#at least i think so. my eyes like- died and my hands barely obey what i say

[mysandwichranaway]

i got something half decent out of my brain!!!!

[greengoblinswifey]

hi love, i am in lovee with your writing. could you d0o a sub eddie x single mother reader, her husband died and she hasnt been with anyone til eddie. kinda age gap

well, this is gonna be long. I put my whole kaylaussy into it.

Eddie Munson x Milf!Reader

Warnings: Age gap(reader is 41, Eddie is 21) Sub!Eddie, Breeding kink, oral(m), cum eating, unprotected sex, creampie, mommy kink, praise kink, cock warming, fluff.

“God, your cooking tastes like Heaven Mrs. Y/L/N,” Eddie praised.

“I told you Eddie, call me by my maiden name or just Y/N and thank you,” you chuckled.

Eddie smiled and finished eating the rice and sushi you prepared. He decided not to go to college and scored a well paying job at the local video store so you decided to treat him. He was a nice boy, extra nice and flirty with you. You tried to tell yourself that’s just how he was and you were old enough to be his mother but fuck.

You hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Not since your husband passed. 

“Be right back,” you said, snapping out of your thoughts to the sound of your daughter crying upstairs then your son following after.

“No no, you pay me to take care of them sometimes, you rest, I’ll go deal with it,” Eddie interrupted, standing up from the table.

“Are you sure?” 

His eyes flickered down to your pouty lips then back to your eyes, “yeah, it’s fine Y/N.”

Your name rolled off his tongue so sweetly.

You smiled at him as he ran upstairs to tend to your children. While he did so, you cleared the table and threw away what you couldn’t finish. You placed the dishes and utensils in the sink and started washing.

“Here, I’ll help,” Eddie offered. You didn’t protest, you allowed him to dry the dishes and pack them away. Your hands brushed multiple times and the sheer sexual tension could be cut with a knife.

“Uh, are they asleep?” you asked.

“They are, we can have some alone time,” he smiled.

You laughed in response, thinking he was joking like he always was but he knew he was dead serious.

You sat on the couch while he placed one of his Ozzy cassettes in the cassette player. As he sat beside you, you saw his hardness. He was always at least half hard when he was around you.

“You know, I always tell my friends you’re my dream woman,” he whispered.

“Eddie, I’m twenty years older than you. There are many pretty girls your age you could get,” you chuckled, almost sounding sad.

He cupped your cheek gently, testing the waters before you melted into his touch. “I don’t care about pretty girls my age. Ever since I saw you, you were the girl I wanted. Give me a chance Y/N, the age gap be damned,” he pleaded, his brown eyes sparking, “I have a job, I can take care of you, take care of the kids. You know I sell on the side too, that can help. We can even have more kids when you’re ready. I’d do anything for you Y/N, I want this life with you.”

By now you were fighting tears. You never thought you would feel like this again but Eddie, he was something else. The age gap be damned.

You thought for a while then nodded happily and soon, he was pulling you on top of him in a lust filled kissed.  

"Mommy," he whimpered softly, making you moan into the kiss. He had one hand on your hip, making you grind on his bulge while the other cupped your cheek.

"Take me upstairs," you panted.

He almost knocked over a few of your family portraits as he took you upstairs to your room, your lips still on his.

“Get on the bed, let mommy make you feel good,” you demanded.

He eagerly obeyed, putting you down and sitting on the bed in anticipation. With your doe eyes on his, you unbuckled his pants and pulled it and his boxers down in one swift motion. He had the prettiest cock you had ever seen and after not having sex for over a year, you desperately needed him inside you. But you were focusing on his pleasure first.

Your soft hands took ahold of his cock gently, stroking it as he sucked in a breath.

“So responsive and I’ve barely touched you,” you whispered. 

You gave the leaking tip a kiss before swirling your tongue around it and collecting the precum. You spat it back on the tip then took all of him into your mouth. 

“Mommy, oh fuck, feels like fucking Heaven,” he managed to say as you took him down your throat. He wasn’t sure where he was, or if what he was experiencing was real, all he knew was that he was loving every second of it. If your mouth felt that good, imagine your pussy.

He tried his best to contain his moans, remembering your children were right down the hall.

“If you keep taking me like that, I’m gonna cum fast,” he moaned. That’s exactly what you wanted.

You sucked enough dicks to be able to take all of him in your mouth and down your throat while your hands massaged his balls. You sucked the sides then licked from the base, all the way to the tip leaking with more precum then taking his dick back into your throat.

“M-mommy, shit, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he whimpered.

You took him out of your mouth with a dramatic pop and a trail of spit following, “in my mouth.”

He held your head down and bucked his hips before letting his warm seed spurt into your mouth. He always thought you were beautiful but with a mouthful of his cum, you were an angel. And you swallowed too. An absolute goddess.

“Thank you mommy,” he panted, collapsing onto the bed.

You tossed your now wet and ruined panties aside and hovered over his hard length, your knees on either side of him. You hiked your red dress up and slowly sank down on him, both of you gasping at the new feeling.

“You’re so fucking wet mommy. You feel so good,” Eddie moaned, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Mm, you’re so big,” you praised, allowing yourself to adjust before bouncing.

He sat up and thrusted up into you before pulling your dress down to reveal your breasts and sucking on them.

“I can’t fucking wait until they’re full of milk. Gonna suck them whenever you’re full,” he panted.

“Well, make it happen,” you said.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, fuck your babies into me so my breasts can be full of milk again. Get me pregnant Eddie,” you begged.

“Fucking hell, you can’t say shit like that mommy.”

“I mean it. Fill me up Eddie. Fuck your babies into me.”

He gripped your hips bruisingly as you rode his cock and spelt your name. His eyes rolled all the way back into his head and he moaned out feeling your walls clench and pulsate around him, He’d never felt anything like it before. He’d never felt anything better.

“Oh God baby, mommy’s gonna cum, Take me there, make me cum,” 

He lifted you up and placed you on your back, his cock not leaving you. He began pounding into you, both his hands on your hips as he brought you over the edge. 

“Good boy, good job, you’re so good to me,” you moaned, as sweet release washed over you and your back arched off the bed.

He pushed your legs back to your chest, chasing his own orgasm as he fucked into you. 

“C’mon sweet boy. Cum for me, cum for your mommy. Fill me up with your babies. Fuck your babies into me. Make me a mommy again,” you cried. 

Your words brought him over the edge and you moaned in satisfaction as his warm cum filled your pussy up and slowly began to leak out of you. 

“Keep your cock inside me all night. Don’t let any of it go to waste,” you said.

He laid on the bed and pulled you on top of him, slipping his cock inside you and holding you tight. He kissed all over your exposed skin, giving you the love you never thought you would experience again.

“I can’t wait to raise these babies with you, to start this life with you. Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

[ashwhowrites]

your requests are open again! yuuupi!!! so can i? like, kas!eddie x reader, as if after the upside down reader discovers her pregnancy (she and eddie used to date), and when Eddie comes back to her he is very different, and then she has to explain to him why the swelling in her belly.., can you do a happy ending? 🥹

My amazing boyfriend explained Kas!eddie( my smart baby) to me and gave me a few options on how to write the character. I hope this is what you were looking for! I'm sorry it's a tad short

Never proofread

Swelling

Y/N was still grieving with the loss of her boyfriend, Eddie Munson. Just barely a week ago she was cradling his bloody dead body in her arms and now she's holding a positive pregnancy test. She felt herself breaking down again. She lost Eddie forever, but at least now she'll have a part of him.

As the next few months passed, she began to prepare for her son. Her belly was growing every day and the nursery was almost finished. She's been trying to enjoy her pregnancy the best that she could, but she always felt sad about doing it alone. She and Eddie dreamed of having kids once they made it out of Hawkins, but she was stuck here. She couldn't make herself leave, knowing he died here she couldn't leave him behind.

If he didn't make it out of Hawkins, she wouldn't either.

~~~

Eddie wasn't sure what happened to him. He woke up gasping for air in the middle of nowhere. Trees surrounded him along with the darkness. The ground was wet as he struggled to stand up. His body felt like it hadn't moved in years. Every bone felt like it was breaking as he moved around. His ears heard every sound, his eyes moved quickly but saw every tiny detail, and he felt so thirsty. He was trying to rank his brain for where he was, any type of hint to the past to tell him why he was here. But he couldn't remember a thing.

But his legs were taking him somewhere. It was like he was being called to a location and blindly obeying. He found himself outside a small trailer, a shadow of someone inside moving around. It was as if he could hear exactly where they were.

He wasn't sure how long he stood outside, but the shadow he was watching got bigger and then disappeared. Then the front door swung open, a girl carrying out a bag, she waddled down the stairs. She threw the bag into a tin can, looked up, and locked eyes. Eddie felt a pull towards her, his legs erasing the distance between them.

"Eddie?" She asked, in shock as she saw the love of her life standing in front of her. He looked different. He looked so pale, drained, dark spots under his eyes.....his eyes...were so dead. She felt herself reaching for him, her hand carefully touching his cheek.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked, his voice cracking like he hasn't used it in days. He recognized her. She flashed in his head over and over. Her touch felt familiar and safe.

"What happened?" She asked, moments after she dragged him inside and covered him in blankets. He stared blankly at her.

"I don't know. I woke up in the middle of nowhere and was led here. I remember you or the feeling of you. But I can't remember anything else." He explained, so she tried to explain. She talked about how they met, the gang, what happened in the upside-down, and how he died.

He tried to focus but all he could hear was two heartbeats. They were beating rapidly. Eddie zoned in on her, why did she have two heartbeats?

She was in the middle of explaining the aftermath when he spoke up, "Why is there a beating in your stomach?"

She froze mid-sentence, a small giggle leaving her lips as he stared at her stomach. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her swollen bump. His hand moved around her stomach, leaning down as he rested his head against it.

"I'm pregnant Eddie. I have our baby growing inside of me. I'm around six months." She explained, her hands working through his dirty hair.

"A baby?" Eddie smiled

"Yeah, a baby boy. I was going to name him Eddie, I didn't think I'd ever see you again." She whispered, holding back her tears as Eddie nuzzled against her stomach.

"I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere." He promised, kissing her stomach as he leaned up and pecked her lips.

"He'll be so excited to meet you." She cried, smiling as Eddie continued to stare at her stomach like a puppy.

He still didn't know what fully happened to him and he couldn't remember the details Y/N told him about. But he knew he was exactly where he needed to be.

~~~

Eddie still wasn't sure what was wrong with him, he always felt like someone or something was watching him.

He was always so thirsty, it didn't matter how much water he chugged. His throat was always dry and he felt starved.

But he tried to push it in the back of his head. Focusing on that his girlfriend's stomach was growing and she was about to pop soon.

He wasn't sure about the world still, learning the basics of things and learning everyone's name again. A kid named Dustin seemed the most pleased he was alive, talking in his ear as he told him all about who he was before his death. Steve and Nancy described what happened to him and what the upside down was. Robin told him all about Vecna.

But he read every pregnancy and baby book possible, preparing himself for the next chapter in his life. He was excited about his future, grateful he got another chance.

But at what price?

"Wake up, Kas. Wake up!"

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[hey-august]

I'll Be Your Whatever - Chapter 2

Story Description: Life is full of all sorts of characters - some who come and go, and others that stay. After propelling yourself into a lie you can't (won't) take back, a certain pirate captain may have a reason to come by more often. (Chapter 1) Word count: ~1.9k Warnings: SFW, some profanity. Buggy x afab!reader. No use of Y/N. A/N: Fake dating is one of my favorite romance tropes, but I have a few other classic tropes in mind for future chapters... Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @ane5e

The title comes from "your whatever" by lovelytheband.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Days later and you were still wallowing in the hole you dug, which had been reinforced with pity. Self-care turned into avoidance as you stayed home and indulged in unnecessary excuses.

You did leave one morning to purchase a few groceries from the corner shop, but the background chatter and voices took the forefront of your attention. A weight sat on your chest as you worried that you would have to talk about a relationship you knew nothing about. After the outing, you decided to remain inside and come up with an excavation plan. 

You passed the time by painting and completing commissions, while hoping your creative muses would help concoct a narrative that would finish off this chapter you were suffering through. Unfortunately, their jurisdiction didn’t extend that far and you were on your own.

The only story you could draft involved a recent break-up. You didn’t recall seeing the pirate clown around town often. It seemed unlikely he would show up again, so ending the relationship could explain his absence. While you wouldn’t have to continue living a fictional life, you were certain that Reeves and Bolsti would try to use this short tale to their advantage and come up with more awful one-liners that would fizzle instead of flatter.

These thoughts looped in your mind, trudging along a worn path that always ended in the same place. The monotonous thinking occupied more than half of your mind, while the remainder was used for the few activities it could manage - cooking, eating, sleeping, and painting. 

One afternoon, a series of knocks at the front door abruptly paused the repeating thoughts. You hesitated on the other side of the door. Without a peephole or nearby windows at eye level to peek through, you settled for pressing your ear against the wood to listen for clues about who was on the other side. Or at least figure out who it wasn’t.

You couldn't hear anything. No voices, no chatter, no banter. Whoever was outside rapped on the door again, managing to bang their fist on the exact opposite side of your head. The loud reverberations bounced in your skull aggressively.

Annoyed with the unintentional gift from the unsolicited visitor, you swung the door open and prepared to berate them from pulling you away from important work (leaving out that the “important work” was hiding from your problems). The angry spark died at the sight of the seafarer in front of you. You barely had a moment to register the double layer of fake smiles on his face before slamming the door shut.

“What the fuck,” you said to yourself in a hollow voice. You had been afraid that your problems would come find you, but you didn’t believe that they actually would.

“I think that’s my line,” Buggy snarked as he re-opened the door. He still wore two smiles - one that was tightlipped and forced underneath his usual painted one.

“N-no, no you shouldn’t be here. You have to go.” The words stumbled out of your mouth, as clumsy and confused as the rest of you. 

You still had a hand on the door, and while any attempts to close it were not obeyed by your body, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Not only was the pirate larger than you, he had already stepped inside.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. I even brought you flowers.”

You ignored the condescending pet name and focused on the bouquet daisies he held. They looked so out of place that you knew this was real. There was a pirate captain standing in your entryway. An entryway that felt cramped now that it was filled with his large presence. The man standing in your home had a big hat with blue tassels, ocean-colored eyes, a red nose, face paint, stubble, a long jacket, gloves, and a bundle of white daisies. Even the muses couldn’t come up with a sight like this.

“Why? What are you doing here? How did you even get here?” Although you accepted the fact that Buggy was truly in front of you, there were still too many mysteries to ignore.

Buggy rolled his eyes and pushed the flowers towards you again, their silly little heads bobbing as he motioned for you to take them. You accepted the offering, unable to ignore how nice the bouquet was. The daisies were full of life, wrapped in a bit of paper, and tied with a red ribbon.

“This is nice…did you actually buy it?”

“Sure.” Buggy’s cocky grin wasn’t enough protection against the sharp stare you threw his way. “Fine, yeah. I thought it looked nice.”

You nodded silently for a moment, looking past his scowl. A little petal stuck on his fluffy lapel caught your attention. You reached out, only for Buggy to pull away.

“It’s just a petal,” you commented, before plucking it off his coat and letting it flutter to the ground where it landed on the green carpet. “I’m surprised, you managed to get my favorite flower.”

Maybe it was because you hadn’t been outside in the fresh air for a while, but you couldn’t stop admiring the happy flowers. You turned around to grab a vase from the kitchen and Buggy followed you down the hallway. His bootsteps deepened when he stepped off the carpet and onto the wood floor.

“That probably explains why those shop people told me where you live,” he commented as his eyes drifted around.

You stopped short and the pirate plowed into you. He grabbed your shoulders, trying to keep you both from toppling over. A forceful shrug relieved his grip and you spun around. There were too many feelings and thoughts bubbling inside and your face couldn’t decide which one it wanted to emote. Shock or betrayal? Surprise? Maybe fear? Resignation? And anger, but how much?

Buggy bit his tongue. Your rolodex of emotions was the best thing he had seen all day, but laughing in your face was not part of his plan.

“They did give me a hard time. Actually, I waited outside of that damn store for hours. I thought you would show up at some point, but you didn’t. I must have looked like I got stood up.” Buggy paused and took a breath. He was trying to comfort you, not berate you. “Eventually I demanded they tell me where I could find you. Obviously they were convinced with one look at your handsome ‘boyfriend,’ or whatever, holding your favorite flowers.”

His monologue ended with a flourish of his hands, waggling eyebrows, and a laugh bursting from your mouth. There was only one store he knew you'd probably visit, so he must have been talking about Mr. Inslo or his husband. Neither of them would have given in so easily, especially if a loud, boisterous pirate stomped around the shop demanding information, like a greedy kid in a toy store. Imagining that scene unfolding in front of an innocent bystander brought tears to your eyes. Your recent isolation magnified the humor and you indulged in the levity. Satisfied with that explanation for the time being, you wiped away the joyful tears and finally made your way to the kitchen. 

Buggy leaned against the doorway, which creaked under the weight. He watched you make quick work of rehoming your flowers while periodically stifling a giggle as you replayed his story.

At first he was irked at how hard you laughed at his very true story, but the glimmer in your watery eyes and speckled flush on your cheeks smothered the small fire in Buggy's chest. Laughter is like music to a clown’s ears, after all. At one point, you locked eyes with him and it brought out another fit of wheezing laughter - one he couldn’t resist joining with a chuckle. Your infectious giddiness was becoming it’s own amusing performance.

You finally calmed down as you tied the red ribbon around the glass vase with a delicate touch. A ribbon that Buggy chose himself. The florist forced him to pick, so it wasn’t anything special, but seeing how you treated it with care made Buggy feel strange. Uncomfortable. He needed a distraction.

“The shop owner told me to drop this off,” he blurted while pulling out a very small brown package from a coat pocket.

You took the item and unwrapped it to reveal a single watercolor pan. It was a special order that you meant to pick up a few days ago, but you forgot when your self-imposed shitty solitary confinement began. Normally, new art supplies would fill your heart with glitter, but this felt like you spilt ink in your chest.

You swiped a few drops of water from the vase and rubbed your finger on the paint. It didn’t take long for the block to soak up the moisture and release some pigment. You dragged your finger along the paper the daisies came wrapped in. The color was impressive and lush, the hues swirled and shifted in the water. Buggy looked up - your eyes contained the same shimming colors but there also was excess water threatening escape.

“Wrong one?”

“No…I just meant to pick it up a few days ago.”

Buggy knew your statement was true - the shop owner told him the same thing - but you were telling a half-lie. The pirate clown was also skilled in using select phrases to hide feelings. Something else put a morose look on your face. Something related, and Buggy could guess what it was.

“Right, since you’ve been staying inside like a creepy recluse and avoiding everyone because you created a biiig fucking problem and don’t know how to get yourself out of this shit-tastic situation?” The eyes that held joyful tears not long ago now looked at Buggy with despair. 

You nodded. It was harsh, but that seems to be how he talks. And, honestly, you needed to hear it put bluntly like that. You were soft with yourself - making excuses, sugar coating your concerns, running away when you could.

“Let me help. We can make a deal and this whole problem will go away, I promise.” Buggy finally exposed the reason he came by. He hoped he didn’t screw up the plan before this point. Each beat of his heart echoed in his skull and he was beginning to worry that you could hear it too.

Instead, all you could hear was a small voice inside you which was relieved to hear what Buggy had to say. It knew that was the only reason he’d be on your doorstep and felt vindicated hearing the truth. The voice was also irrational, because it was telling you to accept his offer. If the irrational little voice was right the first time, then it’ll be right again. Clearly, the pirate wanted the treasure map you mentioned last time. He was desperate enough to buy flowers, but not to knock you out and ransack your home, or worse. 

And even though you knew Buggy was offering an empty promise, it gave you a glimmer of hope. If he was willing to go through all the things he did to find you - to find the map - then maybe he meant some part of it.

“Okay…yes. But there need to be rules.”

The twinkle in Buggy’s eyes flickered and his smile bordered on the edge of a grimace, but he held it in place.

“Of course,” he muttered before turning up the charm and continuing, “Of course! A contract, right? I’m sure we could work something out.” He held out a gloved hand, eager to seal the deal.

The shake of your head finally jostled Buggy’s tense grin down into an irritated glare and his body drooped with disappointment. You bit the inside of your lip, trying not to smile at how quickly the intimidating pirate captain turned into a petulant child. It seemed like he wasn’t used to getting his way, which only confirmed you were right to wait.

“Contract first, then we shake.”

[leigh-kay]

Tyler x reader where reader has actually been killing everyone as a Hyde and manipulated everyone into thinking it was Tyler. Tyler figures out it was really her and fucking rails her as revenge - @serrinaisdying (didnt know how to answer it twice lmfao) but here u go babe

.... i told u i was on it 🥂

Revenge is Best Served Rough | tyler galpin

SMUT OBVI

i am so fucking sorry for that cheesy ass title oh my god

warnings // mean!tyler, struggle for dominance lmao, dark!reader, dark!tyler, a teeny tiny smack across readers face, choking, missionary bc tyler likes to know you're looking at him as he fucks you, degrading, unprotected sex (would not reccomend), dirty talk (my fav), mention of past... encounters w xavier bc hes on my mind, p in v fr, spitting in readers mouth, biting

Her door slammed shut, causing her to jump, a gasp escaping her as she turned on her bed to acknowledge the sound.

Her eyes widened at what she saw.

"Tyler, aren't you supposed to be in a cell right about now?"

He tried his best not to laugh at her casual ask, "Not like you have any reason to fear me so why does it matter?"

"Wednesday says you're dangerous... That you're the one killing people." She scooted towards her headboard in an effort to put distance between them.

He smiled, "You're the prettiest little fucking liar there ever were."

The falsified fear in her eyes no longer lingered, her fingers releasing the grip she has on her duvet. The jig was fucking up.

"You think I'm pretty?" She grinned, patting at her bed, "Come sit, we clearly need to talk."

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"That happened before we even met, now don't be a rude guest. Sit down."

His arms crossed, but he sat. He refused to take his eyes off of her. Answers were in order.

"Why me?"

"You're mom of course. She was like me. You will be too. You havent been awoken yet. Your mother died but for some reason it didn't trigger you. You'll be transformed one day, and when you are, all that extra strength and anger and hunger will amplify and you'll be just like me. I blamed you because it made sense."

His eyes narrowed, "You blamed me for no good reason! I haven't done anything yet!"

"Yet. And I blamed you because you're young and clueless and weak."

Her head cracked the headboard as his hand grasped around her neck, closing her airways and leaving her choking on the air she couldn't call in. It made her stomach turn, and his head spin.

"You call that weak? Looks to me like you're in no position to speak." He laughed under his breath. Pun intended, he supposed.

Her own fingers twisted around his wrist, pressing her nails into his skin, cutting and digging. It called a hiss out of his teeth, but made him falter just enough to catch a breath as his grip loosened.

He was wild. Eyes black, hair messed and teeth bared. His lips were swollen, bitten to a raw point that she assumed was from Wednesdays torture methods just a few hours prior.

He looked like he wanted to rip her apart limb by limb and fuck, she hadn't been this turned on since her and Xavi snuck around secret library last semester.

"Oh? So the psycho bitch doesn't shut up unless she wants to be fucked then?"

He's closer to tranforming than she thought if he can smell her already.

She opened her mouth to speak, having his hand come across her cheek.

"Not one more word."

His hands groped at her, tearing away at her top as his lips attacked hers as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Kisses, bites, tore down her neck as she wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs, tugging his already hard cock against her core, bucking against him. The groan he let out was enough to let her relax. He at least wouldn't be a real threat to her safety until after he finished.

She'd worry about that after he fucked her senseless then. Priorities.

"Why do you kill?" He worked off her jeans.

She laughed, "I'm not allowed to talk."

He halted his motions, grabbing her by the chin, "Open." She obeyed.

She always thought if someone spit in her mouth she'd hate it. She fought the shame off of the fact it was actually the hottest thing she'd ever experienced. She swallowed with a smile on her face.

"Now, if you can open your mouth to be a slut you can open it to talk." He glared down at her, thumb running over her cheek in a manner much too soft for the mood of their situation.

"I kill because it's fun." she grasped at his shoulders and forced her weight over, straddling him as he fell under her.

"I kill because it feels good," her own mouth found his collarbones, tugging the skin between her teeth and nipping just hard enough he whined, hips bucking involuntarily.

"And i kill because they taste of their fear is amazing," her tongue ran across his neck, "not as good as you taste though."

He lifted his hips to press against her center and her eyes fluttered as he repeated the motion, bringing his hands to her hips. He used all that extra strength to force her down against him and he didn't let up until she finally gasped and lost the straightened posture she'd taken on top of him.

Lost in the feel of him against her, she hadn't noticed when he grabbed at her wrists and rolled her right back under him. Not until he stopped his attack on her lower half.

She whined before she could stop herself.

"Tyler so help-" his mouth covered hers.

"Let's try the quiet route again, yeah?"

His fingers crept into her panties, pulling them down her legs as she wiggled under him. She was desperate for friction he refused to currently give her.

"You're unbelievable. Getting me arrested to letting me use you like a goddamn toy."

He bit his way up her thighs, onto her stomach, "and I meant it when I said you were a pretty liar."

He tugged her bra down, exposing her breasts to the cold of the room and to his view.

"I think it's just because I like seeing your mascara run when you cry. Even if it's fake, those little tears of yours are just so precious you know?"

His lips closed over her nipple, pulling, the warm contrast made her sigh. Her relief was short lived as his teeth began to tug at her.

"Fuck!" she squealed, hands finding his hair and tugging right back.

"Thought I said to shut the hell up?"

"Either fuck me or kill me Galpin, choose fast or I'm choosing for us."

His eyes rolled as he ripped his pants down, taking his cock in his hand as he leaned over her.

He was bigger than expected, and thicker too. Butterflies stormed her stomach as he eyed her, looking feral.

He entered her with a single quick thrust, fucking into her with ease.

He didn't go slow and he didn't care to. She was hardly complaining. The sting was unimaginable compared to the feel of him pulling at that spot inside of her that had her clawing at his back.

It made her eyes roll as his hand refound her neck, squeezing just enough to make her gasp.

"God you're such a slut. Squeezing down on me like you need it."

She couldn't force out a snarky reply. Not when she could feel him in her stomach. She thought she might die when she saw him pushing against her, the print just visible as he fucked her.

He could see the bruises forming from the bites he'd ravaged her with, and the sight of the red staining the cheek he'd struck and he hated to admit it made his blood warm like a fire.

"Faster," she cried, eyes watering at the brutality of each thrust.

He slowed, putting more weight behind each slow drag as he pressed a hand down where his cock pushed against her pelvis.

"Can't have you calling the shots," he teased, noting her annoyance at ignoring her request.

Her stomach clenched as she forced her walls in on him, making him whine against her neck.

"Keep that up and you won't cum at all."

She huffed, bucking her hips, "Please, I'll be good, I'll tell them all the truth, please!"

"You? Be good?" he pierced each word with a thrust hard enough to make her head spin.

"I promise!" she sobbed, feeling the tightening in her core as her legs shook around him.

"So pretty when you beg too, hmm?" He ran his fingers across her clit, feather light with each touch as he pounded into her like she was less of a person and more of a toy.

She fought to keep her eyes on him as he gazed down at her, a smile gracing his lips just as he pressed harder against the bundle of nerves keeping her in tact.

"Tyler!" she yelled, teeth tearing into her bottom lip as she let go.

She saw stars, moaning and crying as it crashed down on her. It drove him crazy to watch her fall apart, driving him to pump harder, fuck her through each and every wave as it hit her.

His own composure began to break as he felt the build start to break. His hands tightened around her waist, pressing hard into her as he came, head falling back as she seemed to suck out every last drop he forced out.

He fell to her side as they caught their breath, staring at the cieling.

Before she could fully calm down, her phone was held over her face.

"You promised."

[ballxbuster]

I'd like to introduce Luciel (@mini-moonlight's !!) and Theo.

❝You don't really hate my company, do you Himeros?❞

❝No, I suppose I don't... Lupin.❞

LUCIEL is our Kenshi. He has raven coloured hair, fair, freckled skin, and the most mesmerizing blue eyes. Luciel is an enigmatic personality, to say the least. Always was. Tense and cold, Luciel never enjoyed the company of other people; Theo included. He rarely speaks about his family, but Luciel found a new family in his trustworthy group of childhood friends. He's 6 foot 5, doesn't particularly like sports (but loves to cheer Theo on) and enjoys baking as a hobby. He's one of few people that can melt down Theo's ego and turn him into a puddle ;) Theo would like to be suffocated in his chest thanks.

THEO is the Johnny of the relationship. With equally as black hair as Luciel, his eyes are as silver as the moon, and his skin tan with beautiful freckles littered all over his face, he's popular amongst men and women. He has siblings he barely gets along with, a father who only sees him as a tool, a pawn of which must obey his father's every whim (spoiler, that mfker dies). He's 6 foot exactly, athletic, flexible, and uses "bro" "dude" and "man" as nouns. All of these contribute to his ever growing ego. Oh, and he's got a mean punch. Like shit, he may be built like a stick but he's strong. Did I mention he's a werewolf?

L: What Theo is to me? Well, Theo is my sun but he's also so much more than that. He's a warm touch and a guiding hand when I cannot bring myself to be. He's a bright and playful laugh over late night cookies. He's the man with the moon reflecting in his silver eyes that stare back at me like I'm the most precious thing in his life. He's my rock, the reason I'm able to love and let myself be loved again. He's the one thing I cannot live without. Theo is my lover, mine all mine.

T: Luci is.. everything to me. At first, he was a challenge, an enemy, perhaps. But then he became my friend, my best friend. And now? I love him so much I couldn't imagine my life before meeting him. He's saved my life, on multiple occasions! *laughs* He is my soulmate, which I think is something I knew from the moment we met. He was more than just an experience, Luciel has left a permanent mark on my life.

NOW SOME FUNKY QUOTES

Theo: That was so hot, Luciel.

Luciel: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenerate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Theo: I'm so in love with you.

Theo: Your smile looks forced.

Luciel, clearly annoyed: That’s because it is.

Theo, sweating: Luciel, there’s something I need to ask you-

Luciel: Finally! You’re proposing!

Theo: How’d you know?

Luciel: Theo, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

Luciel: I even picked it up once.

Theo: Bro-

Luciel: No, no, hold up, rewind.

Luciel: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

Theo, trying to flirt with Luciel: I think both of our families suck.

Theo: running towards Luciel with open arms

Luciel: moves out of the way

Theo: Hey, why'd you move?!

Luciel: I thought you were going to attack me.

Theo: I was going to hug you!

Luciel: Why would you hug me?

Theo: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

Luciel: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?

Theo: It was autocorrect.

Luciel: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."?

Theo: ....Yes.

Luciel: Is something burning?

Theo, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

Luciel: Theo, the toaster is literally on fire.

Theo: We have a problem.

Luciel: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

guess whos the top and whos the bottom lol

-> I may reblog with headcanons at a later date!

also gonna tag @euphoricbi and @shinshoyu

[zoeykallus]

Fives – Soldier Boy 20 – A Stranger In My Skin

Angst/ A Bit Of Fluff / Tension

____________________

What Happened Before

Soldier Boy

Part 2 - Caught In The Act

Part 3 - Tender Affection

Part 4 - Worries And Secrets

Part 5 - Welcome Back, Soldier Boy

Part 6 - I Should Have Known

Part 7 - Doing Something Stupid

Part 8 - Hot Tub

Part 9 - Seize The Night

Part 10 - We Need A Medic

Part 11 - Live To Fight Another Day

Part 12 - What Lies Ahead

Part 13 - An Unexpected Friend

Part 14 - Important News

Part 15 - The Beginning Of An Empire

Part 16 - Yoda

Part 17 - Unforgiven

Part 18 - The Depth Of Fear

Part 19 - Hope, Sorrow And Anger

A Stranger In My Skin

Weeks had passed and finally Fives' condition had stabilized. You were alone with him in a hospital room, where he should wake up any moment. Your eyes wandered over his body. He had lost weight and lost energy during the time he had been in the baccta-tank. You were restless, waiting for him to finally wake up, which could happen any moment according to the medical staff. You jumped up from your chair next to his bed as Fives began to move. You're bent over him as he slowly opens his eyes, with a low moan. He looked at you, blinked, and smiled. "Good morning, Soldier Boy." His mouth opened, and he wanted to say something, but his voice didn't obey him right away. Fives cleared his throat and finally said softly in a hoarse tone, "Hey Scardy Cat. What a wonderful sight. How long was I unconscious?" You took a deep breath, thinking of the best way and words to explain the whole situation to him. "How much do you remember about what happened?" you asked. Fives thought for a moment, shook his head weakly and finally said, "Not much, we were caught off guard, an ambush, I took a hit, and it's all gone after that." Again, you took a deep breath. You felt relief that he had regained consciousness, that you could talk to him again, but you were also flooded with emotions. Your hands were shaking, and you felt tears burning in your eyes. Fives frowned and reached heavily for one of your trembling hands. He blinked in surprise at how difficult the movement was for him. "What's the matter, sweetheart? You look like you're going to start crying at any moment." "Fives, you almost died. You were in that baccta-tank for a whole three months." He looked at you uncomprehendingly. "Three months?" he asked in a croaky voice. He tried to sit up, but barely had the strength. He slumped back again and said with a sigh, "That would explain why I'm so weak." "Do you want me to help you?" you asked gently. He hesitated, actually he wanted to do it alone, he didn't want to look weak in front of you, but he knew he couldn't do it alone, at least not yet. He would rather let you help him than a stranger. So he nodded and let you help him into a sitting position, and you adjusted the bed for him so that he could lean back while sitting.

This small movement alone was so incredibly exhausting for him that he felt dizzy and Fives had to collect himself for a moment. He looked down at his own body, which was mostly covered by a blanket. "How bad is it, any permanent damage?" he wanted to know. "No. But it was a damn close call. Rex quick action saved your life," you said seriously. "Rex is okay?" You nodded and explained, "He and Ahsoka are on the trail of a possible mole, someone who betrayed you, which is how this situation came about. Since you arrived here badly injured, they keep finding leads that seem to dissolve into nothing. Whoever the traitor is in our midst, he or she is damn good" "A traitor," echoed Fives thoughtfully. He squeezed your hand very gently and looked at you. He didn't seem like himself at all, he looked so different, almost alien. Fives would need some time to regain his strength and be himself. "I can see the worry in your eyes. Don't fret so much, I'll be back on my feet sooner than you think, and we'll find this traitor before any more misfortunes happen." You ground your jaws, thinking for a moment before answering, not knowing if this was the right time. But maybe the timing was just right. "As soon as you're back on your feet, I think we should pull out of this". Fives frowned uncomprehendingly. "What do you mean?" You felt the burn of tears again and said strained, "I didn't know if you'd survive, or die, or maybe just never wake up. Waiting for you to come back from missions is torture, and now that this has happened, it will be even more so. I can't do this anymore, Fives." He looked at you, completely perplexed, surprised. "Darling" he said softly, "I'm a soldier, always have been, it's what I was born to do". Again you grind your jaws, this time frustration was involved. "You were programmed and raised to be one, Fives. Maybe it's time you found your own way." His look turned serious. "I like being a soldier, still, with or without a chip, Republic or not. I want to fight with my brothers. Don't ask me to give that up."

After another deep breath, you said somberly, "Don't ask me to watch you die." At first, Fives didn't know what to say. As you stood up, he asked, almost panicked, "Where are you going? Don't go away! Wait, darling, we need to discuss this calmly, preferably when I'm a bit better and..." "I'll get the medical staff and make sure you get food and water," you interrupted him in a low voice. As you pulled the door of the hospital room closed behind you, the first tears began to flow, your heart hammering in your chest. You heard him call your name a few times behind the closed door, then curse. You were annoyed with yourself, it hadn't been the right moment, he was still so weak, and you didn't want to argue. It was probably better to retire for a few hours before you entered the room again. However, you hated to leave him alone, especially now. You felt like a hypocrite, all this time you had been watching over him every day, day and night, and now that he was awake, you withdrew. You knew he needed you now, but you wouldn't leave him alone for long, just an hour or two to take a breath and collect yourself. Maybe even shorter. You just wanted to get this over with, the thought of him going out there again, to fight and get in danger like this, was unbearable.

Rex approached you when you had spoken to a nurse, who promised you that she would check on Fives with a doctor, and he would get everything he needed. "You're not with him?" was the first puzzled question Rex asked. "He's awake, he's more or less fine. We had a little disagreement. My fault, I should have waited to do that, he doesn't have the strength to deal with it yet. I don't want to argue with him, so I backed off for now." Rex frowned. "He just woke up and you guys were already fighting?" You sighed. "No, not fighting exactly.... it's complicated, and I don't want to discuss it with you right now" Rex suppressed an eye roll, but then nodded and said, "If you change your mind, I'm a good listener" "Thanks," you said quietly and watched him leave towards Fives room.

When Rex entered the room, Fives almost fell out of bed with excitement, but he almost looked a little disappointed. "Where is she?" was his first question. Rex smirked, "I'm glad to see you too." Fives sighed, "Sorry, we just had such a weird situation and.... somehow I'm afraid she won't come back" Rex raised his eyebrows. "She's out in the hallway, she just needs some time to herself". Fives sighed and slumped back down. "She wants me to give up the rebellion, to stop being a soldier. Can you imagine?" he said with a tired smile. Rex sat down on the chair next to the bed, folded his hands in his lap and said, "She has watched over you day and night, not only here at your bedside, but also when you were in the baccta-tank. She saw you in a very bad condition, she saw you almost die. Then she found out about the mole and insisted that you be protected day and night. Fives, she has been through a lot in the last three months, give her some time to collect herself. Try to imagine the situation the other way around. Fives' expression fell. He ran both hands over his face and finally said, "Impossible, I can't and won't imagine that, seeing her in that state would kill me." Rex nodded meaningfully. "Now we're getting closer. Listen, you're a good soldier, but you don't have to stay. I don't want you to feel obligated because of me or any of the others. You have a real life, someone who loves you, if you want to savor that, then do it, you've already done more than enough as a soldier." Fives sighed wistfully.

"I have to think about that. I love her more than anything, but I can't deny who I am. However, I am so weak right now that I feel like a stranger in my own skin. This doesn't feel like my body right now". Rex said quietly, "Get better first, then you can still think about it. Take your time, don't rush it."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi

@mybigfatspoonielife

@revan-posting

@misogirl828

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@skywantano

@chxpsi

@andyoufollowyourheart

@kaliel2310

@thebahdbitch

@ladykatakuri

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@agenteliix

@puppetswithteeth

@graciexmarvel

@greaser-wolf

@hated-by-me

@malicemercy

@echos-girlfriend

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader (From the Control 'verse)

Rating: M (no smut, but let's keep it over 18 for this fic in general)

Word Count: 700ish

Warnings: established relationship, BDSM relationship, D/s dynamics, total power exchange relationship, hurt/comfort, reader is having a bad day

A/N: IDK, I always think of Control!Marcus when I'm having a rough time. This is just a little drabble that I wrote on a business trip cuz I needed a bit of comfort, and here we are. Gif is from Graceland, because GOD i love this skinny little unhinged bastard so much

The letters on your latest case file are starting to blur together. Even when your brain is able to un-jumble the shapes into a familiar word, that word has lost all meaning. You're that tired.

This case is eating at you. There's something simple you've missed, you just know it, but the more you stare at the details, the less it makes sense. There has to be a connection. There has to be. Otherwise, you'll never solve it and recover the stolen paintings.

You flip uselessly through the pages, hoping for a miracle, but all you find is the same case details that you've read five hundred times in the span of eight hours. There has to be something, you're just too stupid to see it, you think, as desperation sinks in.

"That's enough," a soft voice interrupts your negative internal monologue, and suddenly Marcus's hands are on you, and fuck, it's like they're magic, the way your muscles seem to relax the moment you feel the weight of them resting on your shoulders.

"I... I have to--"

"You've done all you can tonight," Marcus says with finality, and although you know he's right, your first instinct is to fight--to rage against the constraint, to keep pushing your boundaries, to not quit until you're at a stopping spot.

You open your mouth, ready for an argument, but every protest dies on your lips before you can voice them. Fuck, you're tired. Instead of fighting, you slump forward in defeat with a pathetic whimper, resting your head on your arms over the loose pages of the case file.

You feel Marcus circle around the desk chair until he's crouching beside you. "Arms around my shoulders," he orders quietly, and you obey without thought, leaning into him and allowing him to take your weight as he lifts you into his arms and carries you to your bed, laying you down on the sheets.

A few overwhelmed tears find their way down your cheeks when you feel him gently removing your clothes and covering your nude form with the blankets. He reverently removes your collar, and you whimper at the feel of its comforting weight leaving your neck. You know it's not safe to sleep in, but you want it back--that gentle pressure that reminds you that you belong to someone, and oh, that someone takes such good care of his possessions.

"Go to sleep, little doll."

"But Sir--"

"Don't argue back," Marcus chastises gently. "Don't I always do what's best for you?"

You bite your lip and nod hesitantly. "Yes, Sir."

Marcus presses a soft, lingering kiss to your temple. "It'll be there in the morning. You did such a good job today, but it's time to go to bed."

You swallow past the lump in your throat and close your eyes. "You do take good care of me," you whisper, voice full of emotion. "Thank you, Sir."

"Hey," comes Marcus’s soft reply. "It's okay."

You feel the bed shift as he slides in next to you. His lips press against your forehead again in an action that could barely be called a kiss, because a kiss belies an action, an event. Marcus's lips on your skin simply are. It's a state of being, a constant comfort. His mouth rests against your brow and it causes you to burrow closer, seeking more of him.

"Why?" you whisper--a secret fear of yours. Why is he so attentive? Why does he show his love this way--through such an intense form of caring? You want to understand, sometimes, because a small, anxious part of you is still afraid that this will end, that he'll get tired of you, or at the very least get tired of loving you in this specific way.

You feel the little huff of Marcus's amusement against your forehead.

"Because you're mine," he answers simply.

You still don't understand how you got this lucky, but you nod in assent nonetheless.

"Good girl," Marcus whispers. "Keep your eyes closed for me. It's time to get some sleep."

You melt into the pillows at his praise, at his gentle command. All Marcus has to do is say the word, and you're utterly relaxed. His hand comes up to palm your cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth against your cheekbone as you surrender.

You don't remember the moment you fell asleep, but you do remember that his lips never once left your skin before you did.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

I’m just gonna post it here. With no context. There is some but I don’t feel like finishing it rn. (The context is that Uma isn’t on the Isle and the Hook siblings are running a crew together.)

Anyway. Enjoy about 750 words of the Hook sibling being mean to one another I guess.

Things are going fine, they really are. Really.

Well, fine. No one is actively dying, at least, which is about as good as it gets on the Isle.

And none of the Hook siblings are yelling at each other, which might be due to the fact that Harriet is, ehm, rather busy at the moment, and CJ is nowhere to be seen.

Harry is more or less haunting the deck of the ship, sitting at the railing of the command bridge and scaring the pirates into actually performing their tasks with his mere presence.

He is reading a book, or maybe just pretending to so he could catch the port rats slacking – one might never know with the Hook siblings. No one can tell what they’re thinking at any given moment, and they love it.

Harry smirks and taps his lips with his hook, only glancing up to tell Desiree to move it unless she wants to be scrubbing the deck for the rest of eternity, and off her own blood at that. 

He gets back to reading without checking if she obeys her command.

Next time Harry looks up, it is to greet Ginny Gothel, who just walked from the Captain’s cabin, smudged lipstick and tangled hair. Self-satisfied smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which are so dark they might be black holes. Pupils and nothing else.

She doesn‘t look him into the eyes much longer.

„So long, witch,“ he tells her, sliding of the railing and coming closer, „Ad arbitrium.“

She catches his hook before he can touch her cheek: „Fuck you, Hook,“ she says. 

The deck is silent.

„You wish,“ he answers, or maybe „Is my sister not enough?“

Maybe he said both, and maybe neither; Ginny laughs, high and wild. The wind carries the mocking sound away.

She never answers.

Harry doesn’t look after her as she leaves the ship. After all, Ginny Gothel is not his problem. He barely cares if she lives or dies.

He takes out a flask from his pocket; his rings clank on it way too loudly as he opens it. He takes a sip of the vile liquid inside.

His sister, the mighty Captain Harriet Hook of Dead Beauty, stumbles out of her cabin and immediately tears the flask out of his hands. He lets her have her drink before he pushes her away and takes <i>his</i> flask back. She can get her own alcohol, please and thank you.

Besides. 

She just saw Ginny.

„She left already?“ Harriet asks. She does <i>not</i> sound heartbroken or sad in the slightest,please and thank you. She is a Hook and they don’t have a heart, anyone could tell you.

Harry doesn’t deem it worthy of an answer anyway.

With another drink, he says: „And this is why I should be the Captain, sister dear.“

She sneers at him, grabbing the alcohol again. He will be resupplying from her personal stock.

Unsurprisingly, the taste of cheap rum does nothing to lessen her sneer.

„You, sister dearest, spend your time drunk and fucking that witch of yours, or worse yet, the Tremaine world wannabe.“

If the deck hadn’t been dead quiet and abandoned before, it certainly was now.

„You say that as if you didn’t fuck half the Isle, frater care,“ Her knuckles turn white where she holds the flask. Neat.

„And you drink as much as me.“

„Are you calling me a whore?!“ he declares in mock offence, loud enough for half the port to hear, really. 

„And I ain’t lying!“

Neither of them knows who started throwing things at this point, and the crew is too scared to tell.

Sometime during the fight, CJ comes, sneaking around them to get to her cabin; the older siblings interrupt their fight barely long enough to ask her where was she so long, and where does she think she is going?

„Why,“ the youngest Hook turns her nose up, „I’m crashing at Freddie’s now. Just getting some weapons and jewels and stuff. Eyeliner.“

„Touch my eyeliner and die–“ They both threaten at the same time, „Touch my jewels with one of your fingers and I cut off your whole hand, savvy?!“ adds Harriet.

„Geez, chill a bit. As if your stuff were Freddie’s style,“ sneers Calista, undisturbed by her older siblings, „Also, Anthony’s coming over. Just thought y’all would like to know.“

CJ cackles as her older sister pales considerably and uses the distraction to slip away from her siblings’ grip once more. Chaos cannot wait and all that.

[wiredaughter]

♡∇♡∇♡

@tropetember #7: historical au

palaeolithic ish ☆ platonic relationship ☆ abe sapien & ofc ☆ making friends w the fish man ☆ hyena pet ☆ 825 words ☆ ao3

blue

Blue. So blue I thought he was dying of cold and water when I first saw him, floating along the coastline. I'd readied my blade to spare him the suffering - and maybe make an easy meal after leaving my last tribe two nights ago, when he lashed at me, faster than most dying men could. Most living too. Teeth like a beast's, claws short but rather sharp looking. Oh, how bare I felt then, with my brittle nails and my agreeable teeth.

But I'm still the best lancer I know, and so we tumbled through the wet sand, trying our damnest to kill each other for a good while before I remembered I wasn't necessarily trying to hurt him in the first place. Figured he wouldn't believe or understand me unless I gave him a good reason to. Like putting him down with my weight on his chest knife to his throat, but my knees slid off his skin like wet seaweed, and then it was him holding me down unarmed. I wasn't necessarily trying to hurt him, but called for Hyena. After weeks trying to learn to cohabit with the tribe, she was dubious to hunt like she naturally does, but tackled him off alright. Then I looked down at my legs to see what I'd slipped on, and I understood.

Azure. The liquid was viscose, not water at all. His blood. Not blood, like any I'd seen, but I thought he'd die without it all the same. I called Hyena off, and she put her tail off at me, but obeyed all the same. She's a crossbreed and that's probably the only reason she hasn't killed me. But I'm a crossbreed too, my mother said, so I guess that's why I don't kill her. The idea that he might be a one as well gave me just enough bravado to approach him, letting my spear and axe down, hands raised. He tried to raise on his elbows, before giving up and falling flat on his back. I tried wrapping him on my cloak, thinking I could go for a swim anyway, but he gripped my wrist, asking me to take him to the water. I looked at Hyena, wondering what she made of all this. She looked at me with her dark intelligent eyes, then turn around and digged into the warm sand for a cosy nap spot.

But I lead him to the water. He relaxed at that. The tribe I travelled with four full months ago told stories of animalhumans. Maybe he's a fishman. I took the chance to look for molluscs. Hyena dislikes the fruit which constitutes our remaining food, and I knew I'd have to bribe her to carry this man back to our cave. We both held our ends: at first confused by the shells, she seemed to like them enough once I broke them open.

The fishman was pale and exhausted by the time we made it back, which only made his disappearance by next morning more worrying. Even more unexplainably, he was back when Hyena and I returned from our hunt, cleaning a fish bigger than I'd ever seen. I started a fire, which seemed to amaze him even though he ate his own with bones and all, just like Hyena the deer we took down earlier that day. I offered the fox I'd shot, but he rejected it abjectly. Alright, fishman. After our meal I skinned and salted the fox, carefully taking out the teeth which I fashioned into pendants to thank him for the fish. He was touched, he didn't wear any before, and seeing him wear mine felt like drizzle on a sunny day.

He's travelled with us since, after he retrieved his possessions from a cave I tried to reach with him but couldn't, least I died of water and air. He's got a woven basket with dirt where he says we'll have berries soon, a few blades as long as my thigh, and a pot that shimmers in the moonlight. I have my spear, axe and slingshot and a flute shaped like a snake tongue. At night I play it sometimes and he sings in a voice like I've never heard before. Sometimes he just fills his pot with water and we watch the shapes move inside.

We stay on the ground, close enough to the water. He runs and climbs and swims just like us. Eats, more like Hyena than me, but it's close enough. Last sunset I scored him a moa egg, and he was so delighted he weaved me a hand cover of sorts. He was right about his basket, sort of. There's a blade of grass growing on it, and I don't know it'll give us berries, but Hyena is leading us towards a warmer land, and I'm a good shot and he showed me how to find better molluscs, so I think we'll be fine anyway.

[decadentpostnacho]

Okay so.. I should probably be asleep right now, but I skimmed through my notes and found something. This is Tolkien-related, by the way, specifically Ainur content.

Now, I had planned to participate in Kinktober last year, just for fun. I had a schedule and a plan and all, and it seems like I even started a drabble for the first day, which I never finished because my pops died and I was really not in the mood to write smut anymore.

Alas, I found this Wip, and I thought it would be fun to share. If I find the confidence (it's hard to; the Ainur fandom may be small, but the creators are top tier which is very intimidating), I may even finish it someday, I don't know.

Enough talking; here is what I had planned for the first day of Kinktober:

Námo with 'Tease'

"You're going to regret this." Darkened eyes followed your every step as you made your way back towards him. Leaning over him, your face was only inches away from his and you answered: "I don't think so. It's only fair, that I get to take over control for once, don't you think? Now, be good and watch."

At the twitch of his brow, you could clearly see that your little remark about fairness had pushed a button, and you couldn't help but smile at how you managed to flaw his stoic facade already. Pushing yourself back up from the armrests, you turned around and made your way back to the massive bed in the middle of your shared bedroom. When you looked at him again, Námo still looked irritatingly unfazed for someone who was bound to a chair. You decided to change that, and did so by dropping your robe to pool around your bare feet. Having forgone the underlayers, you now stood before him in nothing but a few scraps of silk and lace, white as the purest, angelic innocence, but more accentuating than hiding anything beneath. A tick in his jaw, his hands gripping the armrests. You were well aware that it wouldn't cost him more than a thought to rip apart the dainty silk ribbons you used to tie him to the chair - after all, you had chosen them for this exact purpose - to see if you could rile him up enough to break loose and lose control over that aloof exterior of his. You hooked your fingers into the pretty lacey underthing and began inching it down over your hips, only for Námo to interrupt in the same commanding voice he used with his maia - and under different circumstances, with you.

"Leave it on."

Stopping for a second, you acted as if you considered obeying him, but instead shot him a teasing grin as you made quick work of stripping yourself bare.

Your back hit the soft sheets as you fell back onto the bed, shuffling backward until your head rested atop the pillows. His eyes bored into yours as you began trailing your hands over yourself, fingers dancing over your skin in unrecognisable patterns, teasing yourself, on your lips a teasing little grin. The sturdy wood of the chair squeaked when Námo gripped the armrests even harder, the muscles in his arms rippling with effort. He wanted to rip his bonds and devour you, but the need to prove to you - and himself - that he was patient enough to just sit and watch seemed to overthrow his desires. For the moment, at least.

One of your hands cupped your breast, the pad of your thumb slowly circled the hardened peak. Meanwhile, the other wandered lower to rest in between your parted legs, exposing yourself to the crisp air and the smoldering gaze of your lover.

[howlingday]

tragic backstory (tm) au) after jaune's little sister leaves it's time for the vital festival, but cinder thinks she might have to change her plans with jaune arc around, the stories about the boy are... troubling, to say the least. meanwhile neo wants to kiss that nora girl, if she knew just how much fun she could have had with writing the backstory of blondie she would have put even more crazy shit in there! oh well, better late than never!

Clashing Canon!

The city of Vale begins it's daily, or rather nightly, shift as the sun sets behind the towering skyscrapers. Children run inside for supper before going to bed, resting for another day of school. Employees of various businesses make their way from work to either home, or the local bar. Said bar owners and employees open their doors to the awaiting public, ready for the ritual of drink, pay, leave to begin.

In one of these bars, a man sips at his glass as he reads the paper. Stocks rise and fall, sports team win or lose, and politicians do what they do best; lie, cheat, and steal. He chuckled at the familiarity of the ideal. Setting down his glass, he shifts his hands to drag on his cigar, puffing smoke into the paper's most interesting story.

"Royal Line Restored?"

"Could the King of Vale's Descendants Walk Among Us?"

Roman: People will believe anything these days. All it takes is one little rumor, and people think you're the king of the world. Almost enough to make you laugh, huh, Neo?

Neo: (Filing her nails)

Roman: To be honest, I don't care if the kid actually knew my sister. I didn't know she was dead until last week, and I still don't care!

Neo: (Raises her brow)

Roman: Listen, last I heard from anyone in the Torchwick family, my old man died after pissing off the wrong card shark. What happened to my sister isn't any of my business.

Neo: (Rolls her eyes)

Roman: Exactly! But if playing along with this game gets us off scott free? Who am I to say no? Speaking of, did you get what I asked?

Neo: (Reaches under her, Materializes her scroll)

Roman: (Chuckles) Talk about "out of your ass!" (Neo pouts) Now, what have we learned about Jaune Arc?

Mercury: I heard he killed a Deathstalker with his bare hands.

Emerald: I heard it was two, and a Nevermore.

Mercury: Psh, yeah, ri-

Cinder: Enough! I've had to listen to these rumors incessantly since coming to this school. You don't honestly believe these stories, do you?

Mercury: Of course not, but it's still fun to listen to. The guy's as harmless as a corgi, but everyone is hyping him up like he's a god. It's hilarious!

Cinder: If you have time to listen to rumors, then you have time to listen to our plan.

Emerald: Another change, ma'am?

Cinder: Indeed. We'll have revise our approach. We can no longer trust the blueprints we gathered from Atlas, so the robot will have to be exposed a different way. More subtle, less obvious.

Mercury: Uh huh, and this has nothing to do with the rumors?

Cinder: I'll admit, there is merit to spreading rumors and using heresay. If we can get the population to believe she's not human we can break Atlas' trust with the public.

Mercury: And this has nothing to do with the rumor Jaune Arc is an Atlas battle android designed to protect Atlas, but went rogue and now thinks he's human?

Cinder: Of course not. Rumors hold no sway over my mind.

Mercury: I think the, "Eugenics in Robotics" book says differently.

Cinder: (Hides book, Blushing) D-Don't think! Obey!

Jaune: Ugh! Finally! (Falls into his bed) They're finally gone!

Nora: Aw, and I didn't get their number.

Jaune: Another good thing about today.

Pyrrha: Jaune, if you don't mind me asking, why didn't you tell us your sisters were coming?

Jaune: Because they didn't tell me until they were already on their way. Them landing at Beacon was the first time I spoke to them in months!

Ren: When was the last time?

Jaune: Uh, probably after they already left home. They moved to start their dreams as wedding planners and dress designers.

Pyrrha: Are they any good?

Jaune: I can't speak for Vi, since I don't know anything about her wedding planning outside her binder, but Indie is pretty good. Check out this dress she made my future wedding. (Shows off his wedding dress)

Pyrrha: (Blushing) Oh my... I'm sure your bride will be very happy to wear it for her big day.

Jaune: Bride? This is my dress.

Pyrrha: What?

Jaune: Yeah, it's weird, I know, but it kind of grew on me the more I thought about it, y'know? (Gets up) I gotta go to the bathroom. (Steps in, Shuts the door)

Ren: So, what's the story now, Nora?

Nora: Hush, Ren! I'm instigating...

Ren: Investigating?

Nora: That, too! Mm... Gah! I've got nothing! I can't figure out why Jaune would wear a wedding dress!

Pyrrha: It's fine, Nora. I'm certain it could be worn beautifully, even by Jaune.

Blake: (In the ceiling) It's a bit bland for a wedding dress.

Nora: GAH! CEILING CAT! Also, hi, Blake!

Blake: He says it's his wedding dress, but is that the whole truth?

Nora: Huh?

Blake: (Drops down) The Luna Tribe was notorious for many things, including their simple, yet beautiful dresses. Perhaps Jaune is nostalgic of them, and asked his sister to recreate them.

Pyrrha: The tribe that enslaved him? But why wear something from such a dark time in his life?

Blake: Do you see that band around the waist? Only the elite of the tribe was permitted to wear this.

Ren: It's spite.

Pyrrha: It's brave!

Nora: IT'S PERFECT!

Jaune: What is? Oh, hey, Blake! When did you-? (Knock, Knock, Knock) I'll get it!

Neo: (Door opens, Waves in her disguise)

Jaune: Oh, it's you!

Neo: (Flutters her eyes)

Jaune: No, I didn't forget! I just lost track of time. (Turns to his team) I'll be back, guys. Mint wanted me to show her around. I'll meet you guys at dinner. (Steps out)

Blake: Well, this plot seems to be getting more and more interesting...

[mackenzielovee]

hiiiii angel!

I have a request for rafe x reader x jj.

In which Barry uses the reader as a collateral after rafe accumulates late payments for the substances he consumed and jj steals the 25K from him. The reader has been hanging out with both boys since she has a strong connection with both. Barry has been watching them all three interact over the last month and finds the reader as the perfect way to make them pay for their mistakes. Barry confronts both boys and right when he’s aiming to shoot the reader either JJ or Rafe get in the way and take the shot instead ( you can choose who) and the other boy promises to take care of the reader and protect her from all dangers. Meanwhile the other one is bleeding himself to death while giving his life for reader. This idea was so random but I’m so obsessed!!! Please please please! I’m so excited it would mean the world to me<3

a/n: hey baby! thank you so much for this request. I actually loved writing this and i hope i did it just the way you wanted! please let me know if you enjoyed it! ily<3

Warnings: swearing, talk of drug abuse, gun play, gun fire, blood, mentions of death,

Word Count: 5.5k

my writing

protection - rafe cameron

It's a warm day out on the Cut. As you walk through the tall grass and slap away a mosquito that landed on your arm, you think about how JJ is going to want to swim once you get the boat out into the water, and you forgot your bathing suit. You hope Kie has one that she left over at John B's, maybe you could steal it.

Faintly, you hear the hum of a dirt bike as it gets closer to you, but you think nothing of it. You're holding a six pack of JJ's favorite beer in your hand, excited to get the day started. You, JJ, John B, and Sarah all planned to take the boat out for a joyride and a day on the water. Kiara's working and Pope is preparing for his scholarship interview, an excuse that made JJ call him a nerd.

You hear the bike start to approach you, so you turn to see who it is. You've never seen anyone with a bike this close to John B's house. You don't recognize the guy under the helmet, but you don't really have time, because he pulls the bike in front of you and stops, scaring the shit out of you.

"Hey there, sweetheart," you hear, and immediately know the voice of the slimy drug dealer himself.

Barry removes his helmet and smirks at you, eyeing you up and down. You look disgusted with him, not sure what he wants with you but knowing you want no part of it.

"Get out of my way, Barry," you snap.

Barry's an asshole, always has been. One of your other good friends, Rafe Cameron, buys coke from him on the regular. You've been trying to get Rafe off of it and even went so far as to see Barry to get him to stop selling to Rafe, but it didn't work out. Barry just called you 'princess' a lot and then told you he'd lose a fuck ton of money if Rafe ever gets clean.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Barry laughs, but it's sarcastic, "Are those beers up for grabs?"

You instinctively pull your occupied hand back, away from him so he can't grab it.

"No," you say, trying to side step him. He hops off his bike and walks in front of you, quickly boxing you in.

"Listen, sweetheart, it's nothing against you. But I'm gonna need you to get on the bike," Barry's voice is thick, making you swallow your anxiety.

You wonder if you screamed for JJ, would he hear you? Or would Barry rip your throat out before any noise even came out?"

"Not a chance," you reply, trying to keep yourself calm.

Barry snickers, then brings his beady eyes back up to yours. He steps closer, making you step back, until your back hits the bike and you had no way of getting away from him.

"I'm gonna say it one more time," he tells you, "And then it might have to get ugly. Get on the fuckin' bike."

Your heart is beating a mile a minute with no idea what this man wants with you or where he's taking you, but you know better than to go anywhere with him. You shake your head, sure words will fail you right now. Barry just sighs, then reaches up to his back and pulls a gun out from his pants. The beers fall from your hand to the ground, splitting open and spilling out on the ground.

"Oh, now, that's just a big waste," Barry uses the gun to point down at the beers, "Get on the goddamn bike. Now."

You don't see any other option; essentially it's live and get on the bike, or die right here, less than half a mile from John B's. You can already imagine the memorial JJ will build for you when they find out this is the spot you died in. Somehow, it comforts you. Only a little.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask him quietly as you turn to face the bike.

Barry watches as you sit down on the back of his bike, then uses the gun to slowly stroke up your bare thigh. You can smell his breath as he leans in to speak to you.

"Your boys both owe me. Big time. So, I'm taking the one thing I know they'll pay good money for," he smirks, then hands you his helmet, "Don't want you to get hurt, sweetheart."

You want to throw up every time he calls you that, but instead, you grab the helmet from him and put it on. You look back, hoping maybe, for some reason, JJ had wandered out and would just so happen to see you. All you see is trees. Barry hops on and starts up the bike, then turns back to you again.

"Now, you're supposed to hold on here," he tells you, wrapping your arms around his waist, "But if you feel so inclined to move your hand a little south of that, well, I don't mind at all."

You gag and loosen your grip on him as much as you can, not wanting to touch him any more than you have to. He starts up the bike just as his words sink into your mind. Your boys both owe me. What does that even mean?

Barry takes off, not bothering to go any slower with you. It's a pretty short ride back to his place, but feels longer to you because of how sick you feel. Every thought goes through your mind; he's taking you back here so he can kill you in private, he's going to rape you, sell you to some old Kook who will keep you in the basement. All sorts of things you think of, none of them good.

When you get back to his house, he stops the bike and you immediately jump off. So does Barry, who winds up just throwing the bike down in the grass. You throw the helmet down too, not caring if he wanted you to do that or not.

"What are you talking about?" you snap, watching Barry act surprised by your outburst, "Who owes you money? What boys? Why me?"

Barry rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then reaches over and grabs onto your wrist. You try to pull away, but his grip is firm.

"Don't fucking start that shit with me," he snaps at you, "Get in the house."

His tone scares you, and even though you know you shouldn't, you obey. You just want to know why you're here and what the hell is going on.

You walk up the stairs to the porch and sit down on the couch, the same one Rafe sits on every time he buys from Barry.

"Tell me what's going on," you say once you're seated.

Barry picks up a blunt from the table and lights it up, silently holding it out to offer you some. You shake your head and scrunch your nose up, disgusted with it. That makes Barry grin.

"Rafe owes me money," Barry states simply.

You raise your eyebrow, "So?"

Barry looks over at you, giving you the 'are you serious?' look. He sits down in the chair beside the couch, taking a long drag off his blunt before he speaks again.

"So," he says, "Did you know JJ stole 25k from my house?"

Your expression falters and your jaw drops, telling Barry you know nothing of it. That almost makes him feel guilty for scaring you so bad back there, if you were totally innocent. But he needs his money, and you're his one way ticket to it.

"JJ wouldn't do that," you say, not being able to stop the hesitation in your voice.

"Really?" Barry snickers, "Well, he did. And since both of them boys seem to be wrapped around your little finger, you and I are gonna become best friends until I get my money. Understand, sweetheart?"

You glare at him, now understanding what he wants with you.

"So, I'm just collateral," you confirm, watching Barry's lips turn up around his blunt when you speak.

"Exactly," he smiles, "Now. Do you have your phone with you, or did you drop it when you spilled my beers?"

You huff at him and roll your eyes, then lean over in your bag and pull it out of the front pocket. Barry snatches it quickly, then asks you what your code is. You tell him, knowing if he can just get the boys here fast, you won't have to be alone with him anymore.

"Should I send them a picture of you holding up a newspaper? Don't they do that in all the hostage shows on TV?" Barry laughs to himself, looking up at you for confirmation.

You shrug, not wanting to speak to him any more than you have to. Barry rolls his eyes.

"Them boys really put up with that attitude?" he snaps at you, "Goddamn, I could never. You better straighten up, honey."

You just stare at him, deciding it's best if the two of you don't speak. Barry hits send and then tucks your phone in his pocket.

"That should send those two idiots running," Barry laughs, taking another hit from his blunt and then looking over to you again, "You sure you don't wanna try this? Might help you fucking relax."

You glare at him once again and then shake your head, looking away from him. You can tell out of the corner of your eye that he stands up, but when he grabs your chin and forces you to look over at him, you gasp.

"Straighten out, or I'll do it for you," he says, then roughly releases you.

You sigh and sit back on the couch, praying that at least one of the boys will arrive soon. Barry sits back down in his seat and tries to strike up a conversation, pretending he hadn't just manhandled you.

"So, which one are you gonna choose?"

Your head snaps over as you stare at him, trying to figure out what the hell he's talking about.

"What?" you ask, your voice giving away your confusion.

"You know," Barry shrugs, "They're both, like, crazy in love with you. So, if I have to shoot one to teach the other a lesson, which one would you pick?"

You roll your eyes, "You're fucking crazy."

Barry leans forward and stares at you, blunt hanging from his lips. He slams his hand down on the table in front of you, trying to get your attention.

"They stole from me," he shouts now, "Both of them. Someone's going to fuckin' pay for that."

You just nod your head, hoping he'll just shut up now. You don't want to talk about how they stole or Barry teaching either of them a lesson. You just want to go home. You should've never been walking by yourself in the first place. Then again, you never dreamed some psycho with a gun would come along.

"I think it'll be JJ," Barry continues, "You seemed pretty bummed on Cameron when he refused to quit his shit. But, you know, take your pick. Drug addict or thief. Man, it's like the Bachelor or some shit up in here."

Your eyes roll so far back into your head that you swear you can see your brain. When you look over at him, he's still laughing at his own joke.

"They're going to pay you back, and then you're never going to see any of us again," you say confidently. Barry just laughs.

"Yeah, okay, sweetheart."

You look over form the porch when you hear a noise, then sigh with relief when you see Rafe's truck pull up. He's driving fast, too fast, and he hops out of the truck the second he gets within running range of the porch. He doesn't even bother to close the door behind him.

You try to stand and go out to him, but Barry grabs your arm and keeps you down on the couch.

"Easy," he tells you, reaching behind him and pulling out his gun. He sets it down on the table in front of him, and you take note of how his expression changes from laughing to pissed off.

Rafe runs up to the porch and swings open the door, and that's when Barry releases you. You stand and rush to him, feeling Rafe sigh in relief as he wraps his strong arms around your little body. All of your anxiety melts away as you know you're safe now. Rafe would never let anything happen to you.

"Please tell me you're okay," Rafe whispers against your head, squeezing you tight.

"I'm okay," you confirm.

He pulls back from the hug and starts checking all over your body for injuries anyway. He holds up your arms and scans those, stopping his finger over a bruise you already had. It happened on the boat with JJ.

"I'm fine," you repeat to him, laying your head back on his chest. You really just don't want him to let go of you.

"What the fuck, Barry?" Rafe yells, his voice echoing through your ear as you have your head pressed on his chest.

"Afternoon, Country Club," Barry stands and smirks, watching the way you cling to Rafe.

You don't look at him, you just close your eyes and breathe Rafe in, not wanting to remember where you are. In your mind, the two of you are hanging out and eating lunch at the club. You always love going, especially on windy days when his scent travels from across the table. You love the way he smells.

"I'd like to change my answer, sweetheart," Barry tells you, ignoring Rafe's confused glance, "I think this one might love you back, Rafe. How sweet."

Rafe instinctually tightens his arm up around you, keeping you pressed up against him.

"I swear to God," Rafe starts, "If you laid one hand on her-"

"I didn't, Jesus," Barry groans, "I wish you cared about getting me my money the same way you care about saving this bitch."

You don't react, not even slightly. You don't care what Barry thinks of you. You just never want his slimy hands to touch you. Ever again.

"She's not a bitch, man," Rafe's voice goes quiet, "And I'm going to get you your money."

Barry laughs and then pretends to cry, "Boo who, she's not a bitch. I don't care, bro. I gave you shit on two separate occasions-"

"And I gave you my bike as collateral!" Rafe shouts back.

"That piece of shit ain't worth half what you owe me," Barry spits, "Your girl liked riding on it, though."

Rafe's chest tenses against you, and then you feel him bring his hand up to stroke your hair. He's trying to keep you as relaxed as possible.

"Y/N, go wait in my truck," Rafe tells you quietly, pulling the keys out of his pocket.

"Oh, no, no," Barry smirks, reaching out and snatching the keys from Rafe, "You think you're the only person I called here?"

As if on cue, the porch door swings open again and JJ walks in. Your eyes open and you see him, his expression worse than you've ever seen him.

"You got her?" JJ points to you, but he's talking to Rafe.

Rafe just nods, tightening his grip around you again. You open your mouth to speak, but watch as JJ charges toward Barry and punches him square in the nose.

"What the fuck did you do?" JJ shouts, watching Barry tumble to the floor, "If I find out you fucking hurt her-"

Barry laughs from the floor, wiping blood from his nose, "Easy, bro. You two are so damn worried about this chick."

JJ's chest is expanding and then contracting every five seconds, telling you his adrenaline is going crazy. You know he's ready to punch him again. Barry stands and picks up his gun from the coffee table, pointing it directly at JJ. You try to push forward to stop it, but Rafe keeps his grip tight.

"Now," Barry says, spitting his blood onto the floor, "You bitches are gonna pay up."

"Barry, I'll get you your money, man," Rafe promises. When Barry moves and points the gun at Rafe, he quickly tucks you behind him. He gives you one of his hands to hold onto, while the other one goes up to stop Barry from shooting.

"Yeah, when?" Barry yells, "I told you, Cameron. It's not just me you're screwing with."

Rafe nods his head, doing his best to try and calm Barry down. JJ looks over at you, mouthing 'are you okay?'

You nod at him, your expression clearly giving you away. You're scared, and he knows it.

"I know, bro," Rafe says, "Some people still owe me from the party Friday night. I'm going to get it, I just need some time."

Barry laughs sarcastically and lowers the gun, "Oh, yeah, for sure, man. You know what, take your time, Rafe."

Rafe's expression changes, knowing Barry doesn't mean it. He just wonders what that means for getting you out of here.

"The girl stays with me until both of you are paid up," Barry tells both of them.

"Like hell," JJ mutters.

Barry, who is still pissed about his nose, turns around and hits JJ in the head with the stock of the gun. You watch JJ stumble back, and without hesitation, break from Rafe's grasp and rush over to him. Rafe reaches out to try and grab you, but his grip isn't good enough.

"JJ!" you say, grabbing onto him as he stumbles. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to help him stand.

"Shit," JJ mumbles, gripping his forehead. He pulls his fingers back and sees blood.

"Damn, darlin'," Barry grins at you, "You really do love them both."

You glare at Barry for the millionth time today as you set your arm around JJ's waist and lead him over to sit down. He sits in the chair Barry had been sitting in and you stand in between his legs, moving his hand away to see his wound.

Barry looks over at Rafe, who has his jaw clenched as he watches you stand in between JJ's legs and clean him up. He watches as JJ's hand lingers on the back of your thigh, his fingers brushing your skin ever so slightly.

"That's gotta hurt," Barry says to Rafe, getting a lot of amusement out of watching the boys squirm over you.

You ignore whatever Barry says as you use the bottom of your shirt to wipe off some of the blood on JJ's forehead. It's not bleeding badly, which you're thankful for. You're almost sure Barry doesn't own a first aid kit.

"Now, JJ," Barry steps over to you two, "Let's talk about how you stole twenty-five thousand dollars out of my house, yeah?"

Barry presses the gun to the back of JJ's neck, making JJ tense up. You watch Barry, bringing your hands to JJ's shoulders and holding onto him, as if to comfort him somehow.

"I'll get it back," JJ says, his voice hoarse.

"You bet your ass you will," Barry tells him, "When will that be, exactly?"

JJ sighs, knowing it won't be any time soon. That money is long gone.

"Can we set up a payment plan?" JJ asks sarcastically.

He regrets it when Barry grabs onto your arm and pulls you away, pressing the gun into your stomach as he holds onto you. JJ stands quickly and Rafe starts to rush over, but stops when he sees the look in Barry's eyes.

"You know, I'm getting real sick of being treated like a bitch," Barry tells them, pressing the gun into you harder, "I want my money. Now."

You let out an involuntary groan at the pain, watching Rafe as he tries to figure out what to do.

"Let her go, Barry," Rafe finally speaks, "Let her sit down and I'll go get your money."

"All of it?" Barry confirms.

Rafe nods, "All of it. Just let her sit down over there."

Barry looks at both boys, noting how pathetic they are. He's glad, though, knowing all he has to do is threaten your life to get what he wants. He just doesn't understand what's so damn special about you.

He releases your arm and shoves you in the direction of the couch, Rafe stepping forward to grab you. He pulls you into him again, leading you over to sit down.

"You all right?" he asks you, taking a seat beside you and bringing his hands up to your cheeks.

"Yes," you reply, nodding feverishly as if to try and convince him.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers as he pulls you into him.

Your breath catches in your throat as he calls you 'baby'. He's never done that before. Your mind wanders back to Barry telling you that both boys are crazy in love with you. You now sit there in Rafe's arms, wondering if Barry's right.

Rafe pulls back and looks at you in the eyes again, "Just sit right here for me, okay? I'm gonna go get the money. I'll be right back."

You nod again, silently promising him that you'll be here when he gets back. As if you could leave. He rubs the base of his thumb on your cheek and gives you a small smile, then stands up. He curses, knowing he doesn't want to leave you here.

JJ steps over to Rafe as he walks toward the door, grabbing his arm.

"Where the fuck are you gonna get twenty six thousand bucks right now, man?" JJ hisses, keeping his voice down for your sake.

"I don't know, JJ, I was thinking I'd walk into the bank and ask nicely," Rafe snaps, "I have no fucking idea. But I have to figure something out, right?"

JJ runs his hands through his hair and exhales loudly, then looks over and smiles quickly at you. Barry watches the boys, trying to figure out what's going on.

"Dude-"

"Just," Rafe starts, already annoyed with JJ, "Stay with her. I'm going to figure it out."

Rafe hates telling JJ to comfort you and be there for you, but it's the way it has to be. No way JJ could get his dirty hands on that kind of money right now. Or ever. JJ nods and starts walking over to you as Rafe thinks about how much money his dad might have in his safe right now.

"You know," Barry starts, standing up again with the gun in his hand, "I'm starting to think you don't really have my money, Country Club."

"Chill out, Barry," Rafe sighs, stepping toward the door once more. The safety of the gun being turned off is what makes Rafe stop dead in his tracks.

"Tell me the truth, Rafe," Barry says.

Rafe slowly turns around with his hands up, swallowing quickly.

"I'm going to get it," Rafe states again.

Barry shakes his head, "You're lying."

Before Rafe can process it, Barry moves the gun in your direction. He looks at you for a second, the horror on your face, and you know your body is frozen. You shut your eyes, not wanting to see it happen. At least you'll die with the boys.

The shot fires fast, but you don't feel anything. You hear a yell, then Rafe scream out, and when you open your eyes, JJ's lying on the ground. Your jaw falls open as you tumble onto the floor beside him, setting your hand on his bleeding stomach. Your hand is soaked instantly, but you don't know what else to do.

"JJ," you cry out, watching his eyes find yours, "JJ, oh, my God."

Tears fall down your face as you stare at him, his eyes glazing over. He's just watching you panic. Rafe comes over and sinks down beside you, not knowing how to help.

"Towels, Rafe," you order, "Hurry."

You spot a random shirt laying on the ground, one you're sure is Barry's and use it for the time being to soak up some of the blood.

"Hey, JJ, I'm right here," you tell him, watching your tears fall onto his shirt. They become invisible immediately, the blood stains swallowing them up.

"Are you okay?" JJ chokes out, spitting blood from his mouth onto the floor when he finishes speaking. You shake your head and try to swallow your tears, but you can't.

"I'm fine, JJ, just relax," you tell him, then look up, "Rafe!"

Rafe comes out of Barry's and onto the porch with towels in his hand, stopping only when Barry grabs onto his arm.

"I was aiming for her, remember that," Barry tells him.

Rafe just yanks his arm away and comes to you, placing one of the towels over JJ's wound.

"Rafe, what do we do?" you ask frantically, trying to ignore the blood that now seeps onto the floor.

Rafe shakes his head, having absolutely no idea what to do. He brings his hands over yours and puts more pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

"You have to call 911," you tell Rafe, "Go."

Rafe stares at you for a second, still stunned, when JJ starts to speak from the floor.

"Rafe," JJ chokes, "You gotta get her out of here, man."

"Not a chance, JJ," you say, trying your best to smile at him.

JJ looks over at Rafe again, "Rafe."

His voice is serious, and Rafe knows exactly what he's telling him. He's a goner, and he knows it. But he doesn't want you to watch him die. Rafe nods to JJ, telling him he understands. He watches JJ relax and lay his head back down, then stands up. JJ brings his hand down to yours and wraps his fingers around you. You squeeze, trying to tell him it's going to be okay.

"Go call," you remind him.

Rafe steps across JJ's body and, without speaking, tucks his arm around your waist and picks you up. He knows this won't be easy, and he can already feel his emotions coming up.

"Rafe, put me down!" you shout, your blood soaked hands going down to try and peel his arm off of you, "Rafe, stop! JJ!"

He carries you over to the door of the porch, doing his best to keep his grip tight as you fight with every ounce of strength you have.

"Let me go, Rafe! I have to help him!" you're screaming your head off, and Rafe hates it, but he knows he has to do what's best for you.

He glances back only for a second and sees JJ's shallow breathing, knowing he doesn't have much time left.

"Rafe!" you scream, kicking and thrashing around to try and get away.

"I have to make sure you're safe," Rafe tells you as the two of you reach the truck, "It's what he wants me to do."

"He's going to die!" you scream, "Let go of me! I'll never forgive you for this!"

Rafe opens the passenger door of the truck and puts you inside, using all of his strength to keep you there.

"You'll be alive, though!" Rafe raises his voice at you, making you stop. He's never yelled at you, not once.

You choke on your sobs as you see the blood all over Rafe's shirt, then all over your own. He buckles you in and closes your door, then rushes around the truck.

"Don't think this makes us even, Rafe Cameron!" Barry yells from the porch. Rafe flips Barry off and then gets into the truck, starting it and speeding off without buckling himself.

"Rafe, stop!" you yell, "I can't leave him there! He's all alone!"

"This is what he wanted!" Rafe yells back at you, stepping further down on the gas pedal.

"I don't care, I don't want him to be alone!" you cry, reaching for the door handle.

Rafe locks the doors and puts child lock on, preventing you from flinging out of the truck. You bang your fist on the window as he does, leaving a blood stain there.

"Rafe!" you look over and scream at him again.

He gets so frustrated he pulls the truck off the path and sets it in park, then turns to you. He grabs onto both of your wrists and holds them down.

"Calm the fuck down, right now," he demands, "Calm down."

You sit back in the seat and do as you're told, but your tears still fall. JJ just gave his life up to save yours, and Rafe doesn't seem to care at all.

"You need to understand that my only priority back there was to keep you safe. I'm sorry about JJ, baby, I am, but staying would've only put you in more danger."

You shake your head at him, almost as if you're disgusted. You let out a sob and then try to wipe your eyes, only smearing JJ's blood on your face. He reaches over and grabs your cheek, pulling you to look at him.

"I'm going to go back there and get his body. You can say goodbye to him. I'm gonna pay off Barry and never go back there. But I'm going to protect you first, do you understand?"

You nod your head under his touch, letting out another sob as soon as you try to breathe in. Rafe brings his hands down to your hips and pulls you toward him, over the console and into his lap.

"Come here," he whispers gently, tucking his arms around you and holding you close.

He knows you're a mess right now and there's blood all over his truck, but he doesn't care. He just wants you to calm down.

"Rafe," you sob, not knowing what else to say. His shirt becomes soaked with tears quickly.

"I know," he tells you softly, "I know."

"He saved me," you say, more just processing what happened, "Oh, my God, he's dead because of me."

"Shh," Rafe hushes you, his heart feeling like it's breaking in two as he listens to you, "It's not your fault. None of this is. Just calm down for me, baby."

Your hands come up and wrap around the back of Rafe's neck as you nuzzle your nose into the front of it. He brings one hand up to stroke through your hair, trying to relax you.

"We're okay," he soothes, his other hand rubbing your back, "Everything's okay."

You two sit there for a while, Rafe just rubbing on you and calming you down, until eventually, you start to come to terms with what happened. He's thankful you're no longer hysterical.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," Rafe whispers against your head once he feels you relax against him.

You pull back and look him in the eyes, feeling his hand come up to wipe blood from your cheek.

"You'll go back and get him?" you confirm.

Rafe nods, "Yes, of course."

You nod your head and then bring your hand up to his cheek the same way he had on yours, observing how soft his skin is. You think about what Barry told you about them both loving you, and how he later told you that you love them both.

"Rafe?" you ask, your voice nasally from all the crying and screaming, "Can I ask you a question?"

Rafe nods, loving the feeling of your skin on his. It relaxes him, makes him feel complete.

"Barry told me he thinks you're in love with me," you say quietly, leaving out the part about JJ.

You watch as Rafe nervously swallows, and then nods his head ever so slightly. You feel your heart swell, not knowing Rafe Cameron could ever make you feel that way.

"It's true?" you ask him, searching around in his eyes for any kind of doubt. There is none.

"Yeah," Rafe barely whispers.

"Oh," you say, watching Rafe's expression change to hurt as you glance away.

He's sure you don't feel the same. When you look up at him again, he's staring intensely at you.

"Is it okay that I love you, too?" you ask him, voice fragile.

Rafe smiles slightly, then watches as you smile too.

"Yeah," he repeats, but with more authority this time.

He leans his head down and then hesitates, making you hesitate as well. You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to you. His lips make yours feel like they're on fire as they move together. He reaches up and grabs your cheeks, holding you to him. He pulls away after about a minute, staring at you in full adoration.

"I'm so sorry about today," he tells you, keeping his grip on your face, "I will never put you in any danger like that ever again."

You nod your head slowly, "I know that."

Rafe smiles down at you, bringing one hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"Let's go get you a shower," he says softly.

He doesn't make you get back in your seat, however. He just tightens his grip around you and puts the car in drive again, allowing you to hold onto him while he drives. It almost reminds you of being on the bike with Barry this morning. But instead of being completely disgusted, you're completely in love.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Desperate Measures.

Pairing: Yandere!Kaeya/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Kidnapping, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Stalking, and Delusional Mindsets.

Kaeya was a man, distracted.

Distracted. Divided. Not inattentive, but pulled away from his responsibilities by a force he couldn’t name and couldn’t say he cared for, either. He wasn’t a stranger to romantic inclinations — fantasies, sudden flings, slow-burning inclinations that died the moment his attention was called elsewhere. Predictably, the few relationships he allowed himself were short-lived, at best distasterous at worst, but he didn’t have a problem with that. If anything, Kaeya appreciated it. He’d always thought of company as optional, and what little loneliness he was still capable of feeling could be drowned with a generous glass of wine. He wasn’t one to linger. He tried not to overstay his welcome. He’d been sentimental, once, too emotional for his own good, and he’d learned his lesson. He didn’t intend to change.

He didn’t want to change.

And yet, here he was.

Distracted.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. It was all he could do to look like he might’ve been trying to read the most recent document left on his desk – this one from Jean, a directive for the younger knights or legislation she needed him to review or another vague, important report that he probably would’ve dealt with weeks ago, if he’d been able to concentrate.

He made a half-hearted effort to straighten his back as the door to his office began to open, but Kaeya dropped the act quickly, abandoning it completely by the time he heard the sound of heeled boots against hollow tile, caught a glimpse of a familiar (albeit, rarely used) catalyst, searched for eyes and found the cover of a thin book, instead, your face still buried in your newest novel as you stepped through the threshold, not bothering to knock. It was you. He should’ve known it would be. Who else did he deserve?

You, Lisa’s new assistant. You, the latest addition to the Knights of Favonius. You, his current, infuriating, unshakable fixation.

You, the new recruit who hadn’t paid him so much as a passing glance since your arrival, much to Kaeya’s frustration.

You didn’t look at him. You rarely ever did, but it hurt more than it usually did, today, as you dropped another form onto his desk, letting it replace the greeting you’d forgotten to offer. “Lisa needs you to sign this,” You started, laying out your priorities clearly, a skill Kaeya was beginning to resent. “It’s just next year’s budget. If you don’t want to read it, I think I’ll be able to look the other way.”

He glanced over the rows of numbers, the messy hand-writing, the columns of meaningless gibberish that blended together into a mess of ink and digits, and took your suggestion, scrawling his name across the only blank line. It was a lost cause, especially with you in the room. Especially with your unoccupied hand resting on his desk, your fingertips idly tapping an unsteady rhythm into the wood, and all he could think about was who he’d be willing to kill to feel that hand pressed against his cheek.

He considered asking you, for a moment, giving you an order and hoping you'd absent-mindedly obey. He thought about touching you, or running his fingers through your hair, or pulling you into his lap and mumbling sweet-nothings into your ear until someone else dragged you away.

He thought about a lot of things. Then, he said, “I take it your silence comes at a price?”

“Do I seem that selfish to you?” You were selfish. You had to be selfish. If you weren’t, then surely you would’ve been kind enough to put him out of his misery months ago. “I like helping people. Just remember this when I need a favor from you.”

“I’m sure we could work something more immediate out,” He went on, but you were already starting towards the door, calling the conversation to a close before Kaeya could begin to finish. In the back of his mind, something flared, the urge to catch your wrist, to go after you, to put himself between you and the only exit and refuse to move until you looked at him, but he forced it down, swallowing the temptation before it could eclipse his common sense. He couldn’t be impulsive. He couldn’t make rash decisions. He wasn’t prepared to deal with how difficult that would make things, not now.

Not yet.

“Join me for a drink?” He tried, again, attempting to sound unbothered. Nonchalant, casual, normal. Like he wasn’t itching to burn every book you’d touched. “I know you don’t have anything better to--”

“Another night, Captain.”

And just like that, you were gone, leaving Kaeya’s muttered response to echo through his empty office.

“Of course.”

~

Kaeya was a man, desperate.

Like a starving dog. Like a traveler who hadn’t seen water in thirty days. Like a distraught, distressed, disturbed knight, wandering through a maze of a library, cursing the existence of every shelf that separated him from you. He knew where you'd be. You were a creature of habit, and he’d already had more than enough time to memorize your routine. He’d had enough time to memorize everything about you, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It was a testament to his devotion, to how much time he’d spent trying and failing to win your favor.

It was evidence of how pathetic he’d gotten, over the course of his one-sided pursuit.

You were in your usual spot – tucked into the far corner of the library, perched on the edge of a windowsill, your attention monopolized by the tattered scroll spread across your lap. You were still pouring over it by the time he reached you, slumping against the nearest wall, taking in how brilliantly the muted sunlight looked as it danced across your skin. He didn’t try to hide the way he stared, anymore. He was long past worrying that you’d care enough to notice. Your hair was unkempt, proof that’d you slept in the archives again, if you’d slept at all. Your lips were bleeding, too, the lower one chewed raw and split down the middle, but it might’ve been stranger if they weren’t. It must’ve been a nervous tick, but Kaeya found it cute. Kaeya found it endearing. Kaeya found everything about you endearing, and to the archons, he wanted to see those lips wrapped around his co--

And he hated it. He found everything about you endearing, and he hated it. That was all.

He sighed, the sound airy, exhausted. You didn’t look up, but that was fine. It would’ve only hurt him further if someone as simple as that drew out your concern. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a hum, soft and contemplative. A rather generous response, by your standards. “I’ve noticed.”

“You’re all I think about.” It was an awkward confession, one he’d already used a hundred different times. He didn’t care. He’d use it a hundred more, if he had to. “I’m a wreck. I can barely remember my own name, and some days I can’t even do that. I can’t fight, I can’t eat, I can hardly breathe. Every morning, I wonder what it would be like to wake up to your smile, and every night, I stare at my ceiling and loath myself because I’m not holding you in my arms. For fuck’s sake, just yesterday, I almost kissed Albedo because the chemicals he was working with reminded me of the way your favorite kind of flower smells, and I’m just so fucking desperate, I convinced myself that was the closest I’d ever come to kissing you.”

He was rambling, by the end, panting, yelling, but you only blinked when he was done, once, then twice. Your dull nails bit into the edges of your scroll, but you didn’t seem to mind, nor did you move to roll it up as you finally turned to face him, the confusion written clearly across your expression. “You kissed Albedo?”

“You don’t get it,” He said, and you nodded in agreement. “You don’t fucking get it.”

“I think I do,” You admitted, more earnestly. Your gaze dropped back to the ground, and instantly, Kaeya deflated. “I just… I just don’t think it’d work out, if I’m being honest. I’m still new. I still have to give everyone else a reason to trust me, and I don’t think it’s in my best interest to start a relationship with one of my superiors so early on.” You paused, laughing to yourself, and something in Kaeya’s chest tightened. It was the happiest he’d been since he met you, and he still felt like you’d pushed a sword through his heart and twisted. “But, you don’t really want a relationship, do you? You’re just bored, and you need something to fixate on. I’m the most available option, so...” You trailed off, finishing your sentence with a vague, stilted sweeping gesture. “It’ll be easier for both of us, this way. I like you, Captain, but I don’t like you enough to put myself through that.”

It was all he could do to remember how to open his mouth. Once he did, the words came stumbling out on their own.

“Of course.”

~

Kaeya was a man, determined.

Determined might’ve been the wrong word for it. Too soft, too suggestive, the impression too positive and the meaning too vague. ‘Depraved’ might’ve suited him better, but that was too harsh, too primitive, and he’d like to think he’d been as gentle as anyone could expect him to be, given your stubbornness. He’d tried to be gentle. He’d wanted to be gentle. If he was going to do this to you, he could at least do it gently. You deserved that much, at least.

Or, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t deserve any of this.

He couldn’t really make up his mind, about that.

“Lisa?”

And he was gentle, more so than he had to be. Sure, you were on the floor, bare stone already beginning to chafe at your skin, but the shackles around your wrists were padded, and he’d given you enough slack to sit down, to ball yourself up, to act like it’d never crossed your mind that he’d resort to something so… easily misinterpreted. The blindfold was, similarly, an act of mercy. You’d panic if you woke up like this, chained to a wall in someone else’s cellar, and Kaeya didn’t want that. You needed time, and he could give you that. He would give you that. Even if it pained him to stay at arm’s length.

“Amber?”

He wanted to touch you. It’d be easy, now, easier than it’d ever been before. You wouldn’t be able to push him away, and even if you tried to, he could always overpower you. Take you by the neck, pin you against the floor, leave you shaking and trembling and begging, pleading with a captor you couldn’t see. He’d find a way to make it up to you, later on. He’d find a way to lie, to smile, to make it better, even if he’d failed to time and time again, out there. But, this would be different. You wouldn’t be able to cling to your excuses, and he’d be able to show you how much he cared, how much he wanted this, how much he loved you. This would be better.

“Kaeya?”

See? You were already coming around.

Your voice was already soft, hesitant, a sliver of a whisper that was constantly on the verge of dying out completely. You were trying not to make noise, trying not to seem as terrified as you really were, but he could hear the way your breath hitched as he took a step forward, your restraints rattling as you curled into yourself. You couldn’t hide from him, but you wanted to. That much was obvious. You didn’t want this.

But, he did. More than you could ever want to run away from it.

He wanted to touch you, but he held himself back. Instead, he only kneeled in front of you, letting himself linger for a moment before he spoke. “I’m here, love.”

“Where are we?” You were afraid, too scared to put the pieces together. Not while you could still hope there was another explanation. Not while you could still deny the apparent. “My head hurts, and I can’t--”

“I know, and I’ll make it up to you.” This time, he let himself reach out, cupping your cheek and chuckling as you tried to shy away. The two of you could work on that, later on. He could live with the guilt if he let himself enjoy it, now. “Just give me a moment, alright? Just a second, then I’ll take care of you.”

You opened your mouth, then you closed it again. Kaeya wondered if you’d be bold enough to refuse if he did try to kiss you, or hold you, or go further than the fleeting touches he’d swore would keep him satisfied, at first, at least. He wondered if he’d care, when you did. “Are… are you going to hurt me?”

He wanted to reassure you. He wanted to promise he’d be patient, that he’d understand if you lashed out, that violence wasn’t an option he was willing to consider, but he couldn’t, like this, could he? He didn’t want to hurt you, but he’d never wanted to kidnap you, either, not until you made it obvious he didn’t have another choice. He didn’t want to stoop so low, he didn’t want you to hate him, but…

But, he was lying again, wasn’t he?

To tell the truth, he couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely cared whether or not you loved him back.

You stifled a scream as his hand dropped to your jaw, his grip tightening as he jerked you forward, just close enough to wrap his arm around your waist, to bury his face in the side of your neck, to get a taste of what you’d deprived him of. It wasn’t enough, he doubted it’d ever be enough, but he had you. He had you, he was close to you, and he had you. That had to be enough, for now.

“We’ll see.”

[allegra-writes]

"The Game"

Tom Holland x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink.

Golf is boring. You wanna play something else...

"Swinging on the front porch, swinging on the floor.

Swinging where we want, cause there ain't nobody home..."

Cherry Pie - Warrant

He should have known it was a trap. He should have known it from the very first minute. This was punishment, plain and simple punishment. Unusually cruel punishment. He didn't even know why he was so surprised, in fact, he should have seen it coming a mile away. After all, you were about as subtle as a train wreck. And that was exactly how you had hitted him. 

You had always despised golf, said it was snobbish and boring. But he always invited you to tag along just in case, because sharing one of his favorite activities with his favorite girl? That sounded almost like paradise to him. That was probably the reason why that morning, when you had jumped at the chance to join him at the country club, he hadn't suspected a thing.

Oh, how naive he was. How trusting of him. Because now, he had to play 18 while trying to conceal a throbbing, almost painful erection, watching you prance around wearing that. It was ridiculous. It was silly. It was cliche.

It was driving him completely insane.

Your little ensemble was straight out of some soft-porn movie set, he was sure of it: Keds, knee high socks… and a criminally short pleated skirt, especially designed to torture him. You guys weren't even half way through, and he was already about to snap, with his arms enveloping you, hands over yours on the handle of the club, as you bended over just a little, ass pressing against his pelvis just enough to tease him, to remind him how good it felt being buried to the hilt inside your tight, tight heat, the slapping sounds of skin against skin combining with your moans...

One of his hands let go of the club, subconsciously wrapping itself over your hip bone, when you moved, twisting, hips getting away from his. 

"Oh my god! I can't believe it, did you see that?" You turned around to face him, eyes alight with joy at having hit the ball for the first time in your life. 

And for a second, he felt bad. He was probably reading too much into it, chances were you didn't even know what you were doing to him. You were innocent in all that, it wasn't your fault not knowing just how damn irresistible you were, how hard you made him just by standing close to him…

Until he noticed the outline of your nipples under your white t-shirt, made almost see through under the bright sunlight. His eyes squinted in suspicion.

"Are you wearing any underwear?" He blurted out, cheeks immediately turning red, looking around to make sure no one had heard him. But there was no one around, not many people playing on a wednesday morning. In fact, you had the whole course pretty much for your selves.

His cock twitched inside his pants, but he shook himself, squashing the thought before it could take full shape.

You seemed to ignore him, as your face fell.

"I… don't think I was supposed to shoot it that way, though" 

Tom's eyes followed yours, but try as he might, he couldn't find the white dot he was looking for.

"Where the hell did it go?"

"I think it landed behind those bushes" You pointed to the far away patch of hydrangeas on the other side of the field. He couldn't help the snort that left his mouth,

"Yeah, that's not even close to where it should be!"

"Hey! Don't laugh at me"

"I mean, at least we know you have a strong swing" He let out between laughs

You rolled your eyes,

"Be gentle with me, this is my first time" 

The laughter died in his throat like you knew it would, as the innuendo hit him, eyes darkening as they roved over your body once again. You had to know what you were doing... 

You turned around so he couldn't see your smirk, as you started walking in big strides in the direction of the bushes, leaving him to struggle to follow you, carrying the bag full of clubs. 

It wasn't a bad sight, he had to admit, watching you walk ahead of him, your skirt bouncing with your movements, hips swaying gently from side to side. And it was even better as you reached the tall plants, parting the branches trying to see past them, bending over once again, your short skirt riding up your thighs, higher, and higher. He gulped, what little blood was left in his brain rushing south, as he saw the cleft where the round globes of your ass met your legs. You climbed on your tiptoes, and he choked on a groan: just a little bit more and the answer to whether you had or not any underwear on would be right before his eyes, literally…

"Found it!" You called out, victorious, falling to your heels again, walking around the lilac flowers, disappearing from sight, heedless to his disappointment. 

He knew it was a bad idea, as he trailed after you, like in a trance. But there you were, waiting for him behind the tall wall of bushes hiding you both from sight from every angle, mischievous glint in your eye.

The ball was nowhere to be found, and he finally understood.

Your stomach made a flip as Tom tugged at his glove with his teeth, discarding it on the green grass, his whole demeanor changing before your eyes, jaw squaring, eyes hardening, movements slow and measured as he circled you like a tiger stalking his prey. 

"You dirty little liar" He accused, watching the corners of your mouth twitch, trying to hide your satisfied smile, but it was useless: you looked every bit like the cat that got the cream. Well, he knew of another thing that looked great dripping down your chin…

"You think you're real clever, don't you? Really sneaky, teasing me all morning with this little outfit," He let his now naked hand trace your nipples, already hard under the fabric of your tee, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. He was right, you hadn't bothered with a bra, "making me hard with your little touches and smart mouthed comments…"

"Golf is boring" You shrugged, "I wanna play something else" 

He stepped back, away from you, leaving you feeling cold without his heat, despite the bright sunshine. 

"Too bad, baby girl, I'm done with games" His eyes were steel as he commanded, "Show me"

"Show you what?" You looked at him through your eyelashes, you knew how much he liked it when you played coy. But this time, he had told you the truth, the games were over.

"You know bloody well what" His south London accent was always heavy when his patience was wearing thin, "lift that little skirt and show me what's mine" 

You obeyed, and this time, he did groan, the wet patch on the simple white cotton of your thong almost better than his fantasies of your bare skin. 

He fell to his knees on the grass. God, he was so whipped! His plan had been to have you kneeling in front of him, choking on his cock as he fucked your mouth so deep and hard that tears would stream down your face. He would release himself down your throat, leaving you begging for his softening cock, his fingers, his tongue, his freaking golf club, anything to fill your empty little cunt. But of course all of that flew out the window the second he actually saw that pretty pussy through your panties, made almost transparent with your desire for him, the fabric clinging to every curve, every little detail clear for him to admire.

"Come here, baby girl" His tone was much softer as he spoke, "let daddy have a little taste" 

You did as you were told, never stopping to hold your skirt up high for him. Tom nuzzled the cotton, breathing you in before hooking one finger on the damp fabric, tugging gently to the side to reveal your most secret spot to him. He let his tongue poke out, placing kitten licks against your clit, eyes rising to meet your face. Your own were closed already, little frown between your eyebrows, as if the tiny shocks of pleasure coursing through your body confused you. So expressive. So responsive. 

How could he ever stay mad at you when you were so fucking perfect? It only took one taste of you to melt whatever was left of his anger, as he marveled of the angel whining so prettily above him, delicate fingers digging into his shoulders to support herself as her legs shook for him. It never failed to amaze him, to blow his mind. It had always been like that, he had put you up on a pedestal long before you had started dating. 

But now, he wanted to lay you down, and spread you open under the sun. 

He tsked at your huff as his tongue left you.

"No, baby, you don't get to complain today. You've been a very bad girl, so now," He helped you down onto your back on the grass, making quick work of your panties. Taking a hold of your ankles, he hooked them over his shoulders, aligning himself with your dripping center, "you're going to take my cock like a good girl" 

With that, he let his head breach you, entering you slowly, so slowly. Savoring every second, sliding in inch by inch, making you feel every millimeter of his thick, thick length as he buried it into your sweet pussy, stretching you to the limits of pleasure. He had you fold almost in half, as his pelvis finally met yours. You sighed, you had thought he would burst through your ovaries before he was completely seated inside you.

"Can you feel me, babygirl? Feel how deep I am?" 

You nodded, unable to form words. He relented, only a couple of inches, before surging back in. 

"Feel me stretching your tight little cunt? Fuck, it feels so snug…"

He drew back again, snapping back against you harder, making you cry out,

"Yes!"

"Only I can fill you like this" He breathed, in and out again, and again. And again, establishing a harsh rhythm, "This pussy belongs to me…" 

"Yes, daddy" You sobbed, obediently. By now you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. He tugged at your t-shirt, sneaking his hand under it, massaging your breast. 

"These pretty tits are mine…"

It was hard to concentrate with him railing you into the ground, fast, brutal. Making sure the base of his cock dragged against your clit just right with every thrust.

"Yours, daddy" You managed, somehow, earning yourself a smile. If wolves could really smile at lambs before gobbling them right up...

He leaned forwards, bracing himself on one arm, the other travelling from your chest, to your neck. To your jaw. His tumb caressed your lower lip, and you opened up to him. Two of his fingers slid inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, you sucked them eagerly, hollowing your cheeks just the way he liked. 

"My princess… so pretty with your mouth full" Tom praised, hips never stopping, plunging his cock into you as far as it would go, over and over again, "wanna fuck your beautiful face… but this pussy… feels too good"

You sobbed around his fingers.

"So good… won't let me go… a slave" His thrusts were becoming messy. Erratic. Tom took his fingers out of your mouth to flick your clit with them.

"No, Tommy! Too much…" You cried, pushing at his hand, overstimulated. But he wouldn't budge. 

"Don't care. You're gonna take it" He growled, but sweetly kissed away your tears. He needed you to come, fast. Because there was no way he was lasting much longer, and you knew what to say if you really wanted him to stop anyway. 

"Fuck… yeah, just like that" he could feel you tensing around him. You were almost there, and he was right behind you, "so good… gonna come, baby girl. Gonna come inside you…" 

You shook your head, too delirious to express it with words, but he knew. You didn't like feeling dirty, didn't like the smell. But he fucking loved it. 

"Oh yeah… gonna fill you up… and you're not getting those panties back" His smirk was devilish, filthy. And you were sure that, even without his cock jackhammering into you, you could have come from that look alone. "Gonna see myself dripping down your thighs as you walk…"

His movements were downright sloppy now, as his words edged himself as much as they were edging you.

"Gonna have you sit in the car just like that… ruin your fucking little skirt… OH, FUCK" 

You felt his cock swell, pumping his seed inside your loins. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming, as his climax unleashed your own. Still, he kept moving,

"Gonna put your mouth around me while I drive…" There was no way the morning was ending without him having your mouth.

"Tom…" You could feel him begin to soften inside you, but he still wouldn't stop.

"Shhh, baby girl. Wanna make a mess…"

The end.

Buy me a coffee

[keanureevesisbae]

You're on a roadtrip and in the middle of nowhere, your car breaks down. Obviously your phone died too - what happens next?

This, is very interesting and my horny brain figured out what would happen next 👀👀

Walter Marshall x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.5k (yes, a lot happens)

Warnings: Fingering, squirting, unprotected sex 👀

‘Piece of shit,’ you mutter under your breath. You cannot believe this happened again and to make matters even worse, you're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Last time your car decided to break down, at least it happened downtown, meaning there were around five men who saw you hopelessly staring at your car, not knowing what to do and offered their help.

Now, you’re by yourself.

You grab your phone from the passengers seat, only to discover the most horrible thing that could ever happen to you.

Your battery died.

It’s probably around thirty minutes until you reach some sort of civilization and it’s getting darker and darker.

Oh no, is this how people get murdered?

Great, now you’re not only by yourself, but you also scared yourself by envisioning horrible scenario's. You pop the hood of the car, only to realize that everything looks the exact same and you have no idea where to start. Why do the problems have to be so complicated? If it were a flat tire, you probably would’ve managed to fix it, but this is on a whole new level of complex.

A car stops behind yours and your heart stops for a few seconds. Please don’t be a serial killer, please don’t be creepy in general. You peek around your car, only to see the very familiar truck. You’ve seen that car around in town, including the owner of it.

You watch him step out of the vehicle. His shoulders are broad, his strut is confident and his brows are furrowed, but that is nothing new. When he sees it’s you, one corner of his mouth curls up. ‘Sweetheart,’ he says and you can’t help but slightly giggle when hearing that nickname.

Detective Walter Marshall is a very well loved customer at the cafe you work at, mostly because he comes by every day and has become a reliable income. He always orders one cappuccino to go and sometimes he goes a little crazy and orders a cookie with it as well. He rarely smiles, but recently you noticed that whenever you took his orders, you not only earned yourself a very lovely 'Sweetheart', but also a small smile. Sometimes, he would even go as far to asking you what your plans were for after work and when you answered with whatever the plans were, he would simply nod and tell you to not have too much fun without him.

It was cheeky and slightly flirty, but it was always within the four walls of the cafe and nothing happened. You wished though. Walter Marshall was a very desired bachelor in town.

‘Hi detective,’ you say with a smile.

‘Car trouble?’

You nod. ‘Yes, it’s just that my car gives up from time to time.’

‘I see, I see.’ He rolls up his sleeves and stands next to you, examining everything. He starts to say something about some sort of liquid/fuel-thingy, but you have no idea what he means. Not only are you distracted because it’s too complicated, but also because of his outstanding beauty. No man in town tips to him.

Of course you fantasized about him, just like everyone else. There was quite the age gap between you, a rough fifteen years, but that never stopped you from having the most disgusting, NSFW dreams about him.

‘What?’ you ask him, when he looks at you, obviously waiting for an answer.

‘You weren’t listening,’ he chuckles. ‘That’s okay. What I said was that it’s too late to call for a tow truck and that I can’t fix it right away. We can leave your car here and I can drive you to your place if you want.'

'But what if it gets stolen?'

'How?' he asks. 'The car doesn't work, right?'

You shake your head. 'Maybe it's for the best. It's a stupid car anyway. The only reason I have it, because I got it for free.'

'Maybe that should've been a red flag. Free cars are rarely reliable.'

You scoff. Dammit, you hate it when other people are right. 'You sure you want to give me a lift?'

Walter scoffs. ‘I’m not gonna leave you in the middle of nowhere by yourself.’ He closes the hood of my car and adds to it: ‘Besides, I don’t want anything to happen to my favorite barista. You’re the only one who hasn’t messed with my cappuccino.’

You shouldn’t giggle or feel nervous, yet you do both.

‘Come on, go grab your stuff and we’ll go.’

You walk over to the driver’s side and lean over the seats to grab both the key from the ignition and your bag. Then you realize that you are wearing a pretty short skirt and your underwear is a bit on the flimsier side. You hear an approving hum from behind you. Part of you wants to die of shame, the other part however makes sure things heat up in between your thighs.

When you get out of the car and close the door, Walter has his arms crossed in front of his chest. ‘One condition, sweetheart,’ he says, taking the bag from your hand.

You frown. ‘For what?’

‘For me to give you a lift back home.’ He holds out one of his hands and says: ‘That piece of fabric you call your underwear, please.’

You blink your eyes once, twice and the universe how many times after that, mostly because you cannot believe those words—those dirty words—left his lips. His expression barely changed. It’s the emotionless look you are so used of seeing, but the words that take you by surprise.

You have had many dirty daydreams, but handing over your underwear in the middle of nowhere wasn’t one. You hook your thumbs behind the waistband of your panties and push it down your legs. When you step out of them, you hand them to Walter, who nods in approval.

The two of you walk towards the passenger’s side of his truck, when he grabs you by your hip and turns you around. With your back pressed against the door, he lets his hand slide underneath your skirt between your thighs. Your lips slightly parted, as his rough fingers knead the soft flesh of your thighs. ‘Do you have any idea how much I’ve been wanting this?’ he asks you. ‘It’s always those pretty smiles,’ he continues, ‘the way you lean over the counter in those tops with a deep neckline and how you bite your lip when you’re focused. Have you got a clue of what that does to me?’

‘No detective, I don’t,’ you whimper.

Walter smiles at your desperation, as you’re already grinding against his fingers. Fuck, he knew deep down what you could be, but this he didn’t expect. He dips in one finger, but when he discovers how wet you are, how ready you are for him, he pushes in another.

Your pleasured moan fills the emptiness around you. You’re a loud one too, Walter thinks to himself. You sure are the jackpot. His fingers brush against all the right spots. He watches your eyes rolling back, your breathing become ragged and your thighs and walls clenching together. ‘Beg for it,’ he says.

Instantly, you obey. ‘Detective, please, please, can I cum?’

There is no way you are truly real.

He barely has the change to answer, when you tumble over the edge. When you have to hold onto him since you can’t trust your own legs. When you squirt passed his fingers down your legs. The sobs and strained moans that leave your lips, make him grin in satisfaction. He roughly slams his lips against yours and within a second you melt against him.

He pulls out his fingers and without letting go of your lips for one millisecond, he opens the door of his truck. ‘They always say you are such a lovely young lady. So innocent and sweet,’ he says to you. ‘But you’ve got a dirty streak.’

You bite your lip and let out a sweet giggle when he turns you around, bending you over the passengers seat of the truck, your toes barely finding the ground. As Walter uses one hand to knead the soft flesh of your ample behind, the other unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. After pumping it a few times, he lines himself up at your throbbing cunt, before pushing himself in entirely.

The sounds that leave your lips, make him go feral. Part of him wants to take the time, worship your body and look you in the eye as you fall apart in his arms. But that part doesn’t have the upper hand now. The part that wants to destroy you, rail you, fill you is completely taking over.

There is no stopping now. Skin slapping against skin. His groans mixed with your cries of pleasure. He can feel it, your warm walls that feel so good around him, start to squeeze his hard member. ‘Detective, I’m close again,’ you wail.

‘Let it go, sweetheart,’ he tells you and on cue you start to shudder, your orgasm washing over you and that’s enough for him to reach his limits. He holds your hips tightly, probably imprinting you with some bruises, as he paints you from the inside.

He gives himself a few seconds to regain himself, before he pulls out and watches it all drip down your legs. You’re limb, barely able to stand on your legs. Your skirt is still bundled up near your waist, revealing your beautiful round bottom.

He grabs you by your arm and pulls you against his body, pressing his lips on yours. ‘You’re gonna make a mess on my seat,’ he says.

‘You’re fault,’ you mumble against his lips, only for you to earn a sharp slap on your behind. ‘Sorry, detective,’ you whisper. ‘How— Where do I sit then?’

He smiles. ‘Right on my cock as I drive you to my place, because we’re not done yet.’

✨ Okay, I'll see myself out now ✨