118 keeps on being addressed. Any topic Buck discusses with him is waved off as if it means nothing. What does that mean for Gerrard being back?

Well. Tommy's "tough luck kid" attitude towards Buck isn't likely to stop. They've made no move to suggest it will. So when Buck wants to vent about how bad Gerrard is, Tommy is going to dismiss it. "I had to put up with it too, ya know." No empathy, no support, just diminishing valid worries and making Buck the butt of the joke, as always. (Side note: see a pattern? Any specific characters ring a bell... at all?)

Why does this matter? Jealousy started this relationship. Jealousy will end this relationship. Just like Abby finding herself started and ended that, Buck's job started and ended Ali, Taylor's job started and ended that, and Buck's death started and ended Nat. Jealousy (in general and involving Eddie) started BT. Catch my drift? When Tommy gets jealous that the 118 stick up for one another and support one another and when he sees Buck and Eddie lean on each other more and more, he's not going to stick around long. Will it be a confrontation? Most likely. Unless he gets the LI treatment and it happens off screen. I think it would be more fulfilling on screen and show the most growth from Buck, like the Taylor breakup did.

As for dealing with the bigot himself, he's either going to be reported, replaced, or rigor mortised. I see Bobby having to do some intense healing both physically and mentally before he returns either to work in general or as Captain (I really have no idea whether they'd basically demote him to have Gerrard or not. I don't get it pero ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯). Also, his heart stopped for 14 minutes and he just walked away?? Sure, Jan. But maybe it's a 911 miracle. Or it could be like Buck in 3x01. An injury you think is completely fine only for it to come back to haunt you. But considering Bobby mirrors Eddie, it's much more likely his mental health takes the biggest hit and gets to heal (unlike my poor Eddie. I'm still so pissed. More on that later). He also resigned. That has to be fixed. He'll probably be forced into therapy, either by the department or Athena (who should go herself and I'd be incredibly disappointed if she didn't suggest he see someone). And once that's all dealt with, he'll be back to work. How long that will take? Don't know. Whether he directly replaces Gerrard or if the jackass is already gone when he gets back? Also don't know. (Little side note that's totally unrelated: I want to see Eddie as Captain at least once. It would be interesting to see).

And then there's Ortiz, the supposed puppet master. Drama for the sake of drama. I think they just couldn't have more than two or three happy characters in a finale so they decide to traumatize the children and torture Hen and Karen as usual. I hate it. But I'm focusing on what they'll do with it. I've hated storylines before and some have been resolved, some have been dropped (for now). But what they'll do with this woman? I don't know. Will she find out Madney has Mara and go after them? I don't know. Her end goal and their plan for her is the one thing I simply cannot figure out (yet).

And the most heartbreaking and infuriating of all... My Diaz boys. I cannot begin to tell you how upset I am over that. I can't. There's so much they could've done instead and so much I hate about what they did. These boys have been fighting since day one to heal and as soon as they take a step forward, they're yanked five steps back and punished for being in pain. I cried twice yesterday talking about Chris. So I won't get into all that. My anger is not the point.

Right now, Helena is the victor. She proved herself right. Eddie is unfit, incapable, unstable. She didn't want Eddie to drag Chris down with him and Eddie has spent the entire time since she said those words preventing it. He's tried to show Chris they're enough just the two of them, that no one can tell Chris he's different, that people do stay, that running from the problem won't sto-

*Record scratch*

Yeah.

Eddie learned from experience that the Diaz way of handling everything (re: not at all) doesn't work. You can't run from the problem and expect it to go away. That's how you start piling up those boxes Frank warned him about. He knows that running doesn't work, and he (and Buck) have consistently shown Chris that staying is what matters (insert Buck's definition of love). But Helena and Ramon just showed Chris he can run from his problems.

Now, Chris is a smart kid. Like Carla said, I think he understands a lot more than we'd like him to. 7x01 broke my heart when he admitted that love didn't matter because everyone just leaves anyway. He's still in the mindset that whether or not you stay makes no difference. He's going to realize that, in fact, it does. Because the way Eddie loves him is vastly different than the way his grandparents do. And it won't take long for him to realize that. The only way Helena will see that Eddie is a good dad is if Chris confirms it.

Whether or not he and Eddie will have patched things up by the time he wants to go home is still up in the air. I think I would personally prefer to see the work they put in to repair this. I love how Eddie and Chris communicate. No matter the issue, they always talk about it eventually. It may take a little bit for them to get to that point, but when they do it's beautiful to see (the skateboard, Eddie's therapy, Chris' independence).

And speaking of communication, can they please clarify that Eddie only hugged Kim???? Everyone acted like they found them in bed together! I need that cleared up because the reactions from the others were disproportionate. (Chris I understand, but Buck implied Eddie and Kim slept together and so did the parents. Bad editing. Happened a lot this season).

As for buddie, I have no complaints on them this season at all. The communication, the openness, the vulnerability they had with each other was remarkable. We made headway this season. And now, for however long Chris is away, Eddie and Buck will only be BuckandEddie. They are the only thing each of them is allowed to have, and I'm really hoping they actually lean into that. Feelings realization on one part at the very least. What sparks it? Who knows! It could be Chris' absence making them reexamine their relationship, Tommy pointing out their bond, one of them getting hurt and the other absolutely losing it (Drown Buck 2024/ Trap Eddie 2024). (I have way more buddie specific specs but here isn't the place for them all lol). The possibilities there are endless. And I am excited for it, despite of- and in spite of- that finale.

Am I still incredibly pissed at the episode? Yeah. Was the season lackluster overall? Also yeah. Ten episodes and constantly changing plans doesn't make for a good season. But I'm still going to stay hopeful. It's a beautiful story and I'm letting them tell it, but these bonkers decisions really need to be fixed. And soon.

Anyway, if you read this I love you 🩷 (and tell me your own specs/ hopes for the next season!)

#okay #rant over #im staying hopeful #but apparently ls did something even more bizarre than this so that hope is quickly fading #oh well #time will tell #911 #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 speculation #s8 #7x10 #anti bucktommy #just in case #honestly im just trying to make myself feel better after that shit show #everything is going to be okay #right?#😭😭😭

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jellybean-supreme · 30 days

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Mark Me (Peter Hale Fanfic)

Description:

You were dying of heart failure. You were only 23. You didn't want to die. Luckily for you, a nice lady that you met offered you a cure to your sickness, but first she told you everything you had to know about becoming a wolf and the 'consequences', thr hunters. You, of course, agreed. You didn't want to die, not before falling in love.

After Talia, the nice lady you met, turned you she introduced you to the pack, and she even offered you a room in the pack house.

That's where you met him.

Peter Hale.

Talia's brother.

Make me yours

*Talia, the Hale pack alpha turned you out a few weeks ago. She had introduced you to the pack, encouraging you to find someone to stick with but you didn't feel connected with anyone except her brother Peter, but then again, he was twice your age, being 47 and all, but does that really matter?

You had a long day, listening to Talia go on and on about her son and his mate, needing a break, you went to the only place you knew.. Peter's.

You approached his penthouse door, knocking a few times as you were greeted by Peter with a smile* "hey pup, you okay?"

"Hi Petter... Sorry if I'm bothering you. I just need a break right now. Your place was one of the only places I could think of....." You say unsure of your decision to coke here.

*Peter smiled again and gently tugged your shoulder to get you to come in as he closed the door behind you* "no you're not bothering me, pup, I don't mind at all. Come relax a bit, I won't bite you. "

*he teased, gently leading you to his couch to sit down beside him*

"Thank you..." You say softly

*Peter wrapped an arm around you, keeping you against his broad chest as his cologne and sweat filled your nose. His arm had a bit of strength in it, but it also just made you feel so small in his grip*

"it's no problem, pup. What's on your mind?"

'I love the scent,'you think to yourself.

You shook your head.

"It's nothing, I just. It's all a little overwhelming, I guess. Don't get me

wrong, I'm so glad Talia turned me. But I guess I'm just finding out I could have a mate and that.

I don't know.

I was just.

Talia was telling me about her sons mate and I.

I just started thinking that if I hadn't been turned into a werewolf, would I have ever met them?

Probably not. I probably would have died before meeting them." You say sighing. You don't even know why you told Peter. It all just kinda came out. You felt like you could trust him with everything. "

Peter chuckled once you were done rambling, but it held a comforting tone to it as his chuckle vibrated through his chest, bringing a small sense of comfort*

"You don't have anything to worry about with a mate, pup. You'll know when you meet them, they'll have your wolf howling, "he reassured, his fingers gently tracing over your shoulder in a calming manner*

"What do you mean? It is already so loud. Are you saying my wolf will be louder than it is now?" You question

"I think I'm gonna die." You say dramatically.*

Peter laughed heartily and gently shook his head* "no, it won't be louder, don't worry, pup,"he said, his chest slightly rumbling in a teasing manner.

"Your wolf will feel different. It'll help and want to be with your partner and protect them from anything or anyone. You'll know when you've met your mate. "

"What so like how it is about you?" You mumble the question to yourself, not intending to say it outloud.

*Peter's ears were sensitive, hearing you quite easily as he looked down at you*

"Hm? Did you say something pup?"

*he asked, tilting his head ever so slightly as he gently tugged you closer to him, the scent of his cologne overwhelming*

"Huh? What? No? Why did you hear something? i didn't hear a thing. i think you might have a little ghost problem. I'll leave you to deal with that." You reply, running out of his house. You completely forget he was a werewolf and could have heard you.

*Peter watched you run out and couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction as he yelled after you* "You know I have werewolf hearing, right?!"

*he called out, his voice having a hint of laughter and amusement in it. He could smell your embarrassment from where he was sitting on the couch*

*Peter waited for a moment to see if you would come back, but once you didn't return, he got up and went outside to see if he could find you. Being a werewolf, after all, he could smell your scent from a mile away, following it to find you in the forest. It looked as if you were enjoying yourself.*

*He smirked and leaned against a tree watching you for a moment. He wanted to approach you but also wanted to toy with you for a moment, the wolf in him wanting to hear you whine*

*Peter's smirk grew as he watched you, his eyes trailing over your body. He could hear how frantic your heart was beating, clearly still embarrassed from your earlier reaction. Being the tease he was, he decided to toy with you a bit more, moving from behind the tree and slowly walking over to you, his footsteps silent as a mouse*

"Im so stupid. Why am i so stupid? I can't do anything right." You say sighing, as you thought of what to do.

You were to in your thoughts to notice that you weren't alone. You didn't even smell your mates scent or his presence.

*Peter silently came up from behind you, and suddenly, his arms were wrapped around your waist, and his chest gently pressed you into his body. He chuckled at how quickly your heart started racing, your wolf no doubt going crazy by him suddenly holding you. Despite his teasing personality, he was secretly enjoying how easily distracted you became around him.

"What are you doing out here, pup?"

"Hiding......." You reply softly, your voice fulled with sad, frustration, and embarrassment.

*Peter chuckled and nuzzled his head into your neck, taking a deep breath of your scent as he inhaled it deep into his nostrils*

"What are you hiding from? From me?"

*he teased, gently nipping at your neck as he held you against him, his arms having a protective yet firm grip on your waist*

You stay silent. Your face gets more flushed as he speaks and touches you.

*Peter chuckled faintly again and continued to nuzzle and nip at your neck, knowing very well the effect it had on you as he spoke lowly into your ear*

"Is that a yes? Are you trying to hide from me, pup?"

*he questioned, his voice filled with a hint of dominance and amusement as one of his hands started to gently trail down your hip*

*Peter nipped at your neck again, this time a bit harder as his hands had a firm yet gentle grip on your waist, preventing you from moving too much as his chest was gently pressed against your back*

"You know you can't exactly hide from me, pup. I can still smell you. My wolf won't allow you too"

*he teased, his voice filled with a mixture of dominance and amusement. It was clear he loved how flustered you were by his every move.

*Peter's nose gently nuzzled and caressed your neck, his hot breath against your skin as he whispered into your ear, his words filled with a hint of a possessive growl*

"I can feel your heart racing, little pup. Are you getting excited?"

*he questioned with a chuckle, his hands now trailing from your waist down to your hips, his touch firm but gentle at the same time*

*Peter's hands continued to caress and gently grope your hips as he gently pressed his body against yours from behind, his chest gently touching your back as he continued to tease you*

"I can also sense how flustered you are, pup. You're so easily flustered by me, aren't you?"

*he teased again, his voice still thick in dominance*

"Only by you....." You reply, trying to make any noises as he continues to grope at nibble you.

*Peter smirked against your neck, his body completely pressed against yours as he whispered into your ear once more*

"Does that mean you want me to continue, pup? Do you want me to keep touching and teasing you?"

*his hands squeezed at your hips as he bit your neck again, his teeth gently marking you with a few love bites*

"Mhmmm."

*Peter chuckled and gently tugged on your hips, pulling them against his as one of his hands moved to gently caress your stomach*

"You're gonna have to speak up, pup. Ask me politely. "

*he demanded, his voice still filled with a tone of dominance. He wanted to hear you begging for his touch*

"Please, please keep touching me."

*Peter's smirk grew as you responded to him, his hand gently massaging your stomach as his other hand continued to explore. He loved hearing you beg for his touch, the wolf in him wanting to completely and utterly wreck you*

"Good pup. Since you asked so nicely, I'll continue. I'm gonna have you begging for more by the end of the night."

Peter pressed himself against you from behind again, one of his thighs pushing against the top of yours as his hands continued to caress your body, his touch firm but gentle. He gently bit at your shoulder again, his teeth leaving small marks before he spoke again.

"You smell so good, pup. My wolf wants to completely and utterly destroy you. Do you want that, hm? For me to completely mark and claim you as mine?"

*Peter's hands continue to touch and caress your body, gently squeezing your hips occasionally as he continued to whisper into your ear*

"Your scent drives me crazy. It drives my wolf crazy. I just want to mark and claim you right here and now in this forest. I want to make you completely mine, pup"

"M-mmmmmh, mak-make me yours," you moan out quietly.

*Peter's eyes flash red, hearing your words and the sound of you moaning. He growls softly and pins you against a tree, pressing his body against yours from behind as he grabs your hips, pulling them against his and his wolf howling loudly in his mind*

"You don't know what you're asking of me, pup. If I mark and claim you as mine, there's no going back. You'll be mine and mine alone. My wolf won't let me let you go or be with anyone else. Do you understand that?"

"I understand. Just make me yours, please. Please, Peter. Make me yours. Mark me. Claim me. Show everyone who I belong to."

*Peter's breathing started to pick up as his grip on your hips tightened, his wolf going into a frenzy from your words. He growled lowly against your neck, his lips attaching to it as he started to leave possessive love bites all over it*

"You're mine, do you hear me, pup? You're all mine. My property. My mate. I'll mark and claim you right here and now"

*Peter's hands moved from your hips and gently ran up your stomach and down your arms, his touch firm and possessive. He continued to bite and leave love bites on your neck, wanting to mark up your skin in any way he could as he pinned you against the tree*

"Once I claim and mark you, every other wolf for miles will know you're mine. You'll be my property, completely and utterly mine. Is that what you want, pup?"

"Mmm, yes. It's all I want."

*Peter continued to leave possessive kisses on your neck, his teeth leaving bite marks as his hands continued to wander your body. He loved how willing and eager you were to give yourself to him, and his wolf was howling with ecstasy*

"You're such a good pup. So willing and eager to give yourself. I've waited so long to have you all to myself, pup. I'm gonna make you mine, once and for all"

*Peter nipped at your ear, his hands squeezing your waist as he pulled you flush against him, his body pressed against yours from behind. He could feel how heated your body was because of him alone, he could smell your desire, and wolf, oh his wolf was going insane with want*

"I can feel how riled up you are, pup. Your body and scent betraying you. You're going to be completely mine. You won't be able to sit for days"

"Mark me, please. Please. I'm begging you." You beg him, not knowing how long you can restrain yourself from jumping on him and doing to him.

*Peter's body and wolf were going into full-on frenzy mode at your desperate pleas, his senses consumed by you. He could sense how badly you were restraining yourself, and he knew he was doing the same*

"You're being such a good pup for me. Letting me mark and claim you as mine. Soon you'll have my mark and everyone will know who you belong to"

*he replied, his voice thick in dominance. He pressed you against the tree once more, his hands moving to your hips as he bit down hard on your neck, marking you as his*

The End

#peter hale #fanfic #talia hale #derek hale #x reader #peter hale x reader #make me yours #soulmates #mark me

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