#hope you like it and thanks for the prompt!😘

[teejaystumbles]

Last line tag game

Tagged by @dsudis, thank you!! I'm currently writing a short fic for several bingo prompts, I hope it's okay to give you a teaser. This was a spur of a moment inspiration that has since developed a life of its own and is already 4000 words long 😅

The man's blue eyes are wide and shimmering wetly. Hob worriedly pulls back and searches for the right words to apologise.

“Oh darling, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tease-”

“Hob Gadling. I would not. Be here. If I didn't like you,” Dream grinds out and then steps away from Hob, but only to get onto the bed beside him and lie down. Hob watches him, awed by the miles of lean muscled limbs and alabaster skin he has revealed. Dream seemingly makes himself comfortable on the bed, arms behind his head, and gives Hob a challenging look.

“Will you serve your king now?” he purrs and Hob feels himself growing hot all over.

Tagging @seiya-starsniper because they are largely responsible for this 😘, also @tj-dragonblade and @delta-pavonis for their unfaltering support ❤️

[deadghosy]

Hi! I hope you're doing great!

So I saw the headcannons of reader as Catnap and Dogday and I fell in love with the way you write! So I was wondering if you could do a headcannon about the reader being bendy from bendy and the ink machine?

Like the reader can draw and bring ink creatures to help around the hotel, maybe draw some decorations for the hotel? Sometimes going full on ink demon form to protect it or just pick up their friends on their back to make them feel taller

And the reader was actually an animator at joey drew studios and died, I think that would be pretty cool!

P.s I would love if the reader was wearing the same suit bendy wore in bendy and the dark revival

HAZBIN HOTEL X BENDY!READER

Prompt: a cute “little” demon becomes a resident who helps with the designs around the hotel!

Starting off. You definitely appeared as baby bendy 😘 with ya cute ass red bow or white bow. What ever you want the bow color as you showed up to the door trying to seem professional as Charlie gushes at your cuteness and lets you in.

The picture of baby bendy in the car, yeah you have that as you literally fuckin' zoom in the hallways drinking apple juice like a bad ass kid….bendy!Reader and chibi!Reader both doing races to make sinners poor😭 lil evil asses….

I imagine Angel dust and Alastor ganging up on you as a team to insult you by your height until you grow up to ink demon from with a roar.

“HOLY SHIT-” “Oh my.” They both said as you they were blew off by the power of your roar. So you felt happy seeing them shocked to see that part of you as Charlie didn’t see it and had commented how adorable you are with your suit.

Shit you are a devil in an angel’s suit‼️

You still wore the suit you had in when you met Audrey…man you miss her. But you are getting taken care of by Charlie and her friends here. Plus her father.

You help design the banners around the place! And even your small ink minions help as well.

I can imagine bendy! Reader being like “fuck it.” Because they can’t reach for the cereal and turn into normal height looking bendy and just starts to act as if it’s normal. While in the background, the crew has pure confusion on their face. Like, “what the fuck? You can be taller?”

“Yeah! Pretty neat right?” “..Im out of here…” husk says walking away as niffty goes up to you excited to talk to you about your height.

You ran over alastor’s foot once….you never speeded over 120 mph in your whole life seeing Alastor chase after you.

I imagine you going to normal height as you are just chilling with your small or long tail swinging and husk gets curious as he picks it up with his paw. “So…this ya tail right here?” You nodded reading the new paper. “So you’re a sinner demon?” “I ain’t nothin'” you said with a smirk as you disappeared in ink.

No one knows what exactly what you are. You don’t have the basic looks to look like a sinner or a hell born. So it’s kinda confusing to other.

You’re obviously a human who died to the ink as you use to animate bendy…so you’re bendy?? Does that make since because whatever you died by is your demon form….hopefully that made sense..

You once went full ink demon mode because a sinner tried to attack at you and husk while just running errands for the hotel. You transformed getting taller with the ink covering your face as you growl and slashes at them with a giant gloved hand covered in ink. And after that husk respected you more.

“Bendy/reader, can you help me make a cute star design?” Vaggie asked as Charlie was trying to make a star gazing banner. You nodded with your cartoony smile and pulls out a marker and started to draw on the air. The star in the air becomes to life as vaggie’s eyes widen.

“Uhm…oh wow. Thanks?” Vaggie says as she walks away with question marks visible while you just smile.

Y’know those dubbed comics where bendy has an accent? I feel like that’s cannon because you and Angel would be babbling about which part of city you guys were from.

I can see sir Pentious and you doing crafts as you made him an ink cartoon flower as he made you a bracelet bead with your name on it.

Lucifer will definitely play violin as you tap dance. Just a wholesome ass moment fr 💗🦆

You one time had fat nuggets in your doom buggy as you guys had shades just chilling around the hotel like bad asses✨

You miss your original family when you were alive and working. But everytime you open your eyes, you are greeted by the sweet comfort of your new family in the hazbin hotel.

You one time made an ink sculpture of your family and you tried to hold your smile but it faltered as you cry at how you missed your family as the ink sculpture melted due to your emotions.

Alastor appeared in your room seeing you sad little state as he comforted you. He had taken a liking to you ever since you joined the crew.

I can see you being childish because of your shortness so you use it to your advantage. YOU AND ALASTOR MAKE YOUR INK DEMONS FIGHT LIKE POKÉMON 😭😭

lol imagine bendy!reader making a whole like of fake ass tarrot cards to fuck with people as you have that smirk on your face.

“You’re gonna get run over toots…watch your back..” “what. The. Fuck-”

They got ran over by a mysterious person and a car….who knew who it was…it was you, you little bastard.

When the hotel has a talent and show day or night, you remembered how you animated bendy to do ballet and tap dancing. So with your information, that’s what you did. Yeah some sinners laughed..but some aplaude as they found it cute and so did your friends

You making ink blob bracelets for your friends as you can make them solid is a goal for real.

Headcannon on how you would try to make ink sculptures, but failing as you huff in anger and smash it with a full ink demon hand as the rest of your body is fine.

Headcannon of you just accidentally leaving ink footprints as you took off your shoes once 😭 niffty doesn’t complain as she likes to clean tho

I can see Lucifer picking your small body up happy for you to be so small as he has started in his eyes. And you are like annoyed at how the cast picks you up like a baby.

LMAO THAT WALMART MEME STOPPP😭😭 LUCIFER PUTS YOU UP TO THE DAMN WALMART CAMERA HAVING ALASTOR ALSO PICK LUCI UP 😭😭

I imagine you and Alastor having either a “bad ass son x calm father” troupe or a “non-biological sibling” troupe as you two get quite along

Your little ass doom buggy is such a weapon when needing to take a troubled guest in the hotel….YOU RAN THEM OVER?! 😨 ALL PEOPLE SEE IS A SMALL ASS INK DEMON HAVING A GUEST SCREAMING AS THEY GET RUNNED OVER TO THE DOOR-

So when the angels came for the battle, you were sure damn ready as you suffocated them in ink and control them into killing their own.

After seeing your full demon form, you definitely had been seen in a different light. They don’t see you as the cute baby bendy they seen you before.

Nah nah. They see you as a grown ass person as you are not in the baby bendy phase but more like the fanart type shit looks. With your charm, you definitely bring in some customers. 

HOPED YOU GUYS LIKED THIS AS THIS IS ALL I COULD COME UP WITH 🦆💗 MWAH

[ham1lton]

manifest it!

pairing: logan sargeant × famous singer!reader.

faceclaim: mariah carey.

warnings + summary: nothing. mostly fluff!! logan is a big simp and in his y/n era. he’s kinda real for that.

author's note: i had sm fun with this prompt!! hope u enjoy it <3 also i realised i might have spelt his name wrong at some point but ignore any errors. as i said… we die like men 😘😍.

————————————————————————

liked by taylorswift, logansargeant and 1,937,828 others.

yourusername: miami!! you were incredible!! thank you for letting this gal perform for you. my new album is a part of my heart and i’m so happy to share not only the album but the documentary of the behind the scenes. love you all and i’ll see you soon!! mwah! 🦋.

user1: BEST VOICE OF THIS GEN!!!

user2: the lyrics on butterfly are making me cry. her pen is LETHAL y’all.

user3: why is logan liking her pics…

-> user4: no seriously 😭 like ariana?? what are you doing here??

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

liked by y/nswifey, logansargeant and 170,092 others.

y/nstyle: some of y/n’s formula one outfits!! i’ll link the origins in my bio 🦋💕 which is your favourite?

user1: oh that carlitos girl was right…

-> user2: our girl is gone….

user6: the first one ate down. one thing about y/n is that she loves herself some sunnies.

user3: no why is no one questioning that logan has been following this account for three years??

-> user4: he’s one of us.

-> user5: for style inspo duh…

-> user3: girl i doubt he wants to dress like y/n… he just wants y/n 😭😭

————————————————————————

BONUS:

liked by kerrywashington, celinedion and 1,928,838 others.

yourusername: winning the grammy was the second best part of the night. the best was having someone dear to me to celebrate it with. sorry my speech ran over @grammys. can you blame a girl? thank you to everyone who supported me with this album. my team, my producers, my band and my incredible backing vocalists. you brought this to life.

and to my supporters. i want to thank you all for being the sweetest people and so incredibly nurturing as i wrote this album. thank you for letting my album last 21 weeks at number one!! i’m still shocked!! i’m gonna sign off now because i have to celebrate but mwah! i’ll see you all soon on the butterfly tour! 🦋💕

user1: no softlaunch for our girl. she straight out said ‘shoutout to my boyfriend logan.’ she’s so real. we love this for you queen.

user3: BUTTERFLY TOUR!!! im gonna have to fight with logan for the damn tickets now 😒

-> user4: when you’re in a y/n stan competition and your opponent is logan sargeant 😨😨.

user2: y/n dating a delusional fan is so real… that means i have a chance with charles leclerc!!

-> charles_leclerc: no you don’t.

-> user7: unprovoked 😭😭

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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 282,928 others.

logansargeant: happy birthday my love. two years together and a lifetime to come. you’re the girl of my dreams and i’m so glad you chose to spend your life with me. love you butterfly 🦋💕.

landonorris: ain’t no way you’re dating thee y/n….

-> yourusername: believe it bitch 🦋💕.

-> user1: NOT THE BUTTERFLY EMOJI 😭

-> oscarpiastri: i didn’t believe it either but he must have gone to the tom holland school of manifestation.

-> landonorris: logansargeant ME NEXT ME NEXT ME NEXT 🙏🏼 🧘🏽

user2: BEST COUPLE EVER.

user3: all those gifts?? damn… she’s getting spoiled as she should!

user4: favourite song on butterfly?

-> logansargeant: that’s like asking me to choose between my children 😨

-> yourusername: it’s breakdown 🦋💕.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media au

✯charles leclerc x female reader

✯nothing beats the love of a father <3

✯not requested just felt like getting another little something out, im working on some writing prompts and fics as well so i hope they come out soon🩷

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, leclerc_pascale and 342,000 others

Alia & Mommy day, just missing daddy🩷

tagged charles_leclerc

see 76,000 comments

username she’s so precious 😭

username i need to know where the blonde genes come from

>ynleclerc my mom!!🥰

leclerc_pascale trop mignonne❤️❤️

>ynleclerc 😘😘

francisca.cgomes the cutest momma and daughter duo

>ynleclerc see you this weekend auntie kika!!

charles_leclerc my girls, i miss you both so much🙁

>ynleclerc we miss you more…see you soon my love❤️

username are we getting alia in the paddock content?👀

liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, ynleclerc, carlossainz55 and 768,000 others

then and now, please stop growing so fast mon petit fleur😘

tagged ynleclerc

see 86,000 comments

username she’s growing up so fast😭

username the real og’s remember baby alia

ynleclerc look at her!! she loves the track as much as you char❤️

>charles_leclerc time to put her in karting?

>ynleclerc we’ll talk…..

username alia for the win!!

carlossainz55 okay now bring her over to me, it’s time for our tea party

>ynleclerc that’s why she keeps saying ‘tea with coco’ 😂

>username alia calls carlos coco😭😭

>landonorris why don’t i have a cute nickname😃

scuderiaferrari she’s our favourite guest❤️❤️

wagsofF1

liked by username, F1gossip, paddock news and 4,000 others

charles watching his wife and daughter at his interview in the fanzone today, and then as soon as Alia got fussy and they began to walk away he was super serious, keeping his eye on them. at one point a few fans got a bit too excited and you should have SEEN how upset he was, he left the stage and made sure security attended to his family until he could get to them and make sure they were safe.

remember they are people too and there is no excuse for the behaviour shown today towards the leclerc family.

see 500 comments

username those fans need to a grip

username he’s so protective of his girls :(

username Alia was crying and you could tell Y/N was getting anxious, charles was so quick to jump in and make sure they were safe

username best dad of the year award goes to charles fr

username anyone who tried to scare y/n and alia today aren’t real fans.

username i hope they’re all ashamed of themselves

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, carla.brocker and 435,000 others

the worlds best father and husband, thank you for loving and keeping Alia and I safe❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

*comments on this post have been disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, ynleclerc, apmmonaco and 657,000 others

you’ll always be safe with me❤️

tagged ynleclerc

see 600 comments

arthur_leclerc love you guys❤️

carlossainz55 ❤️

ynleclerc we love you so much char, never forget that

>charles_leclerc nothing like that will ever happen again.

carla.brocker looking forward to giving you guys big big hugs❤️

*comments on this post have been limited*

ynleclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, leclerc_pascale and 536,000 others

I know we weren’t there to watch in person like we originally planned but we are so proud of you honey! I know Alia was happy to see you when you got home, I swear you can tire her out better than me most days. we love you so much and can’t wait to see you keep winning❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

see 56,000 comments

username YAY CHARLES!

username i still feel so upset that y/n and alia left the race because of stupid fans☹️

username our favourite family!!

charles_leclerc I love you both so much, this win was for you❤️

liked by ynleclerc

scuderiaferrari sending hugs to you all, hope to see you again someday soon❤️

>ynleclerc you can count on it☺️

[ellecdc]

helloooo, I am not the one who requested the reactions to a needy reader but I would love to see the reactions when they’re NOT in a relationship! Please and thank you ❤️❤️😘

ooooooou ok ok ok ok based off of this ficlet-ish thing here, the original prompt was:

how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk) would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀

so, this is the not in a relationship edition: mature content ahead, viewer discretion is advised

James:

turns so red

eyebrows raised so far up his forehead that his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose

takes him a few moments to restart his brain

nervous laughing

"oh, erm, haha, well...I mean...I, I'm not sure what it is you're looking for but, erm, well...."

he does eventually spit it out that he'll help you out if you were serious

I think he'd be the kind of guy that it would be like, super casual? sort of transactional/you two kind of giggling or bumbling your way through it -> "ow!" "oh shit, sorry, y'alright?" "yeah, sorry, can we just.." "like this?" "yeah that's better" like, giggling fits through out sort of deal

either way, he does help you out - you both agree to let each other know when you can help the other out again

Sirius:

cocks an eyebrow at you and looks you up and down with a salacious smirk

"is that so?"

he let's that sit in the air for a few minutes as he shifts in his seat and returns his 'focus' to his books (though he's anything but focused now), still wearing a shit-eating grin

"if only there was someone here to help you with that."

you start looking around the room to see if there is indeed someone who will help you with that, seeing as Sirius is obviously fucking useless

you finally sigh "I'll go see if anyone in the common room is game"

he slams his books shut and hastily grabs his things, grabbing you roughly and dragging you out of the library

absolutely fucking ravishes you in a broom closet - you're worried you won't be able to walk back out on your own

leaves marks on you just to prove a point

"you're not going to find anyone else who can make you feel better than me, doll. let me know when you find yourself needing my help again"

Remus:

definitely a little blushy; I see him being somewhat shy at first if he doesn't know you too well / doesn't know where exactly he stands with you because he'd never want to make anyone feel uncomfortable

likely ask you to "come again"

when you tell him that's exactly what you're trying to do (😉😉😉) he's blushing again and laughing nervously as he looks back at his book/whatever he'd been doing prior to that

get's a little stuck in his head about it: you were bold enough to complain to him, should he be bold enough to offer you his help? is that even what you were trying to accomplish? were you just confiding in him as a friend? who complains to their friends about being horny? would someone like you even want a guy like him?

well, what's he got to lose by offering? if you laugh in his face, he can just avada himself later (rem has a dark sense of humour, sorry)

finally clears his throat and awkwardly offers his assistance if you want, though he refuses to make eye contact with you as he does.

he's surprised by how quickly you accept but he hastily finds an empty class room and spreads you out on a desk to go down on you - he doesn't want you returning the favour; he's hoping if he makes you feel good, you might come back for more

Regulus:

see, him I see getting shy and walking away

face blanches when he realizes what you've admitted

perhaps he's not sure you were actually asking him/if you were simply confiding in him

basically sits frozen in his spot until he can't take it anymore

says something stupidly awkward like "well.....good luck with that!" and hastily leaves the room

definitely bangs his head against the wall in his dorm when he realizes what a fuck up that was

absolutely jerks off in the shower later fantasizing about all the ways that conversation could have gone differently

Barty:

I think it'd be the same as the other fic?

"Barty? I'm, erm, well....I'm feeling kind of......needy?"

Barty shrugs and just stops whatever he's doing, turns to you and says "okay, take your clothes off/lift your skirt"

and then suddenly you're like "........????"

rolls his eyes at you. "well? do you want my help or not?"

"I, uhm, well...."

"Salazars saggy balls, no wonder you're so strung tight - no one will fuck you if you can't get a simple yes out."

"yes! Okay, yes....." you admit finally

shit eating grin spreads across his face

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into"

.....all this to say, he certainly helps you out lol

[cosmicck]

dude sorry lol💀 I didn’t notice the 1000 event. Although, now that I see it, could I request prompt 29? With Miguel O’hara if possible… bottom reader preferably, don’t care if sub or dom

thanks for reading this and I’m sorry for wasting your time

★miguel o'hara x male reader(nsfw)

★genre: smut

★warning(s): subtop miguel, dombottom reader, drinking miguels booby milk(might be a little gross the way i write things), dick riding(miguel gotta be a good 10 inches), miguel whimpers(real), kind of cringe titty talk, short fic i think, oh shit yeah and size kink, and reader doesn't need a web shooter

★a/n: i always add some extra shit bro also never say sorry for wasting my time(actually dont please) also im listening to tell me by fifty fifty😘

you liked..no loved miguels tits. now it was kind of embarrassing to say it out loud to yourself but god, just look at them they were so big looking and fit him just right in a way you could very clearly explain if someone would just let you.

you were dating sure, but the urge to just squeeze them right where he stood no matter who was around it was just the damn urge to do so.

but no one said you couldn't do that in private now could they? all you were gonna ask for is one gentle squeeze and then you'd be finished. but one gentle squeeze turned into a few rough ones, that turned into you on top of him your ass slamming down onto his dick. his hands tight secure on your waist his nails retracted simply for your saftey.

"god..if only you could see yourself." if only he could, that look on his face was everything you needed in life he was so adorable looking, the way he kept trying to speak but whimpers and loud moans kept replacing them instead.

his face dripping with swear the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead his nipples perked which started to get you to wonder something. just a little curiosity, it wouldn't kill him.

you leaned down sticking out your tongue flicking the bud using your teeth to slightly pull at it before wrapping your mouth around it fully and sucking harshly.

his hands tried to pry you off but that was annoying, your fingers pressed against the edge of your palm, webs shooting out to make both of his hands stick to the head board.

"(m/n)— what the hell are you- fuck.." his hustle ended quick enough as your other hand fiddled with his other pec you fingers twirling his nipple around and pinching it getting such ear melting sounds and reactions out of him.

what a genius you are to think of something like this. having such a big guy under you whimpering with just the few touches of your finger? i mean sure minus the fact your still sitting on his dick rocking your hips occasionally it was such a sight to see him come un-done simply because of you.

looking up you saw his face was getting more twisted with pleasure almost as if something was coming, well you were right and wrong in your own mind. as you continued to suck you felt something fill your mouth there wasn't that much of it but you still felt it and his reaction was priceless.

every bit of it you swallowed, you could describe it tasting like sweet milk even something way different than semen. sitting up and licking your lips taking a deep breath and looking over to his other breast.

he was already out of breath and it seemed like he was trying to use his nail to unbind himself but you weren't done just yet. might as well stop moving your hips for him and just cockwarm him with your mouth all around his other nipple.

"miguel i hope you know we aren't finished." you gave him a small peck on his forehead then whispering something in his ear.

"this one looks a little neglected don't you think?"

i fucking hate the ending bro also update im listening to the vampire😍😍 @gaybitchfx @esthxio @secretivemessenger @vyloy @bloodyfennec @kitsune-yuhhh @reallyromealone i feel like im missin someone

oh well

[aurorawritestoescape]

ADDICTED || Max Phillips x f!reader || 3k

Summary: Max gives you everything you need but can you stop when the pleasure gets addictive?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, biting, blood drinking (not graphic), f/m oral, mind control (dub-con, then very enthusiastic), slapping, unprotected piv, heartbreak, themes of addiction, obsession. Reader has hair. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no physical description.

A/n: this is for @iamasaddie ‘s Kinky May challenge with a prompt daddy kink for Max Phillips. Thank you for hosting it, Aly😘 Thank you @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and holding my trembling hand♥️ it’s my first time writing Max and I’m very nervous. Hope you all will enjoy it!💖

dividers by @saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

You can’t get enough of him.

His fingers gripping your hair, his strong hips between your slicked up thighs, the burn his teeth leave behind, the pleasure his soft lips give you.

Yet most of all you can’t get enough of his voice.

It’s like the sweetest poison that seeps into your welcoming ear, tying you closer to him with every uttered sound. Making you addicted. Obsessed.

“You’re mine. All of you. Every drop, baby.”

“Yes, daddy,” you always agree with him. These are the rules of the game. You do what he says, he doesn’t leave you.

He gives you what you need. Purpose.

“You’re daddy’s hole. Nothing more. I’m here to fill you and feed on you. You don’t need anything else. Just daddy fucking his cum into you, load after load. While your blood satiates me. Drop after drop.”

“Yes, daddy…please, give it to me… want it…take it.”

You get so high on his voice telling you what to do, it’s euphoric. You’re always in a half trance. At work your mind is occupied by him; whenever you spend time with your family or friends, your thoughts are elsewhere. You don’t need them anymore. You are lost in him. In your mind you’re in bed, pressed by his heavy body. Limbs intervened, your sweaty skin flush against his as he’s claiming your body and soul.

It used to be easy. The first time you met at a club where Max tried to pick you up and succeeded. He was handsome, charming as hell, talkative, funny in an assholish way. Absolutely not your type, but you didn’t mind having fun. You two fucked in the bathroom and when he bit your neck and licked off the blood, you thought he was just kinky. The alcohol in your blood didn’t let you think straight. He made you come on his cock and you gave him your phone number.

Max came without a call, just appeared on your doorstep one night, and you let him in. You were cringing at your desire for some corporate suit, but he’d given it to you so good that night and you had never passed on a great fuck.

“I like you”, he said directly, lying on your sofa. He came right after work and told you that he was tired, at the same time exuding energy. You were staring at him, amused by his confidence. Max had an air about him like he owned the place and everything in it, including you.

“There’s something special about you,” he continued, pouting his lips in thought, “I don’t even need to command you. You’re so hungry. You do what I want all by yourself, baby.”

“Command me?”, you scuffed and snapped back, offended by his words, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself, baby”. Max was hot but a man would never be the boss of you, you thought.

He bucked his hips, getting more comfortable on your sofa, and shot you a smug smile that made you want to slap him. Before fucking him.

“Get on the sofa. All fours,” He told you, nodding at the spot next to him. His voice was the same, deep and gruff but somehow different. As if he grabbed your will and caged it in his big hand. Made it his will instead. And to your astonishment your body followed the order.

“Take off your clothes,” he said, sitting up, as your hands and knees were already planted firmly on the surface.

He got up and made you stand still while his hands were exploring your naked body — kneaded your breasts, twitched your nipples, glided over your back, slipped between your folds and swirled your throbbing clit. Your head was absolutely empty, your mind already occupied by only him.

“Beautiful,” he praised you, spreading your ass cheeks and admiring the view, “daddy’s gonna have so much fun with you.”

You bit your lip when he called himself that and then whimpered when he latched onto your pussy. He tasted your desire for him as his hot tongue slid between your folds and traced your crying hole. A whine escaped your parted lips when his mouth stopped caressing your cunt and he stood in front of you.

With widened eyes you watched him perch on the armrest of the sofa, spreading his thighs wide.

“You know what’s my favorite thing to do?” He asked, smirking at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you were just blinking at him while a myriad of emotions were swirling inside your chest.

“Oh, you can’t answer, right. Baby though she’s in charge, huh?” Max chuckled and then leaned closer to you face, bringing his lips to your ear and whispered,

“Let’s see who’s in charge,” and added, “Come for daddy.”

You felt burning in your stomach, your core tightened, pussy started clamping around nothing, and you cried out as a hard orgasm began shaking your whole body, making your limbs tremble. He was palming himself, watching your face twist in pleasure, loud moans leaving your lips as the waves of ecstasy were lapping at your heated body. It was hard to stand still and his previous command was the only thing that kept you from collapsing on the sofa.

“Relax,” he told you and you plopped on the surface panting heavily, while aftershocks were still going through your body.

He stood up and you felt his thumb brush your cheekbone.

“Do you believe me now, sweetheart?” He asked with a head tilt, as his bulge was looming over your head.

You looked up at his smug face, smiled a little and replied,

“Yes, daddy. Please, do it again”.

Now when he’s in your bedroom, time stops. Life stops. As soon as he sits on the edge of your bed, you kneel between his thighs, your big eyes full of deep admiration, a short sheer nightie barely covering anything. He often buys you new lingerie. He enjoys spoiling you. Also blood is hard to wash off.

If he wants you to suck his cock, all he needs to do is nod at his crotch. But tonight he wants all of you.

“C’mere,” he tells you, patting his thigh with his big hand. In a second you’re sat on his lap, your naked pussy soaking his black suit pants.

“Nearly snapped someone’s neck at work today, incompetent idiot,” He grumbles in a low voice and asks, “How was your day, baby?”

You’re pouting your lips. Who cares? Fuck life. This is what you need. This is what makes you happy, ecstatic, euphoric.

“-was ok,” you mumble, as your stomach churns with impatience. Your gaze is set downcast while you’re fumbling with his crimson tie. He nuzzles your neck and takes a deep breath of your scent. A shudder goes through him from the way you smell and you slightly roll your hips, rubbing your needy pussy against his thigh.

“So impatient, baby. Do you remember how Daddy punished you for your impatience?” his cold palm wraps around your throat and tilts your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, where his favorite vein is fluttering like a little bird under his hungry gaze.

You won’t ever forget that punishment. You have been kneeling at the foot of your bed, watching him languidly play with his cock and balls. Your mouth was watering whenever a drop of precum slid down the curve of his fat tip. He has been edging you and himself for what felt like hours until he gave you the permission to suck his cock and you came just from having him in your mouth.

“Yes, I’m sorry, daddy. I’ll wait.”

“Good girl,” he says before his lips start sucking on your delicate skin, right over the artery. He licks the patch of skin there as his hand slithers under the neckline of your nightie and squeezes your breast.

“I’m gonna take a sip and you’re gonna be a good girl and play with Daddy’s cock, ‘k?

“Yes, please”.

You tilt your head even more, offering your blood to him as your left hand slides between your bodies. You find his belt buckle and undo it, stopping yourself from rushing. You don’t want daddy’s punishment tonight. You crave his reward.

You open his pants and moan as he breaks your skin with his fangs.

You got so used to the feeling, you don’t even notice the pain. The pain is like a threshold that you step over to get to the pleasure. A small price you pay each time for the immense ecstasy he’s going to give you.

As he starts gently sucking, you take out his cock which is already hard as steel and caress its velvety skin with your fingers. It twitches in your hand and Max growls.

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

You hastily spit in your palm and return your hand to his twitching length. You wrap your hand around it and begin pumping with a rhythm you know he loves.

You flutter your eyes shut, getting lost in the feeling, ready, so ready to give and get more.

You feel his precum on your hand, and without looking, you spread it over his soft skin.

Max’s lips smacking against your neck, his growling that sends pleasant vibrations through you, his tongue, gathering the blood off your skin, mixes with the squelching sounds of your hand, dancing over his cock. It’s throbbing, pulsating in your little hand and you press your body closer to his torso, wishing to feel his length against your belly.

“Daddy, may I have it, please?”

He groans and his lips leave your neck as he commands without using his powers, “lie down.”

You can’t follow the order quicker. You need him more than air. Your empty pussy is weeping to be filled, used, stretched by his manhood. Your whole being craves to serve his needs and after satiating his hunger for some time, your cunt is ready to be fed.

Your thighs fly apart and you look up at him with pleading eyes. Max is not cruel but he’s also quick to punish you if you piss him off.

His cock bobs when he gets between your thighs and a drop of precum lands on your mound. You already whine at the sensation.

“So obedient, you really want it tonight, huh?”

“I always want it… but yes, daddy, please,” you add hastily, batting your lashes at him.

“What do you want?”

As soon as he uses this voice, the atmosphere in the room changes. He was your ‘daddy’, now he’s your god. He asks and you reply without a moment of hesitation,

“I want not to feel anything but your cock deep in my cunt, not to think. Be so cockdrunk I can’t keep my eyes open.”

He smirks but there’s a trace of bitterness in his expression.

“I see.”

He sighs and grabs your thighs with his massive hands. He spreads your legs even wider, and when your pussy blooms for him he harshly spits on your throbbing clit, making you jerk and moan. The next second he lifts your hips up and pierces you with his cock. He’s either in a good mood which you doubt by his roughness or craves a release. With your ass lifted off the bed, you gasp suddenly feeling full as your walls are spreading for him. But you need more and he knows it.

“Do you feel me deep inside, baby?”

“Yeah, you’re so big, daddy.”

“Wanna feel more? “

“Yes, daddy, please. I’m begging you, I want nothing more.”

“ ‘k, baby. You’ve been such a good girl.”

Without a warning his voice changes and he starts ordering you.

“Listen to me, hear only my voice.”

The city noises from the outside are immediately gone. You hear nothing, not even ticking of a clock in your bedroom. Only his voice is in your ears as if he’s speaking right inside your mind.

“You feel nothing. Just. My. Cock. Deep inside your cunt. In your mind. In your veins. Everywhere.”

Your eyes roll back as you’re made to concentrate on his manhood in your trembling body.

“Your pussy is hugging me so well. Make her weep around my cock. Can never get enough of your juices soaking me, baby. You always feel so good. And you deserve to feel good too.”

“Yes, daddy, I do.”

You’re floating in a warm river, his voice, his being are enveloping you. Nothing exists anymore, just him and you are left. Then he rolls his hips and it gets almost unbearably overwhelming. His cock slowly slides in and out of your sopping pussy with ease and your brain, your core, your every cell light up brightly as you already feel yourself at the precipice.

He’s fucking you gently, then gets rougher and marks you with his teeth, drinking your blood. His cock is throbbing between your walls, his hands are sliding over your breasts, twitching your nipples and playing with your clit. His face flashes in front of your eyes and you’re kissing. That’s when you feel the explosion of pure, untainted ecstasy.

“Come harder”, he commands, and you know you’re crying at how amazing you feel. It’s all happening ‘there’, somewhere deep inside you, the place so wonderful you wish you’d never leave.

At the back of your mind you know that you’re getting obsessed. Sometimes you think there’s more of him in you than you. He’s behind your eyes constantly, his handsome face with a lopsided smile flashes there over and over. You could draw it by heart now. Day after day his teeth sink deeper into your neck, his cock pierces you harder and you welcome the pain. The high is so much better after a little bit of pain.

Max is careful with you. He knows his strength and knows the effect he has on you. He’s attentive. He sees your glazed over eyes, parted lips, your breathing almost stops. You’re not here with him, you’re nowhere. You start noticing fear in his eyes when it takes longer and longer to get you out of ‘there’.

Trickles of blood are seeping from two tiny holes in your neck. Your thighs thrown widely apart, his cum is glistening at your entrance as he watches you, sitting naked between your legs. His chin and mouth are red and he’s licking his lips, not wasting a drop of you.

“Baby, look at me.” Your eyes are staring up and to the left. You’re looking at something but don’t see anything.

“Look at me!”

He orders then calls for you, nothing, again and again, you don’t respond. He slaps your cheek, not hard, just to get you back but you refuse to return to him. In your mind you’re still coming on his cock, over and over, dripping, moaning, relishing the feeling of his cum filling you up to the brim. Why would you ever go back?

Suddenly it stings. He’s slapped you really hard and your cheek is burning.

“Daddy?” You murmur, gradually coming back to reality, blinking rapidly with tears in your eyes. He’s hovering over you, his hands gripping your shoulders, his black eyes under the furrowed brows look worried and sad. Then angry.

“I couldn’t get you back! Fucking hell! You were gone for a fucking hour. It’s never been that bad.”

“It wasn’t bad. ‘s good,” You mumble while your hand flies to rub your heated cheek. Your brain is still barely functioning and your whole body is tingling after such an amazing orgasm.

“I won’t do it anymore.” He throws at you, getting off you and sitting at the edge of the bed. “Fuck this!”

Your heart freezes, gripped by the fear, and you hastily sit up. You almost fall off the bed, drunk on the amount of endorphins in your blood and then slowly crawl to him.

“Daddy, don’t say it. I’ll get back alright.”

“Yeah, what if you don’t.”

‘It’s worth it,’ you think but don’t say it. Instead you lie to him. “I’m sure I’ll always get back. It just feels so good there.”

He’s shaking his head and your stomach churns with terror.

“You told me you’d killed people for fuck’s sake! Why do you care so much about me?!” You shout and he turns to you. His pained expression makes your chest hurt. Your heart is fluttering at how handsome he is, how much you love him but love quickly morphs into hate when he threatens to take away the best thing you’ve ever experienced. You beg again and again but he’s unyielding. Finally he gets tired of your whining and leaves.

Max visits you a couple of times after that. He fucks you but refuses to command you. He makes you come on his cock or tongue and every time you cry, beg and shout, demanding to tell you to stop feeling anything except him inside you. You unravel for him again and again but it’s just not enough. Not when you’ve been there, felt that much ecstasy.

“What if I turn you?” He offers at one point.

“Will you be able to tell me what to do?”

“No.”

“Then no”.

“But we can be together forever.”

“No, daddy, please, one more time.”

He curses and leaves and then he stops coming entirely. You text, call but he doesn’t respond. Your efforts to find him are fruitless. He’s never told you the details of his life. Or you just haven’t been listening. It’s like he has disappeared into thin air, like he was just a dream.

You cry and cry, not being able to sleep, eat, feel anything else except the void in your soul and life. Max has been filling it so well and now it’s sucking you in. Without that euphoria, without him controlling you, without your ‘daddy’, you have nothing. You wish for nothing else. Mindless hookups, rebound sex, numerous strangers in your bed— nothing can give you that satisfaction.

Max left and took your life with him.

Thank you for reading!♥️ Please, comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! It motivates me a lot!!🌸

Masterlist

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag

Max tag @guelyury

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[the-kr8tor]

here’s a request if it’s okay—r desperately trying to wake hobie up. he’s okay! it’s just that mr. i hate the am needed a nap before a show and the man sleeps like a log. a dead log. a dead log that snores

Hi, bestie! I love this prompt sm! Thank you 😘 (you're so right, he does sleep like a dead log)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: Use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Hobie?” You gently poke his cheek. “Hobs? Poke “baby?” Poke “Handsome?” Said man doesn't even stir awake or to even let out a signature Hobie grunt.

After kissing every inch of his face like the sleeping beauty that he is, Hobie still sleeps on the lumpy gray armchair of the green room with no care in the world. If the circumstances were different you'd let him rest.

“Is he awake yet?” Ned peeks around the corner, bass in his shaking hand. “Please tell me he's awake, Y/N”

“Not yet, Ned. I've got him don't worry”

“I can't help but worry! We're on in five!” He bounces by the balls of his feet, audibly groaning somewhere to nervously pick at his bass. “We're fucked!” You jump at the sudden sound. “Our guitarist is fuckin' dead!”

You look at Hobie to check if the yelling got him to wake from his deep slumber. His mouth is slightly parted, snoring away. If not for his soft snores you'd think Ned was right.

Sitting on his lap, you hope the added weight wakes him up. Hobie doesn't even flinch, his head is still lolling over the armchair, fingers twitching.

“Hobie,” you tap his chest with your palm, sending out an SOS that could translate to his dream. You push out your curiosity, wondering what kind of dream he's having that got him sleeping like a log.

No dice on the tapping.

Maybe calling him by his alter ego might activate something in his brain that would wake him up?

Leaning closer to his ear, your hands are on his shoulders to prop you up, his breaths fanning your cheek. “Spider-Man” nothing. “Hey, spider”

You don't want to scream in his ear, his face twitches into a soft smile, but maybe as a last resort you would. “Spider-Man we need you”

He chokes, his snoring stops completely. For a second you thought he'd wake up. But your smile falters, growing concerned when you don't feel his chest heave up.

“Hobie!” you panic.

He opens his sleepy eyes, grabbing onto your waist instinctively. “Huh?” Hobie lifts his head up to meet your wide eyes. Relief washes over you when he beams up at you. “Hello there, gorgeous.”

“Oh thank fuck!” You lay your head over his heart, listening to the steady beating. “I thought you wouldn't wake up” your voice is muffled by his leather vest.

“Just sleeping, love.” Hobie traces your shoulder blades with his dancing fingers. “I was havin' a good dream”

You look up at him. “I would love to hear it but for now you have to get on stage. You're on in–” you flick your eyes at the clock on the wall. “Two minutes.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you instead of getting up. “It'll be the best two minutes of my life,” he leans up to meet your flustered face. “They can wait,” he said with a cocky smile, “I want my dream to come true right here.”

You meet with him halfway, smiling through the kiss as he slips his hands under your shirt to cup the small of your back.

“Christ! Can you two wait after the bloody show?!” Ned looks like he's about to burst a vein.

[runnning-outof-time]

I believe that “Are you jealous?” is the last available prompt 😅 Do your magic with it, K 🤗 With Tommy, please and happy 3.5 K 😘

Thanks for sending this in, Isa! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write it…..I hope you like the path I chose for it. This prompt was requested 3 times, so I’m trying to give it a little variety. Out of the 3 brothers, Tommy feels like he’d be the one to go about it in this way…he’s a bit of a jerk in this one. Alright, enough with the talking…Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

I’m Walking Home

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, use of derogatory word (whore), (Y/N)’s a bit unhinged in this one

Word Count: 999

Summary: (Y/N) decides to walk home after a question that Tommy asks makes her anger soar.

Tommy had had enough. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and killed the engine, setting both of his hands on his thighs as he let out a harsh sigh. “Alright…what is it?” he asked the woman sitting to his left.

“What is what?” (Y/N) responded with a curt question of her own, her eyes focused on the road ahead of them.

“You’ve not spoken a word to me since we started driving. What’s on your mind?” he elaborated on his previous question. (Y/N) snorted in response.

“Of course you’d be completely oblivious to it,” she stated, her words dripping with sarcasm. Even though she’d yet to look at him, she could still feel his heavy eyes boring into the side of her face. Her statement was met with silence, and she let it ring for a few moments before letting out a scoff. Bastard wants me to spell it out for him, she thought to herself as she relented and finally looked in his direction. “You really don’t know?” she asked, giving one last chance to redeem himself before she went off on him.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I did,” he answered her in his typical, abrupt fashion.

“You don’t recall the woman at the party?” she tried to jog his memory with a more specific question.

“What woman?” he still wasn’t helping himself.

“The woman that was practically hanging on you; the one looking for your attention? You didn’t seem to notice her? And the fact that she was giving you the ‘please fuck me’ eyes for the entirety of the conversation you were having, whilst I was present?!” she finally let the levee break, her voice inflecting towards the end to let her frustration become known.

“She was discussing business, (Y/N),” came Tommy’s terrible response.

“Business?! What part of her fucking giggles and the batting of her eyelashes had to do anything with your fucking business, Tommy?!”

“Her husband’s money is good. His investment will help our company, and she plays a big part in deciding who he gives it to. So I didn’t take notice to what her fucking eyelashes were doing because that was not of any fucking importance,” he kept his voice level, delivering his statement in a stoic way. He knew better than to rise to meet her level of anger.

“Oh and she’s got a husband!” she exclaimed dramatically, completely disregarding the second half of his statement.

“(Y/N),” there was a warning tone present in his voice now. She was blowing this out of porportion.

“She’s fucking married, and her husband cares about what she thinks before he throws his money around, but yet he doesn’t care that she’s acting like a whore in front of his potential business partners,” (Y/N) broke into a rant, not caring at that moment that she was basically disparaging a woman who she did not know.

At this point, there was nothing that could be done that would quickly clear this up. Her anger was too elevated for that. But there was something that could be said to make this situation so much worse.

“Are you jealous?” Tommy blatantly asked. His question had (Y/N) seeing red.

“Excuse me?” she asked in disbelief, shock quickly filling her features. She spoke in such a way that would usually make most people rescind their statement, but Tommy wasn’t like most people.

“You’re jealous of this woman, aren’t you?” he asked, his eyes flitting over to match hers then as he waited for her answer.

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to ask such a question outright. A scoff left her lips as she tried to find the words to respond to his statement. Her mind wasn’t computing.

A few tense moments passed before she swung the car door open. Without saying anything, she snatched her purse from the seat and made a move to exit the vehicle.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asked, acting as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on her with the last question. He honestly probably didn’t think he did.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” she snapped at him, sending a glare his way before she slammed the car door shut, not caring at all how expensive the vehicle was. And if looks could kill, there would have been a dead man inside the car with the shattered door.

(Y/N) stormed off down the road, not knowing - nor caring - where she was going. The car’s engine came to life behind her, but it didn’t make her break her step, and she didn’t dare look to her right as Tommy pulled up beside her.

“What the fuck are you doing, (Y/N)?” he asked, glancing between her and the road as he continued to drive beside her.

“I’m walking home,” she snapped back at him, still looking straight ahead, “as a matter of fact…I’m not even sure where I’m walking to, but I sure as hell know that I don’t want to be around you right now. So leave me.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Leave me,” she cut him off, finally looking at him so that she could send him one more deadly glare before she continued on her way.

Tommy put his foot on the brake and thought for a moment. There wasn’t anything more he could do now. His efforts would only make the situation worse. With a sigh, he ran his hand along the back of his head before he took his foot off the brake and continued down the road.

(Y/N) watched as the tail-lights faded off into the distance. She let out a huff and tried to calm herself down. Was she acting jealous at the moment? Yeah, probably. But she wouldn’t give Tommy the satisfaction of answering the question he so blatantly asked. She was just lucky that it was still warm out.

I’m adding taglists in reblogs in hopes that people will actually be tagged.

MASTERLIST

[beebox-illustrations]

I LOVE YOU BEE! I LOVE YOUR SUPERNATURAL FANART!!!

Please delete if you aren't interested but would you take prompts 😬 Dean is a very protective older brother and i vaguely remember an episode where he goes apeshit when sam is bullied back when they were kids (and then something similar happens in that episode). Dean is so so angry and sam is just like <i am baby 🥺> and they are very cute 😩😭

You continue to light my dash AND LIFE with just your existence thank you thank you thank you 😘😘😘

My dear @l0vegl0wsinthedark !!! Sorry it took me months to answer but I just couldn‘t think of a good scenario! Hope you enjoy this one ✨🌻

Thanks for sticking with me through the years and fandoms 🫶

On this note: Thank all of you, who send nice asks and messages and reblog my stuff with hilarious and relatable tags I really appreciate every single one 💚 (super sorry I’m so slow at answering) but I hope I can brighten some days from time to time as much as your support brightens mine on a regular basis!

Have a fantastic week guys 💚🌻

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: 😘

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s another tap on the window. You shake your head, ignoring it. Go away, go away, go away. Another comes, this one louder and you turn, ready to shout at him to leave you alone. Why is he there? Why is he bothering you? 

You spin and stop short. A little boy smiles from just over the little ledge and his dad stands behind him, his hand hovering at the window. You blink and move forward to slide open the glass. As you do, you peer around, searching for the bearded man in his button-up. He’s gone. You think. You hope. 

“Sorry, I was cleaning,” your voice tremors before it evens out, “how can I help you?” 

“What do you want, kiddo?” The man puts his hands on his son’s shoulders, “rocky road?” 

“I want choccy!” The kid demands. 

“Double chocolate or chocolate chip or chocolate brownie?” You prompt, smiling as your eyes continue to rove around, waiting for any glimpse of that man. 

“Double,” his dad answers for him, “I’ll have a scoop of praline and cream.” 

“Sounds great? Bowl or cone?” 

“Sugar cones are fine,” the man replies as he takes out his wallet. 

You go through the transaction on habit alone. The man seems slightly agitated by your twitchiness but still drops a tip in the jar. You thank him and lean out the window to see along the side of the booth. Is he gone? Really gone? 

You can’t shake his shadow. You just can’t believe he would show up like that, then act so casually. Like you’re old friends. You chatted for one year and you didn’t even know who he really was. That’s not a friendship, that’s just strange. 

You don’t close the window. You’re already nervous about having it closed for so long. Your manager takes complaints very seriously and you can’t exactly afford to drop one job when you’re considering a second. 

You check the time. Right. A couple hours. You can make it through. If you see him again, maybe you’ll call the cops. Won’t that be funny to explain? Maybe he could use the humiliation of fessing up to his betrayal. 

You don’t feel better about the back-up plan but at least you have one. Sort of. It all depends on if they even believe you. 

The after-dinner crowd begins to burgeon and you find yourself forgetting the unwanted customer for a whole line of new ones. You scoop and scrape and dish out the flavours with a faulty smile. When you’re through the rush, the tip jar is close to full. At least you had a fruitful night. 

You hope that the locals scared Andy away. Or your reaction. You don’t think he came all that way expecting that. Surely, he wouldn’t bother if he thought you were just going to turn him away. Yet why would he expect anything else? 

You really don’t understand. 

As your shift comes to an end, you’re anxious to lock up. Leaving is another matter. You can’t help but look over your shoulder as you twist the key from outside. You turn your back to the wall and wearily wade through the dark. You won’t be caught off guard again. 

You take a different route than usual. You don’t know why but it seems like a clever idea. You keep in the sheen of the street lights. You keep your phone in your hand just in case. You remember all those precautionary safety presentations they had on campus about walking home alone. 

You let out a sigh as you reach your street. Your grandmother’s house sits nestled behind the overgrown walnut tree. You feel safer in sight of it.  

You slow as you sense something off. There’s a car you don’t recognise. An SUV that doesn’t fit in the neighbourhood. He wouldn’t be there. Then you think of the flowers. He knows where you live. 

Your name makes you yipe as a shadow emerges from the silver vehicle. Your feet tangle and you stumble. Keep going or go back. Either way won’t be an escape. You stop and face him wide-eyed. 

“Please, leave me alone,” you beg. 

“Honey, please, I’m not here to do anything but apologise,” Andy strides across the street and you can’t help but shy away. “Won’t you just hear me out?” 

“No, I told you--” 

“And I sat and listened. Don’t you think you owe me the same courtesy?” He insists. 

“But-- I already told you, Andy, what you did--” 

“I know what I did,” he breathes, “I think about it constantly. Every second of every minute of every day. I think of you and I can’t get you out of my head because I know it was wrong. I can’t stand that I hurt you so bad. You don’t deserve that. After everything you’ve gone through--” 

“I only told you those things because I thought you were someone else,” you hiss, “I can’t... I can’t forget the lies. I can’t move on, alright? And honestly, I don’t think we have much in common. We’re in different places.” 

“That didn’t matter before. We got along--” 

“Because you--- you were pretending to be a teenager,” you bluster, “how old are you? Can’t you see how insane this all is?” 

He winces and his jaw ticks. In the glint of the streetlight, his eyes sockets are dark pools and his broad shoulders seem even wider, his figure even taller. You lean back on your heel and sway, looking towards you grandmother’s house. 

“It’s not... I never meant to hurt you.” 

“You did,” you shrug, “Andy, I don’t know you and you don’t know me. We were just gaming, shooting the shit, that’s whatever. The best thing you can do is get help. Talk to someone.” 

“I want to talk to you,” he says. 

“A professional,” you insist, “I’m nineteen. I can’t help you.” 

“But you did,” he snips. 

“Not how you need to be helped, okay? I’m asking you to stop. Go. It’s over. It never really was. I was friends with Jacob, not Andy. You chose that.” 

He hangs his head and heaves. You stand in silence. Slowly, you sidestep and flinch as he mirrors you. He reaches for you and you back away from him. He retracts and pushes his fingers through his hair. 

“Sorry, sorry, I just...” he croaks, “honey,” that word, again, “if I get help, will you talk to me? If I go, get some pills or something, will you just give me a chance?” 

You huff and shake your head, “Andy, there’s lots of people online you can game with. People your own age. Maybe you should try the discord--” 

“No, not them. You.” 

“Andy,” you plead, “I’m... no. No. You can’t do this. You can’t just show up and make me listen. You can’t send me flowers and come to my work and force me to be your friend. Alright? That’s not... healthy.” 

“I wanna be better. For you. That’s what I’m telling you,” he steps closer until you’re against the prickly hedges. “I wanna do everything for you. I can make your life so much better. Honey, don’t you want that? Don’t you want someone who wants you? For once?” 

You’re quiet, stunned by the insinuation, of the truth in it. 

“That’s cruel,” you whisper. 

“I don’t mean—not like that. I only, I’m trying to show you what I can give you--” 

“I don’t want anything from you,” you sniffle, “or anything to do with you. Can’t you get that through your head?” 

He staggers back as if he’s been struck. He shakes his head and stammers, “what-- why? Why not?” 

You blink, long and hard. How many times do you need to repeat yourself? You roll your eyes and turn on your heel. You brace yourself for him to follow but he doesn’t. 

His shadow looms just along the edge of your peripheral and as you turn into your grandma’s yard, you glance back. He watches you but stays where he is. He just stands there. You shiver and raise your phone, lighting up the screen, hoping he gets the idea. You could call the police. 

He takes a step back then pivots sharply. He crosses the street back to the SUV and the door slams behind him. You jump in your shoes and quickly scramble up the walkway to your grandma’s front door. You’re hoping that’s the last time you have to tell him to go away. Next time, you might just have to be mean about it. 

🎮

You try to sleep. It comes in shallow spurts that leave you more and more tired. You don’t have a shift, thank god, but you’re also not so grateful to be left without distraction. You give in to futility as the sun peers in between your curtains and you groan at the dull weight in your temples. 

You creep out quietly to make a coffee. Just instant powder so the machine doesn’t wake your grandma. You go back to your room and sit in a groggy daze, waking yourself with the warmth of each sip. You sigh out and hang your head. 

There was enough to figure out a week ago. Now, you don’t know how many problems you truly have. You’re not so certain last night got the point across, especially after the first two times didn’t work. Third time’s the charm, right? Besides, how much effort are you really worth? 

You can’t just sit still. Your eyes keep itching to look at your Switch, a now cursed item in your collection. You finish the coffee and change out of your pajamas into a pair of sweats and faded tee. You’ll catch up on some chores, keep yourself busy and grandma happy. Besides, you’re not brave enough to venture outside just yet. 

You grab your head phone and pop them over your ears and search through your phone for your cleaning playlist. You’ll start with the living room. Give it a sweep and a mop, wait until grandma’s up to do the vacuuming. Dishes next and the kitchen. Scour the fridge for the forgot produce in the back and take out the trash. You have more than enough to do. 

You wipe off the end tables then the coffee table, sorting the clutter and clearing the trash. You dust the television and the shelves of knickknacks and the ornamental fireplace against the wall. No matter what you do, there’s always a slightly dingy smell to the place. 

When the living room is decent, you move into the kitchen. You turn up your music and drown out the house around you. Dishes, floors, cupboards, cobwebs... You feel the effort in your muscles as you stretch out the kinks from your pitiful sleep. 

You’re entirely obliviously to the existence of others until your grandmother appears with a scowl, pinching your arm as she glowers in her house robe. You glance at the time. You’ve been at it for a few hours. You pull your headphones off your ears and pause your music with a tap of the button on the cord. 

“Oh, morning, do you want some coffee?” You offer. 

She’s unimpressed by your efforts as she crosses her arms. It is kind of early for her to be up. Her nostrils flare as she sniffs. 

“You better make a full pot for your visitor,” she sneers. 

You blink at her and scoff, not understanding her, “visitor?” 

Her eyes are narrowed and her lip curls, “the one who’s been pounding on my door while you’ve been listening to your racket.” She jabs an ear of your headphones, “damn woke me up.” 

“I don’t... who?” 

“Says you knew his son. The dead one,” she shakes her head, “sad, I suppose.” 

You stare at her. You hear movement in the front room, just on the other side of that wall. You glance through the archway and see a shadow shift. She’s not lying. How else would she know? 

“What did he tell you?” You breathe. 

“More than you, eh,” she snaps, “what are you doing gaping at me like a fish, I need a damn coffee. Too early for this nonsense. A dead kid, some stranger in my front room... what trouble are you getting into?” 

“N-nothing, grandma, I don’t... get him out of here. I don’t know him--” 

“He knows you. Knows your name. Says you and his boy were at school together. ‘Splains the flowers, I guess. Condolences, not that you cared, did ya?” She shakes her head, “you always were off in your own little world. Well, I’m not doin’ your dirty work for ya. You ain’t gonna be your mother if I can help it so you want him gone, you tell him you didn’t give a damn about that dead one.” 

You frown. You don’t understand why she’s so callous. She’s never shown any concern about anything but her books. It’s not your fault your parents didn’t want you. Or that she doesn’t either. You only ever begged for her attention, for a sliver of her approval. 

You blow out between your lips. You won’t argue. There’s no use in it. Besides, it’s a small house, you know he heard all that, that he knows you’re on your own. Maybe that’s why he came all this way. Because he knows you have nothing. 

[ghostchems]

hello my darling. i see your requests are back open… 👀 i've got a prompt for you if you so wish to write it… reader has been dead for decades, aimlessly wandering the halls of the ministry where no one has ever seen her, heard her or even felt her… until one day, she's walking (or y'know… floating…) through the halls and someone is walking towards her. He stops in his tracks and stares straight ahead. Then she realises…

he's staring at her… Choose a papa, any papa! Whoever you would like to write, if you choose to write it! 😘

a/n: almost 1k words of some sweetness. after reading the prompt i KNEW i had to pick Cardinal Copia 🥹 bee. thank you SO much for sending this in. hit me right in the dang feels

Loneliness has driven you to the busy corridors of the Abbey. Despite the clergy members quite literally seeing right through you, their presence around you is enough to alleviate the void inside you. You’ve had to make do over the decades but even after all of the disappointment there is still an unwavering flicker of hope that you’ll make some sort of contact. Who knew it would be impossible for a ghost to be noticed in a Satanic Ministry? Many attempts have been made, ranging from morose to macabre (floating candles vs. severed limbs) but to no avail. Perhaps there’s something wrong with you. Is your spirit not dark enough to be seen? You remember how you died and decide that can’t be the case.

You gave everything for The Olde One. The Ministry was a very different place back then.

You’re lost in the endless abyss of your thoughts until there’s a shift in energy around you. Something new. Someone new. The wisps of your ghostly train curl towards the ceiling behind you and gust of warm air blows your hair out of your face.

Oooh. A Cardinal. It’s been ages since there’s been one here, the last one being in 19—

Is he looking at you?

There’s no way but… his gaze is fixated on the space you occupy, eyes wide. He bears the Mark of The Olde One — just like the Papas, but even with the Eye no one has ever seen you. He picks up his pace, walking to you with such purpose. You feel an excitement you haven’t felt since you were alive but it’s quickly replaced with crippling anxiety. In a fit of panic you poof out of the corridor and reappear deep into the underground archives, far far away from any person. But the new Cardinal saw you. He really did. After vying for this for so long… you aren’t ready for it.

***

You’ve meandered further into more densely populated areas of the Abbey over the last two weeks after taking some time for yourself to come to grips with the fact that he saw you. Problem is now the Cardinal is nowhere to be found. The longer the week stretched the more you began to believe it was over — he must have only been visiting for the day and thus your chance at talking to someone other than yourself for the first time in 55 years has slipped through your fingers. But that same hope you’ve clung to keeps you pacing and wandering day after day, hoping to catch of glimpse of his black cassock.

One late night you find yourself perusing the library, hovering around the new releases aisle (you like to see how ridiculous the names of romance novels have gotten). The further you get down the aisle the thicker the air becomes around you, the familiar buzzing in your ear from the first time you saw him. There’s a dim light coming from one of the nooks. You steel yourself, you’re going to make yourself known like you planned. Glowing brighter than you ever have before, you float toward the light. How can a ghost have anxiety? You’d think all of those feelings would be gone but somehow you feel like you’d throw up if that were even possible. You reach the outside of the nook and suck in a sharp breath before peering around the corner.

His duochromatic eyes are on you instantly.

“Per favore — please, do not run away again.” He sounds quiet, sleepy but polite and he extends a hand out to you. “I was worried I would not see you.” You blink at him as you reveal yourself fully to him, his gaze taking you in.

“You… you really see me?” Your voice cracks, your ghost trail wiggling with how charged you are emotionally.

“Yes. I do.” The Cardinal stands, his hand still out to you. “I, ehh… I’m the new Cardinal, Cardinal Copia. What is your name?”

My name?

“You’re… you’re the only person who’s ever seen me.” Not an answer to his question at all but your brain is broken. All that time you spent hoping for this…

“Oh. Oh, poverino.” His fingertips graze your hand and you jump — he could feel you too? “Ah! I am sorry! Ehhh… what can I do? How can I help you?” Copia shuffles on his feet anxiously, making sure to keep a safe distance so that he doesn’t startle you again. Your guise is crackling, vibrating with energy, more than you’ve ever felt before. He seems… delighted by your prescience and it makes you feel warm.

“H-how? Cardinal, how?” You push in closer to him, wisps brushing against his cassock.

“Non lo so. I’ve… I’ve just always been able to.” He gives you a sad smile. “I eh… had some weird “imaginary friends” growing up. But please, you must… you must have a lot to say after spending so long only listening.” Copia may have the gentlest voice you’ve ever heard. You want to hug him especially since something about this feels deeply personal to him…but you compose yourself and instead take him by the hand as you sit on the corner of his desk.

“What do I even say now?” You laugh to yourself. “I’ve been so worried about ever being heard that I haven’t thought about what to say. What do you… want to know, Cardinal?” Even now you’re feeling shy.

He gingerly rests his hand on top of yours, a warmth spreading through you that you’ve never experienced before.

“I’ve wanted to get to know you since I saw you, fantasmina. Please, tell me about you.” Copia squeezes your hand with a kind smile. Speechless. You take a deep breath and nod.

You’ll tell him.

You’ll tell him everything.

[oceisastar]

I don’t read much dom character stuff, but I could see that’s how Sunday prefers sex (as he needs to have control) at least starting out.

Maybe service top reader with soft dom Sunday

Reader wanting to take care of Sunday (maybe they’re in love but haven’t confessed yet and this is just fwb or something) and Sunday instructing reader how to best do that

Idk I’m more of a dom but I’m trying because I love Sunday and wanted to make sure you got prompts xo 😚

MDNI {soft dom!top!reader x Sunday, emotional sex, loving relationship, hsr spoilers}

you are such a doll, thank you 😘

service top reader x Sunday is so fucking big brain like. I feel like Sunday’s need for control permeates every aspect of his life and it’s only in those moments where you’re topping him where you see the depths of his desire and how deeply he needs to be taken care of.

getting him to even admit he wants to be topped is a feat because he feels so safe having others at a distance—what’s more intimate than you fucking him? he instructs you with a clear, crisp voice, his heart pounding as you loom over him—he hopes you can’t hear it. prays you can’t.

his life has always been in service to someone else, his caretaker, robin, Ena. he needs someone to see past it all and take care of him. but he’d never admit that.

the closest he’ll get is when you’re making love to him and you hit that particular spot—he stutters, breath hitching, as he grasps at your shoulders with shaking hands and fluttering eyes, struggling to keep it together.

he needs this, desperation so raw and vulnerable it twists into a cry he can’t hold back and soon he’s sobbing in your arms. he tries to collect himself but when you kiss his forehead and fuck him harder, he has no choice but to let go and let you take care of him, even if it’s just for a few moments.

the first time this happened, Sunday became quiet, trying to maintain his composure, but each time, more and more, he began to cling to you, until he’s wrapped around you like a teddy bear, holding onto you for dear life.

no one else could understand—he wouldn’t let anyone else see him like this. but you somehow know how to break down all his walls.

[wildemaven]

1000 kisses to you and here's my 2 prompt picks for the drabble thingie: 4 and 15 with Javier

Can't wait to see what it leads to 😘

call me javi | javier peña

pairing: javier peña x reader word count: 651 content warning: mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, dancing, fluff, javier being protective and sweet, I don’t think there’s anything else note: sorry it took me so long to get to this!! I hope this works okay 💕 thanks for sending in your ask and for you support

“You're not as bad as everyone says you are.” You say loudly rather close to his ear, hoping he can hear over the booming music and crowded bar. 

It was a slow week at the embassy, which meant the DEA’s finest had a chance to let loose and enjoy themselves for once. 

Drinks flowing. Bodies grinding in tune with each song the DJ throws out, keeping the energy circulating throughout the small bar you all frequent regularly. 

Tonight would be like any other Friday with your fellow Agents, except this evening you find yourself drawn to one Agent in particular. 

His body has been firmly against yours for the better part of the evening, front and back. Hands holding you close no matter the pace of the song, selfishly worried you might drift away or find yourself in the arms of someone else. 

You lost count at the amount of times his lips brushed over your own ears. His constant need to check in with you had your chest tight and stomach full of fluttering desire. 

There was a small part of you that was feeling he might even like you. More than just a crush born from an evening of close proximity. There was never a thought that he would be, not with all the beautiful women constantly in his arms in all the years you’ve known him. 

With the way his warm brown eyes are so fixated on you says otherwise. His expression exchanged for something a little less brooding and a little more alluring. Hands still finding purchase by any means as you lean against the wall while his body shields you from onlookers. The dimly lit hallway near the back of the bar adds another layer of privacy. 

“Who’s everyone?” Javier’s voice is laced with a nervousness you’ve never heard before. The stoic demeanor he wears regularly now hangs up alongside his worn-in leather jacket. 

There’s a raspiness brought on by the pack of cigarettes he most likely blew through leading up to showing up here, even though he said he had other plans.

“Who do you think?” You smirk playfully at him, your fingers playing with the damp curls at the base of his neck. 

“Steve?” There was no need to even ask, he already knew how protective Steve was, rightfully so. Didn’t mean he still didn’t find his overbearing partner to be a pain in his ass, especially when it came to you. 

You nod in agreement, desperately trying to contain the laughter bubbling up as he huffs out  dramatically, shaking his head. The annoyance doesn’t last long though. The corners of his mouth lifting, revealing one of his best features. His smile makes you instantly weak and it has you prematurely looking forward to being on the receiving end of it forever. 

“Are you going to kiss me, Javier?” The prospect of his lips on you, in any capacity, had been overwhelming your every thought since he saddled up next to you at the beginning of the night.

Watching the way his lips formed every word he spoke. Cradling the edge of his glass on his plush lower lip as he sipped on his dry whiskey. Contorting in such a delicate way with each drag he pulled from his cigarette. 

They’re the softest lips you’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing. Excruciatingly blissful, deliberately encompassing your own, as your brain silently screams for more. 

“Javi.” Javi. It rolls off his tongue like a sweet springtime honey. Each letter electric as he says it, leaving your mouth tingling as it brands itself to your soul. 

“Hmm?” Too consumed by him to form words. 

“You can call me Javi from now on.” There’s a permanence in the way he says it, something you both have to discuss once the hangovers have worn off tomorrow. 

“Kiss me again— Javi.” And he does well into the next morning. 

[dystopicjumpsuit]

DJ MY LOVE!

May I request, from the cuddle prompts, of you feel so inspired:

- Feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling

Or

- Needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do

With Tech! Haven't asked for him in a while and I think we could all use some Tech fluff right about now.

(If you get a bunch of asks for the same Clone or just feel a pull towards another clone, feel free to change it. 😘)

A/N: REBEL MY LOVE! Thank you for this! I’ve never written Tech before, and I was a bit intimidated, so I hope I’ve done justice to our boy. Also, you get two prompts for the price of one 🩵

Pairing: Tech x Reader (GN; reader is shorter than Tech but not otherwise described, aside from having a rough morning and a tendency to keep things bottled up)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 789

Warnings and tags: fluff, cuddles, Star Wars swearing, adult language

Summary: You swear to the Maker, if ONE MORE THING goes wrong today, you’re going to lose your mind. Tech has an exceptional idea for how to help.

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Dank farrik,” you muttered under your breath.

The kriffing durang fruit you’d planned on turning into muffins had gone off. It smelled like death itself, and you gagged as you tossed it into the trash compactor. With a sigh, you glanced at your chronometer and winced.

Late. Kark. 

You snatched up your cup of caf as your brain raced to think of an alternative breakfast that you could pull together in a hurry before your scheduled holocomm. Not that Omega or the Batch really needed you to cook breakfast for them, but Benduday morning muffins had become something of a tradition, and you really, really didn’t want to see the matching disappointment in Omega and Wrecker’s eyes when you told them they would need to fend for themselves that day.

Maybe Shep has some extra—

“MOTHERKRIFFER!” you exclaimed, cutting off your own train of thought as the lid on your mug popped loose and you doused yourself in hot caf.

A quiet rustle sounded from the front of the Marauder as Tech slid out from beneath the control console and sat up to watch you, setting aside his hydrospanner. With supreme effort, you managed to keep your eye from twitching as you braced yourself for a well-deserved lecture on your language.

“Is everything all right?” he asked instead.

“Peachy,” you grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe off your shirt in disgust.

He rose quietly and approached. “I do not believe you.”

“What gave it away?” you snapped, flinging the towel into the sink with a frankly unnecessary level of force.

“You are upset. Given the relatively minor nature of the incident, I deduce that something else is bothering you. Do you wish to discuss it?”

“Not really.”

“Astonishing,” he said dryly. 

“The kriff is that supposed to mean?” you demanded.

“Merely that I have observed that you often prefer not to discuss your struggles, though I hope none of us have ever made you feel as though you should not speak freely when something is troubling you.”

You blinked, too surprised to be offended at his earlier sarcasm. “You have?”

“Indeed.”

Well… shit.

“It’s nothing,” you lied. Tech made no response, but he didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “Fine. It’s a bunch of tiny somethings that have all piled up on top of each other, and nothing is going the way I had planned, and I’m hungry, damn it, and now I have to think of something to cook for breakfast, except I have no kriffing caf left to make my brain work, and I have no other fruit to make muffins, so Wrecker and Omega are going to give me the tooka eyes, and I have a stupid holocomm that I’m expecting at literally any minute, and I don’t even want to talk to them, but I feel like I have to, and I swear to the Maker, if ONE more thing goes wrong, I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind!”

You grabbed the towel and began to scrub the sink furiously, desperate to focus on something other than the conversation that you very much didn’t want to have. After a few seconds, though, you felt a weight on your shoulder. You turned to see Tech’s hand resting there, and for a moment you were so shocked that you stopped scrubbing. He was not usually one to initiate physical contact, and you had always tried to respect his boundaries.

“Tech?” you asked uncertainly.

“I have observed that you often seem to find comfort in Wrecker and Omega's hugs when you are upset. As Wrecker and Omega are not currently present, I would like to offer my own.”

“Are you sure?” you inquired, dumbfounded. “Aren't you busy with the repairs from Omega’s last flight lesson?”

“It can wait,” he replied. “Unless you would prefer not—”

His sentence cut off abruptly as you crashed into him, burying your face against his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms closed around your shoulders, and he held your head in one hand. You slumped against him, turning your head so you could breathe.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“You are welcome,” he replied, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your ear as you rested your cheek against his chest. “I do not wish you to feel as though you must face all your struggles alone. Even the tiny ones.”

Just then, your comlink chimed with the dreaded holocomm.

“Do you wish to answer that?” he asked.

“Not really,” you admitted, “but I probably should.”

“May I propose an alternative course of action?”

“Propose away,” you replied.

“Remain with me, like this, and forget the holocomm,” he replied.

“You know what?” you asked. “That's an exceptional proposition. I accept.”

---

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@dangraccoon

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: E-Vite 4/20 [A New Hire interlude]

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Mob!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader

Word Count: 4,382

Summary: Ari’s mate finds herself invited to a brunch featuring more than just bottomless mimosas. 

Warnings: 18+ Only, Drugs, Recreational Drug Use,  Mob AU, Age Gap, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat

A/N: i’m so sorry this is so late! but (i hope) it’s worth it! takes place roughly a week or so before reader and Ari leave for Paris. a little character development i think you’ll all enjoy. divider by @firefly-graphics​. dedicated to @cocobutterqwueen​, who prompted this work ❤️

This work is entirely unbeta’d, and unedited. Though I don’t own any of Marvel’s characters, this work and the plot contained inside are entirely mine. I do not consent for this work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Enjoy 😘

You purse your lips, your brows drawing together critically as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You heave a dissatisfied sigh, brushing imaginary dirt from the hem of your white tennis skirt. 

 “Too much?” You mutter, rocking back and forth on the heels of your matching ivory sneakers. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” The silver charms on your bracelet jingle softly as you begin wiggling out of your skirt, trying to undo the hook-eye closure on the back. You aren’t expecting to see your mate there, leaned in the doorway of the walk-in closet with an amused smile playing at the edges of his full lips. 

 “Third outfit in fifteen minutes, Sweetheart. You nervous?” There’s a teasing note in his voice that makes you pout, shaking your head even though it’s obvious he’s right.  

“No, I’m not nervous.” You continue fiddling with the zipper until Ari closes his hands around yours. It’s silly, to be this anxious about meeting a bunch of people you’ve already been talking to for weeks, but you are. Joining Moms of Riverside County had been a whim. At most, you had expected to find new dinner recipes, maybe a few fun things to do with Liam. Instead, you’d found… a community? 

 Some of the members were a little out there, but there were far more good apples than bad. People posted pictures, shared memes— not pronounced “may-mays” as Ari had pointed out, to your embarrassment. There was even a group-chat, which you had recently been invited to—✨🔥 Cool Moms of Riverside County🔥✨, which had given you a good laugh. You weren’t particularly active yet, but even so you had been tagged and invited to a private brunch being hosted by one of the members you actually talked to with some regularity. 

  Come if you can! We’d love to see you! Sabrina’s casual message outside of the group chat had left you scrambling to respond last night, typing out at least thirty messages and showing them to Ari before deciding on one. 

  Okay! Thanks for inviting me, I wold love to come!

 “I-it’s just a facebook group thing.” You mumble, and he chuckles, kissing your forehead. 

 “It’s okay to be a little nervous about meeting your internet friends for the first time.” He must feel it in the bond, the electric apprehension running through every one of your limbs and down to the tips of your fingers and toes. “Just be yourself, Sweetheart. Trust me, they’ll love you.” He turns to exit the closet, but pokes his head back in. “And I like the skirt.” 

 An hour later, you’re in the Jeep on your way across town, Sabrina’s address punched into your phone’s GPS. You’re trying to think of potential conversation topics in your head, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel. You’d already checked the list of people in attendance—only ten, including you. 

  Exclusive.

 Sabrina’s house is half an hour outside of the city, nestled in the rolling hills off the highway. The private drive is blocked off by a wrought iron gate that you have to pull up to an intercom to get open. You lean out of the window, jabbing your thumb into the button. 

  “Yes? Who is it? Shh, Adrian!”

 You lick your lips nervously. “Um, it’s uh, it’s—”

  “Oh wait, I know who you are! I can see you on the camera. Come on in, girl!” The intercom buzzes loudly and the fence slides smoothly out of the way. It takes a full three minutes to get from the gate to the house, and when you pull up, there’s a line of expensive looking cars parked along the side. You take up the rear, taking a deep breath before hopping out. Gravel crunches under your feet, and as you’re heading up the stairs the front door opens. 

 “OhmyGod Hi!” You recognize Adrian from his pictures, his long dark hair piled up in a bun on top of his head. “How are you? Come in, come in,” he motions you forward with a wide smile. In one hand is a half full glass of wine, and he hugs you with the other. Underneath his rather fruity cologne is a distinctly Alpha scent, and when you pull away, you spot half a ring of teeth marks on the skin beneath his collar. 

 “Good, thanks,” you sputter, stepping over the threshold. It’s a monster of a house, the ceiling looming far above you. The air is heavy with the scent of warm sugar and brown butter, like someone’s baking. You cast a look around the foyer, there are pictures of Sabrina with her children, her husband—who just so happens to be the headmaster of Liam’s school. You toe off your shoes in the entryway, and Adrian scoffs. 

 “Oh, you don’t need to do that. Sabrina doesn’t give a shit about mud on her carpets,” he laughs. 

 “Habit, I guess,” you say, your own nervous laughter ringing awkwardly in the air with his. “I, um, have-have you been in the group long?” The questions you practiced in the car tangle confusedly together on your tongue. 

 “Like three years, I think?” He waves his hand as he shrugs. “But it got a lot more fun when Sab starting modding. Way more jokes.” He fixes you with a sly smile.  “Let’s go  get you a drink!” You tail Adrian through the house, and the sound of voices gets louder and louder as you go. The long hallway opens up into a massive kitchen, and a gaggle of people surround the marble island in the center of it, only a few of whom you recognize. 

 “Ladies,” Adrian claps his palm against his khaki-clad thigh, holding his wine glass aloft as he raises his voice to get their attention. “And gentle man,” he giggles, placing his palm against his chest, “Our last guest has arrived.” You duck your head in embarrassment as a little cheer ripples through the rest of the attendees.

 “Sorry I’m late, I think the e-vite said 4:20—”

 “Girl please.” You recognize Keisha’s fiery orange locs from her profile picture. “I just got here ten minutes ago. Sabrina! Girl where are you? You know I don’t know where you keep the glasses in this maze.” By your count, there are about seven people here, eight, including you. “Are you sure she’s the last one, Adrian? I thought Barb and Hannah were coming, too?”

 “Kayla’s got chicken pox, they cancelled this morning,” Adrian replies. “They’re fine, though, said she’s holding up well. Marathonning every episode of Bluey, apparently.” As the two of you join everyone else at the counter, Sabrina appears in the opposite doorway. 

 “Sorry, I went to get a lighter. Glasses are above the sink—hi! I’m so glad you could make it!” Sabrina is tiny, strawberry blonde curls piled on top of her head and secured with the biggest, pinkest bow you’ve ever seen. She reminds you of a Malibu Barbie—mansion and all. Sabrina rushes over to you, quickly depositing the tray of what looks like cigarette papers and lighters on the counter before hugging you tightly. 

 “Thanks for coming!” Sabrina looks genuinely happy to see you. They make room for you around the island. “I just moved here like a year and a half ago and it is so hard to make friends.”

 You let out a relieved breath. “I know exactly what you mean.” You had been nervous about coming, about whether or not you were actually going to fit-in . It feels like there are huge holes where general knowledge should be about how to act, what to say. All the culturally relevant gossip you know hit it’s expiration date a decade ago—but surprisingly, you don’t feel as terrified of that as you had been before arriving. 

 The conversation flows easily, and you finish your first glass of wine with a comfortable, warm buzz. Adrian makes it his business to serve the cooled cookies, and when you take two, he laughs. 

 “Okay, girl, I see you!” You blush as you bite down, gooey chocolate coating your tongue. 

 “I didn’t eat before I came,” you admit, polishing off the first cookie and starting on the second. “These are so good,” you add, and Sabrina preens. 

 “Thank you! I baked them myself.” Sabrina ducks down beneath the island countertop, and you hear the sound of a drawer rolling open, and then shut again. “I will admit I found the recipe online, though.” As she stands, she tosses a plastic bag of—

  Oh my God.

  Your eyes widen as the baggie of weed lands on the table, and they dart worriedly to the faces of everyone else there. No one seems surprised or upset, in fact, Keisha claps excitedly. 

 “Good,” she chirps, plucking a single paper from one of the packs on the silver tray. “I’ll roll.” 

 You shift nervously on your feet, unsure of what to do. You’ve never smoked before—the most you’ve ever done is drink alcohol, and even that you don’t do with any regularity. Ari’s beers in the fridge at home remain mostly untouched by you, and the occasional glass of wine is the extent of what you generally allow yourself. Not that you mind, really—

 You tap jittery fingers against the granite, and Adrian clucks his tongue at you. 

 “What’s wrong, babes?” His eyebrows crease with concern. “Not a joint person?” 

 “N-no?” You force yourself to calm down—these are all adults, and it’s not like it’s… illegal here, per-say. “I um, I haven’t actually ever… smoked. Marijuana.” 

 “You haven’t?” Sabrina’s gaze moves worriedly from your face to the half-eaten tray of cookies and back again. “Are you… kidding?”

 You sigh, dragging an embarrassed hand down your face. “No. Ugh, my… my parents were um. Really strict. Sorry. I’m not a narc or anything, I just, um, never really—” Sabrina grabs your hand with a soft smile and the rambling word vomit screeches to a halt. 

 “You don’t have to explain yourself at all. I just, well, I kind of thought you knew, to be honest.”

 “Knew?”

 “Yeah, it’s said 4/20 brunch, on 4/20,” she looks at you with a leading expression, but whatever reference she’s trying to make flies entirely over your head. You raise an eyebrow. 

 “That wasn’t… the time?”

 “420 means weed girl!” Adrian yelps, doubling over with raucous laughter. He rests a hand on his hip as he gasps for air. “This was a weed brunch!” You pinch the bridge of your nose, groaning. “Oh my God the cookies! You ate two of them!” Cold realization crosses your face as you turn to face them in horror. 

 “There was weed in the cookies!?”

 —

 Ari is waiting for you in the kitchen when you call—he’d been expecting you home half an hour ago, and though he wasn’t worried, he was beginning to get antsy. The bond is open—wide open, in fact—and your hazy amusement permeate it like smoke. 

 “Hi, Sweetheart. You okay?” He asks, and you giggle. 

  “ I’m good. I’m so-oo-oo good, ” you sing, drawing out the syllables. There’s a loud splash, and Ari raises an eyebrow as you gasp loudly through the receiver. 

  “Don’t drop your phone!”

 “I’m not gonna dro-op it,” you hiccough, and Ari can practically hear your pout. “She said I was going to drop my phone, but I’m not going to drop it—”

 “Kitten. What is—”

 “Can you come get me?” You say, cutting him off in a dreamy, small voice. “I don’t think I should drive. The floor is moving.” Ari pulls away from the phone, staring at it with confused, narrowed eyes.

 “The floor is… moving.” He repeats your babble, just to make sure he’s hearing it right. You heave a relieved sigh, as if he’s validated some previously held suspicion. 

 “Yes. And I really don’t think I should drive. I’m all wet.” 

 “Okay baby. Can you send me your friend’s address? I’m going to call Martine over in case Liam wakes up, and then I will come and get you.” 

 “Okay.” You hang up with no warning, leaving your confused and exasperated mate staring at his phone. It takes several minutes—and quite a few nonsensical strings of emojis—before the address comes through. 

  She’s drunk, he thinks to himself, shaking his head. A little wry smile plays at the edges of his mouth as he buckles himself into the Bentley. She has to be. He’s not upset as he turns out of the driveway, skirting generously around Martine’s car. He’s glad you’ve made friends—the tight fist your father had kept around your life has left a lasting impression, one Ari is eager to erase. 

 The traffic choking the highway eases as he circles around the city, the exit dumping him out into the rolling foothills on its outskirts. The address you’d sent him is one that takes him into familiar territory, and when he pulls up to the gate, it buzzes open before he has a chance to push the button on the intercom.

 Ari exits the vehicle, taking stock of each car lined up in the driveway—including yours. He pauses at the front steps, listening, before making his way around back instead. The sounds of music and laughter grow louder as he rounds the side of the house. Your scent is here too, cut with others and diluted by the smell of chlorine and charcoal smoke. The yard opens up before him, carefully manicured green surrounding the deeply set in-ground pool. 

 “I don’t remember inviting the mob.” An amused voice makes Ari turn, before he scoffs. 

 “You wouldn’t have to, Sabrina, you married it.” He replies, shaking his head before reaching down for a hug. “It’s been a while.” Sabrina tokes long and hard on the joint in her hand before she laughs. 

 “You’re telling me. What are you doing here?”

 “My mate is here.” Ari peers over Sabrina’s blonde head, squinting at the pool. “The one on the pizza floaty.” 

 You’re sprawled on the double-wide rubber float, chatting animatedly to a man sitting on the pool steps up to his waist. Sabrina claps her hands, loud, animated laughter escaping her grinning mouth. 

  “That’s your mate? Oh my God. I think—I think I’m gonna pee.” She doubles over, while Ari frowns down at her. “Sorry. Sorry. I just—Odd couple. In my defense, she is the sweetest person on earth, and you’re… you.” Ari purses his lips.

 “Yes, well, you’re related to me,” he says dryly. “I still don’t think you’ve forgiven me for putting worms in your hair.” 

 “I haven’t. It was disgusting.”

 “I was eight.” 

 Sabrina ignores him, flicking a honey-blonde lock over her shoulder before making her way over to the pool. She wades in, waving to get your attention. You look utterly relaxed, your limbs draped loosely across the floaty. Your fingers and toes trail in the water as a you drift. You sit up as Sabrina approaches, and for a moment, your wild hair is framed perfectly in the light of the setting sun.

  Little lioness.

 The words she speaks to you are snatched away by the wind as Ari approaches, squatting by the edge of the pool. You’re wearing a swimsuit you no doubt borrowed from Sabrina, a bikini he suspects is at least one size too small. Sliding off the edge of the pizza-shaped float, you wade over to him, a dopey smile on your face. 

 “Ari!” 

 “Hi, Kitten.” He leans down when you reach wet hands up to hug him. Ari doesn’t mind, drawing his fingers affectionately over your bare shoulders and back as he presses his face to the side of your throat. He can’t help but check. Underneath the heavy scent of the chlorine—and a light coating of weed-smoke—is your true scent. Just yours, like he’d known it would be. He kisses your forehead. You giggle. 

 “I did what you said,” you whisper loudly. “It worked! I just said, um, that I never smoked, but then I ate the cookie—two cookies, I think. Maybe more?” The story devolves into meaningless ramble that leaves Ari laughing. 

 “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Kitten.” 

 “So this is the mate.” A lanky Alpha with a joint in a rather fancy looking cigarette holder appraises Ari, his other hand resting on his hip. He offers it to shake. “Adrian. The pleasure is yours.” Ari shakes it. “We did try to keep her out of the pool but she made some very convincing arguments.” 

 “I see,” Ari replies, chuckling as you give a stout nod from the pool. “She does have a habit of getting her way.” The resulting pout that forms on your full lips is worth the half-truth. You make your way toward the pool ladder, slipping once before finding your footing. You’re sopping wet, water running in rivulets down your soft skin. Up close, the swimsuit you’re wearing is even smaller, the fabric straining to hold back the supple flesh of your breasts. 

 Ari clears his throat, and Adrian snickers. He shoots the other male an irritated look, but Adrian only grins. 

 “I packed you a to-go bag, chica. It’s in your purse. You crazy kids have a good night.” He winks, and you wave absently.

 “You too, Adrian!” You turn back to Ari. “He’s nice, right?”

 “Yeah,” he replies, dragging his eyes up from the curve of your hip where the tie is sinking sinfully into the soft skin there. “Nice. Where did you get this?” He fingers the spaghetti thin strap at your shoulder. Sabrina sidles up next to you with a knowing grin, looping her arm around your shoulders. 

 “Well, I couldn’t let her just jump in, Ari.” He levels an annoyed glare at her. “What kind of cousin would I be if I let your mate ruin her nice clothes?” You gasp exaggeratedly. 

  “Cousin?”

 “First or second, or something like that,” Ari grumbles. She laughs.

 “Remind me to tell you the worm story,” she replies conspiratorially, clapping you on the back. “You go get your clothes.” 

 “I’ll be right back,” You press a kiss to Ari’s cheek. He can’t help but watch you walk away, the damp fabric wedging itself neatly between the cheeks of your ass. God-fucking-dammit. 

 “It reeks out here,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You’d better not be turning my mate into a pothead. I don’t want to have to get into weed distribution, you know how messy that is.” Sabrina waves a hand dismissively. 

 “Nonsense. Thad’s got a great thing going on with Rogers and Barnes on the east coast. He can cut you in if you want.” She winks. “I like her, you know. Genuinely had no idea she was, um. Yours.” Ari smiles, in spite of himself. 

 “It’s hard not to love her.” 

 Ari opts to wait out front, and he isn’t out there long before you stumble out clutching your purse. Your shirt is unbuttoned and untucked from your skirt, exposing the swimsuit you’re still wearing underneath. You look up at him apologetically through your lashes.

 “Thank you for coming, Ari, I’m sorry—”

 “Don’t be, Kitten,” he chuckles, helping you down the steps toward the car. “I’m glad you had a good time.” 

 You loose a high pitched giggle. “I had so-oo much fun. S-Sabrina’s so nice! She said she wants to hang out more. And—” You gasp, turning to him with a suspicious glare. “She said you put worms in her hair.” Ari laughs, shaking his head as he opens the passenger side door. “How could you do that?”

 “I’ll bet she didn’t tell you she dumped cat litter on my head the week before,” he replies, shutting the door before you can respond. He can see that you’re talking anyway, chirping brightly to yourself as Ari rounds the front of the car. He’s not quite sure why, but the sight of it makes his heart swell, even as he shakes his head. 

 “—gross!” You finish, looking at him definitively. 

 Ari slides into the drivers seat, nodding. “It was.” 

 “Will we come back for the Jeep?” You ask in a small, guilty voice. “I like the Jeep.” Ari nods, chuckling.

 “I promise.” The stoned, dopey smile you shoot him in response makes Ari wonder just how many “cookies” you’d eaten. You slump lazily in the passenger seat, stretching like a cat as he pulls out of the driveway. You sit there, blissfully unaware of the way that fucking bikini is eating away at his nerves. You drag a hand across your bare midsection, absently playing with the loose bikini strings.

 Of course you can’t see the way the edges of your dark, puffy nipples spill just over the edges of the triangular scraps of fabric. Sabrina’s attempt to help you maintain your modesty has done exactly the opposite, leaving you so indecently exposed that Ari finds himself wondering how the soft, plump lips of your cunt even fit in the bottoms. 

  God-fucking-dammit.

 Ari knows he should be focusing on the sparsely populated road, on the hour long drive it will take to get you home— not on the way he can see the pebbled outline of your perfect fucking nipples through that flimsy excuse for a bathing suit. Ari dares to glance in your direction again and groans quietly. You’re running your hands along your bare thighs, giggling and gasping at the sensation of your palms on your own skin. 

 “Ari, I didn’t know I was this soft,” you mumble, your eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Did you know that?” 

 He scrubs a hand down his face. 

 “Jesus, Kitten, you trying to kill me tonight?” He moans, dropping his head back against the seat. You lean over the middle console, an apology already on your trembling lips. 

 “I’m sorry.” It’s like you’re completely unaware of it, the thrall you have him in as you rest a warm little hand on his thigh. “How can I make it better?” 

  Martine’s fine at the house with Liam, right?

 —

  “Oh-oh God!” Your face is hidden, pressed against the hood of the car. Ari has your trembling legs spread as far apart as he can manage, his cock disappearing between the cheeks of your ass. “F-feels— oh— ” You’re even less articulate than usual, your sopping, needy cunt squeezing down around him like a vise. 

 Ari’s got your little white skirt rucked up around your waist, and the offending bikini pulled to the side so he can watch you take him. Seeing your pussy stretched open wide and straining around the veiny length of his cock is almost as good as feeling it. Ari doesn’t resist the urge to crack the palm of one hand against the cheek of your ass. You squeal, and God the way you fucking clench down is almost enough to make him bust right there—

 “Ari!” His name sounds like a desperate prayer on your lips. You’re practically writhing underneath him, your hands forming little fists on the hood of the Bentley. “G-God, feels—” He loves you like this, the words all gibberish on your loose tongue. “Fuck!”

 He especially likes it now that you’re high, hoarse curses falling from your lips as you raise yourself up onto your tip toes trying to meet his thrusts. It’s like some of your carefully crafted filter has come apart, allowing through the Kitten that isn’t afraid of judgment or reprisal. 

 “M’so full,” you whine pathetically, peering over your shoulder at him pleadingly. “More?” He isn’t expecting your breathy, perfect little plea, and the softly uttered request seems to go straight to his cock, and it throbs hard inside you. Ari groans, his head lolling back on his shoulders as he stares unseeingly at the night sky. “More, please.”

 The knot at the base of his cock is already starting to swell, and Ari clenches his teeth. Bracing one hand between your shoulders as he anchors the other to your hip. 

 “More, Kitten?” He asks, chuckling darkly. “Greedy girl. Can you even take more?” Ari draws back until the head of his cock pops out, and he slaps it wetly against your cunt. Slowly, he presses himself into the fucked-swollen mess of your pussy. He doesn’t stop when you begin straining against his knot, murmuring dark words of encouragement. 

 “You asked for this,” he reminds you, grinning when your forehead hits the hood with a thunk, and you let out a muffled cry. Ari joins you, a harsh growl tearing from his throat as his knot pops inside. “That enough, Kitten?” He asks through clenched teeth. “Your hungry fucking pussy finally full, Sweetheart?” 

 You push back against him, a lewd squelch filling both your ears. That’s enough of an answer for Ari. He growls, clamping down on the back of your neck with one hand as his fingers sink deep into the meat of your hip. His thrusts are shorter now, but fuller , and each one leaves you mewling and crying.   His whole world is condensing down to a single point. You’re all that matters, you, this moment, his cock buried in your slick, sweet core—

 “Oh f-fuck, God, Ari, c-cumming—” The nonsense that you manage to string together only barely precedes the way your cunt clamps deliciously around him like a hot wet fist. The pleasurable buzzing in the back of Ari’s skull becomes unbearable, traveling down his spine and shooting like electricity to the base of his cock. 

 Ari groans, bending over your back to sink his teeth into your shoulder, holding you still while he cums. He still doesn’t know how to explain how right it feels to press inside you and let go—like he’s supposed to. Fuck and the feel of you—Ari groans as you shift, your velvet walls shifting against his still hard cock. He leans back, releasing you so that he can stare appreciatively at your cunt.  Lips bulged out from the heavy girth of his knot, a mixture of both your fluids leaking out around it. 

 You peek over your shoulder at him, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your eyebrows are creased together, your glassy eyes shining with real worry. 

 “Ari?”

 “What’s the matter, Kitten?”

 “I think I left my phone.” 

  end

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