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[rafayelxsylusho]

How do the lads men act when jealous Part 2

Part 1 here (Zayne/Xavier)

Finally finished this.

Enjoy pookies!

Sylus/ Rafayel/Caleb

Headers: @bc.lay on Tik Tok

You find yourself in the midst of a lively discussion with a handsome stranger at the auction Sylus had insisted on attending together. The conversation flows effortlessly between you and a charming man named Elias. He's a renowned artist, his eyes sparkling with intellect as he regales you with tales of his latest exhibition.

As the minutes tick by, you become increasingly aware of Sylus's absence. He had been by your side when you first arrived, a possessive hand resting on the small of your back as he steered you through the crowded room. But now, as you laugh at one of Elias's jokes, you realize you haven't seen him in quite some time.

You glance around the room, scanning the faces of the guests, but there's no sign of Sylus.

Elias leans in closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. "You know, I have a feeling you and I have much more in common than just a love of art. You think that maybe... I can get your number?

"Do you value your ability to breathe without a tube down your throat?"

Your heart leaps in your throat at the sound of that voice. You recognize it instantly.

Elias's eyes widen and he takes a small step back from you, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"Easy there, Sylus," Elias says, his charming smile fading into a strained grin. "No need for threats. I was just being friendly."

Sylus steps into view, his dark silhouette looming behind you. His broad shoulders straining against the fabric of his tailored suit jacket. His eyes are fixed on Elias, a dangerous glint in their depths.

"Friendly?" Sylus repeats, a note of amusement in his voice. "Is that what you call it?" His gaze flickers to you for a moment, his expression softening almost imperceptibly before hardening once more as he turns back to Elias. "I've seen how friendly you can get"

Sylus takes another step forward, closing the distance between them. Elias swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He glances at you, then back at Sylus, and you can see the calculation in his eyes as he weighs his options.

"Look, I didn't mean any disrespect..."

"You're not worthy of so much as a single digit of her phone number. I suggest you forget you ever met her, and move along before I lose my patience entirely."

Elías clears his throat awkwardly and takes a step back "Well, it was... nice chatting with you," he says lamely, before turning and melting into the crowd, leaving you alone with Sylus.

"Was that really necessary? I was just about to say no Sy"

His thumb brushes across your lower lip, the gesture almost tender if not for the harsh set of his mouth. "Let's get out of here. I have far better plans for us tonight."

With that, he takes your hand, his grip unyielding as he begins to steer you towards the exit. His anger is palpable, but there's something else you can't quite name.

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As you walk to your room Sylus can't help but notice the shift in your mood. The lively sparkle in your eyes from earlier has been replaced by a troubled look. He watches as you walk ahead of him, your shoulders slightly slumped, your steps hesitant.

Closing the door behind you Sylus sets his jacket down on a nearby chair before turning to face you. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, his brow furrowed as he studies your face with an intensity that makes you squirm slightly.

"Talk to me," he says finally, his voice cutting through the heavy silence of the room. "What's bothering you?"

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before you speak. "Sylus, I need you to listen to me for a moment. There was no need for you to behave like that back at the auction. You embarrassed Elias in front of everyone."

You shake your head, a flicker of disappointment in your eyes. "An arrogant display like that, threatening him just for talking to me? It was completely uncalled for."

Putting your hands on your hips, you level your gaze at Sylus, your voice firm but calm. "I understand that you want to protect me. But you can't go around intimidating people who cross an imaginary line in your head."

He takes a step closer, invading your personal space. He towers over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the light. His voice is low and tight with barely contained anger when he speaks.

"I've known Elias for years, sweetie. He's a womanizer, plain and simple. I've seen that predatory look in his eyes before, the one he gets when he sets his sights on a new conquest. And tonight, he had it directed at you."

His eyes burn into yours, the red irises seeming to glow with the force of his possessiveness "He knew you were with me. I made sure of that when I introduced you earlier. But he didn't care, did he? No, he just saw a beautiful woman and decided he wanted to add you to his list of fucks."

You plant your palms firmly against his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. You push back against him, your voice steady and unwavering as you meet his intense gaze head on.

"I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I've been doing it for years before I even met you."

Your eyes flash with a spark of determination and a hint of annoyance. "I'm a Deepspace Hunter, Sylus. I've faced down Wanderers, I've battled for my life and the lives of others. I think I can handle a little flirtation from a guy like that"

A sly smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you tilt your head. "Or, and hear me out on this...maybe you were just jealous. Green as the hills, if you will."

You lean in closer, your lips nearly brushing against his as you whisper teasingly, "Is that what this is really about? You couldn't stand the thought of Elias looking at me like that because you want to be the only one with the right to crave me like that?"

Your fingertips walk playfully up his chest, tracing the line of his collarbone. "You know, it's okay to admit it. Jealousy doesn't make you weak, it makes you...human. It means you care, deeply and intensely and maybe just a little bit possessively."

You nip lightly at his bottom lip, your voice a low purr. "So go on, Sylus...admit it. Because I think that's exactly what happened back there. And you know what? It's okay. I can handle a little jealousy, as long as it comes from the right man."

"Lie down" he orders

You don't move, still processing his words, but you see his hands undo his pants then push them down his hips.

"Kitten, lay down on that fucking bed right now."

As you settle against the silk sheets, he finishes removing the last of his clothing, his shirt and underwear dropping to the floor. His erection springs free, long, hard and already leaking at the tip.

Your whispered "Oh god" reaches his ears. Sylus grins, stalking towards the bed until he looms over you. He leans down, one hand braced on either side of your head as he settles between your thighs.

"You sure you want to feed my ego like that? You already think I'm an arrogant asshole and the way you are staring at my cock is about to make me insufferable"

He rolls his hips slowly, his hard length brushing against your thigh through the thin fabric of your dress. The friction makes him groan softly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

You sit up and his eyes darken as he watches you strip, his gaze roaming greedily over every inch of skin you reveal. When you reach for the lace tops of your stockings, he stops you "Keep those on."I want to see you in nothing but those. Want to feel the lace against your soft skin as I fuck you."

His large hands grip your hips tightly, flipping you over onto your hands and knees with a sudden, dominant move. Before you can react, he's running his palms over the curves of your ass, squeezing and kneading the supple flesh.

"Fuck, your ass is perfect," he growls, his fingers digging into your skin as he spreads your cheeks apart

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks "I want to see you arch your back for me. Want to watch this ass lift up and beg for my cock as I take you from behind."

One hand slides around to the front of your body, his fingers pushing your panties aside to stroke through your folds and then without warning, he grips the fabric and yanks hard, the material tearing away easily in his strong grasp. The cool air hits your now bare sex as you feel the rough lace scrape against your skin for a brief moment before it's ripped away completely.

"Sylus!" you cry out in surprise and a hint of pain. Your hips jerk forward instinctively and red marks bloom on your hipbones.

"Ass up, kitten," he commands, before you can react, he's pushing your upper body down against the mattress, leaving your back arched and your ass high in the air.

You feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and then with one hard thrust, he's burying himself inside you to the hilt. Your gasp of surprise mixes with his low groan of pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Sylus grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in.

"You're so fucking big Sy"

"But you take it all like a good girl, don't you?"

You feel him set a hard, fast pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He leans over your back, his chest pressed against you as he fucks into you relentlessly.

"Fuck, can you feel me deep inside your hot little cunt? Gonna fill you up until I run down those pretty stockings."

He feels your walls clench tight around his cock when he rubs your swollen clit. "Fuck, that's it. You're getting close, aren't you?"

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Come on my cock, kitten."

But that's not your plan.

He growls in frustration as you slip his cock out of your dripping pussy, tight walls clenching around nothing. He grabs you roughly by the waist, dragging your pleasure drunk body back against his chest. "No, no, get that sweet cunt back on my dick," he demands.

But you ignore his command, instead dragging your hand down to plunge your fingers deep inside your aching, empty core. You pump them in and out, fucking yourself with wild abandon, chasing the release that Sylus's relentless pounding brought you to the brink of.

"Fuck, Y/N I swear to god..."

Sylus watches in awe and disbelief as your body jerks and writhes against him, your back arching as you bring yourself to a shattering climax. He can feel your moan in his stomach, your pussy clenching and fluttering around your fingers as you cum hard.

" Are you kidding me?"

You laugh, pat his cheek, peck his lips and move away when he tries to kiss you deeply.

"Thank you, that was so good Sy"

He watches as you stand and stretch languidly. He licks his lips, practically drooling at the delicious image you make.

"Oh, so we're playing now, are we kitten?" He chuckles, he grips his thick shaft and pumps it slowly, teasingly. "You wanna watch me touch myself?

He spreads his legs wider, giving you an unobstructed view of his muscled body and the way his hand works over his huge, throbbing erection. "I could watch you watch me all day, sweetie."

Sylus's tongue darts out to lick his lips, his gaze never leaving yours as he pleasures himself. "You want to help, don't you kitten? Wanna wrap your lips around the head and suck me deep?"

He climbs off the bed and tosses a pillow at your feet as he stalks towards you. "For your knees, it's a hard floor"

The musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils as you kneel before him on the pillow, your eyes level with his throbbing erection. He positions his painfully engorged cock in front of your face, the swollen head glistening with a bead of precum.

Fisting his cock he aims it at your lips and asks "May I?"

You hear him groan deeply when you nod and open your mouth, your pink tongue out and ready.

He pushes forward, the swollen head of his dick slipping past your lips and settling on your outstretched tongue. "Ungh, yes..." He throws his head back with a guttural moan as he hilts inside you, your nose pressing against his pelvis. 

"I could live inside your mouth, buried deep in your throat. Be a good girl and make me cum"

He hisses in pleasure as you gurgle and moan around him. Tears stream down your face as he fucks your throat raw, his thick cock pounding in and out, stretching your lips around his girth. You taste the salty tang of his skin, feel the hot, hard flesh throbbing against your tongue.

"I'm cumming!" Sylus grunts, his voice tight with strain as his hips stutter and still. He tries to pull back, but your hands grasp his ass, holding him deep inside as you feel his cock pulse and jerk.

The sensation of your teeth accidentally scraping his sensitive flesh sends Sylus over the edge. His hot, thick cum shooting down your throat in spurts. You swallow, gulping down every drop of his release, feeling it coat your throat and slide into your belly.

As the last weak spurts of cum dribble from his spent cock, you pull back, gasping for air. Sylus's thumb traces up the column of your throat, feeling the way it works as you swallow the remnants of his load.

"Greedy, feisty kitten," he praises with smirk, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath.

His strong arms scoop under your elbows, easily lifting you up from your kneeling position. He holds you close, your naked body pressing against his. "Now, how about you let me cum inside you this time, kitten?"

"I think that one is the best tonight" a deep, smooth voice startled you from behind. 

You were admiring Rafayel's breathtaking artwork adorning the gallery walls, you've seen them, but somehow they looked different here.

Slightly caught off guard, you turned to face the man, taking in his handsome features and the way his eyes, as blue as the ocean on a clear day, seemed to sparkle with enthusiasm as he spoke about Rafayel's paintings.

The man introduced himself as Liam, an art critic with an impressive resume and an even more impressive knowledge of the art world.

As the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for Rafayel. His gift was truly remarkable, and it was clear that others recognized and appreciated his talent as much as you did. Liam talked to you about Rafayel's rise to fame, his groundbreaking exhibitions, and his ability to command astronomical prices for his one of a kind pieces.

As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you.

" I see you've met my wife"

You see Liam's eyes go wide as he flashes a smile "Oh wow, I... I didn't know you two were married"

You look over your shoulder to Rafayel with a scowl before returning to Liam "We are not, he is kidding, we are just friends"

"Like hell we are, that's not what you were saying last night when my tongue was in your..."

Rafayel's smirk only grew wider as your hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his words. He let you drag him away, stumbling slightly as you pulled him down a long, dimly lit hallway of the art gallery.

"You're such a tease, you know that?" he mutters against your hand, his hot breath tickling your skin.

His hand finds yours, fingers interlocking as he allows you to lead him deeper into the gallery, away from prying eyes and ears.

As you walk, his gaze rakes over you, hungry and intense. You can feel the heat of his stare, the way it lingers on the curve of your hip, the sway of your ass. It's a tangible thing, a physical caress that makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

You walk into a small office and close the door behind you, the air is thick with the scent of oil paints, turpentine, and something else, something musky and masculine. Rafayel's scent, you realize, your heart pounding in your chest as he backs you up against a wall, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head.

"Friends, huh?" he murmurs "Is that really what you want people to think?"

"Thomas is gonna be looking for you"

"Fuck Thomas. Fuck the gallery. Fuck everything else."

His hands slide down the wall to your hips, gripping them possessively as he pulls your body flush against his.

One hand moves from your hip to your thigh, his fingers dance along the sensitive skin. He teases, he taunts, drawing out the anticipation until you're squirming against him, desperate for more.

Then, without warning, his hand is under your dress, his fingers seeking out your most intimate place. They find your core, slick, swollen and aching for his touch.

"Do you drip down your thighs for all your friends?" He pinches your clit, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers. Pleasure explodes through you, making your back arch and your toes curl in your shoes. Your eyes flutter shut, your head falling back against the wall as a broken moan escapes your lips.

"I don't think you do," Rafayel murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. "Because this mess, it's all for me cutie.

He pushes two fingers deep inside you, pumping them in and out, fucking you with his hand. "Does it feel like I'm your friend," he rasps, "when I bury my face between these thighs and eat this sweet pussy like it's my fucking job?" His fingers pump faster, harder, the sound of your arousal filling the small office.

"Or maybe," he continues, his other hand sliding up your body to roughly palm your breast, tweaking your nipple through the thin fabric of your dress, "when you're bouncing on my cock, taking every thick inch like you were made for it, screaming my name as you cum harder than you ever have in your life..."

He leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. "Is that friendship bonding?"

"Fuck" he growls, his hips rocking forward to grind the rigid length of his cock against your thigh. "You squeeze my fingers just like you squeeze my cock when I'm buried deep inside you"

He moves his fingers faster, harder, his thumb presses down hard on your clit, rubbing merciless circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"You're so fucking wet, cutie," Rafayel pants "I can feel it coating my hand, dripping down my wrist. Is that for me, y/n?

He leans down, lips latching onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting at the tender flesh.

He wastes no time, his desperation palpable as he yanks you towards the desk. The room spins briefly as he spins you around and bends you over the edge, your stomach pressing against the cool, smooth surface. Your skirt is flipped up and over in one swift motion.

He yanks down his zipper, freeing his fat cock. It springs out, slapping against your inner thigh, leaving a smear of precum on your skin.

His hands grip your hips as he positions himself. His chest presses against your back, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as he leans down to murmur in your ear.

"Can I fuck you?" he asks "Can I fuck you properly, cutie?

Your hands reach for the edge of the desk, gripping it tightly as you nod. Your body trembling with need, your core clenching and fluttering around nothing, aching to be filled by him.

"Please," you breathe out, arching your back to push your ass firmly against his hips.

Rafayel pulls your panties to the side and hilts himself inside you with one thrust, burying his thick cock to the base of your needy cunt. He stands still for a moment, his hips flush against your ass, allowing you to feel every throbbing inch of him pulsing deep within your core.

As he remains motionless, your hips start to move on their own accord, rocking back against him, desperate for friction, for stimulation, for more. The desk creaks beneath you with the force of your movements, the sound mingling with the ragged pants and moans spilling from your lips.

"Please Raf..." you whimper. Your walls clench around his shaft, trying to keep him deep inside you.

Rafayel chuckles "Please what, cutie?" he teases, his hips still unmoving, his cock throbbing but unmoving inside you. "What are you begging for? You're the one fucking me."

His hips start to move, pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

"When I'm pounding this tight cunt, claiming this pussy as mine, it's not friendly fucking," he growls, punctuating his words with sharp snaps of his hips. "This is me showing you who you belong to. This is me reminding you that..."

He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub. "It's all fucking mine. You're mine Y/N. This is me taking what's already mine."

The office door handle jiggles and Rafayel's eyes flash with a thrill of danger. He grins at the interruption, not slowing his relentless pace for a second.

"Maybe it's that hot shot critic, maybe he heard you. That would make things clear for him"

Your body jerks forward from the force of his thrusts, a desperate moan tearing from your throat. "So let them hear, let the whole fucking world know"

Rafayel feels your body tense and then shudder violently as his words and the relentless pounding of his cock finally push you over the edge. Your walls clamp down on him, rippling and fluttering as you come undone.

Rafayel looks down, his eyes dark and wild with lust as he watches your clench around his cock.

Then, he sees it. The creamy ring forming at the base of his shaft where your tight cunt is stretched around his thick girth. It's too much, too fucking perfect. With that Rafayel loses control, slamming into you one last time as his cock jerks and pulses inside you.

He grinds his pelvis against your ass, making sure to push every last drop deep inside you.

He slowly pulls out of you, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the sensation of your walls clinging to his softening cock. As he takes a step back, he looks down at your trembling body bent over the desk, your thighs glistening with the combined essence of your mutual pleasure.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans down, trailing a finger through the creamy trails dripping down your skin.

"Such a perfect piece of art," he murmurs, his voice low and awed. "Look at you, cutie. Look at the fucking masterpiece we've created."

He brings his finger to his lips, sampling the tangy flavor of your joining, his eyes never leaving your body. "Maybe I should put you out there, just like this, as my magnum opus, a live exhibit," he continues, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, smearing a dollop of his release there.

His hand cups your chin and tilts your face up to meet his eyes. "Wouldn't that be a sight, cutie?

Your heart clenches as you stare at the paused video on your phone screen, the beautiful woman's smiling face frozen beside Caleb's. An unfamiliar, bitter taste coats your tongue, jealousy, you realize with a start. You swallow hard, trying to dislodge the uncomfortable feeling lodged in your throat.

Caleb's laughter echoes in your mind. That laughter, that beautiful, rare sound, belonged to you. Only you. And seeing it, hearing it, directed at someone else... it feels like a betrayal.

You know you shouldn't feel this way. Caleb is your partner in every sense but one. You've shared everything together since childhood ,laughter, tears, secrets, dreams. But this... this hollow ache in your chest, this burning in your throat... it's new. Terrifying.

Still, as you sit there, gripping your phone like a lifeline, you can't help but wonder... what if Caleb sees her as more than just a friend? What if she sees him the same way you... the way you... can't stop yourself from seeing him?

Your heart sinks as you refresh the page again and again, desperation clawing at your throat. Gone. Vanished like a ghost. The video, your proof, your reason to feel this way... erased without a trace.

A hollow emptiness settles in the pit of your stomach as you toss your phone aside, no longer caring when it clatters onto the cold hardwood floor. It's fitting, really. Just like everything else that matters to you, it's slipping away.

Your mind replays the fleeting images from the video on an endless loop. Caleb's smile, her smile, their laughter. The way she leaned in close to whisper in his ear. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. The way your heart shattered into a million jagged pieces.

A single tear slips down your cheek, followed by another. And another. Until they're falling in earnest, silent cries of a soul in agony. A soul that yearns for a love it can never have. A love that's slipping away, like grains of sand through an hourglass.

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You wake to the familiar buzz of your phone on the nightstand, your heart leaping with a foolish hope before you remember. Last night, Gideon's video, the hollow ache in your chest... it all comes rushing back like a bitter tide. He didn't text you last night. Not a single word, not even the usual goodnight message that you've come to expect and secretly crave.

You roll over and grab your phone, staring at the screen as it blinks with an incoming message.

A new message from Caleb. Just like every other morning. Just like clockwork.

Good morning, pipsqueak. Did you eat breakfast already?

You stare at the message and you answer, you always do.

Just waking up now. You know I'm not a morning person.

You hit send before you can overthink it, before the bitter taste of jealousy can creep back into your mouth.

You busy yourself with the mundane tasks of getting ready, trying to push away the lingering ache in your chest. You choose an outfit on autopilot, not really caring what you wear. A simple t-shirt and jeans will have to do.

You get another message and you glance at your phone, expecting to see Caleb's name flashing on the screen. But instead, you find a message from Tara. You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the notification. Going out isn't really your thing, not with everything that's been weighing on your mind lately.

Hey girl! Wanna hit up that new club downtown tonight? I heard it's lit af. ;) What do you say, bestie?

You stare at the message, reading it over and over again. Normally, you'd decline. Make up some excuse about being tired or having too much work to do. But tonight... tonight you need a distraction. Anything to get your mind off things.

Before you can overthink it, you type out a reply, your fingers moving on their own accord.

Sure, why not. Count me in. ;) Pick me up at 7?

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You step back from the full length mirror, your eyes traveling the length of the dress Tara lent you. It's a shimmering midnight blue number, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places. But it's the length, or lack of that has you second guessing this entire idea.

The hemline sits dangerously high on your thighs, barely grazing the tops of your legs. It's a far cry from your usual casual attire of jeans and t-shirts. You're not used to showing so much skin, to feeling so exposed.

As if sensing your hesitation, Tara appears behind you in the reflection, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. She places her hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently.

"You look smoking hot! Why the long face?" she asks, her brow furrowing in concern.

You bite your lower lip, worrying it between your teeth. "I don't know, Tara. I just...I'm not used to wearing something so...revealing.

Just tonight y/n," Tara reassures you "You deserve to let loose a little after all the hard work you've been putting in. A night out with the girls will do you good."

You know she's right. It has been a while since you last went out and had some real fun. Work has consumed most of your waking hours, and the rest has been spent...thinking about him. Him and her. Him and his laugh that wasn't meant for you.

Lost in thought, you hardly register the short walk to Tara's car. Before you know it, you're sliding into the passenger seat, the leather cool against your bare thighs.

As Tara pulls out onto the main road, you suddenly remember something. Or rather, forget something. You reach for your phone instinctively before remembering that you left it on Tara's dresser.

"Crap, I forgot my phone," you groan.

Tara glances at you, one eyebrow arched. "Do you want to go back and get it?" she asks, already slowing down to pull over to the side of the road.

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. In the end, you shake your head. "No, it's okay. I think I'm good without it for one night"

You settle back into the leather seat, watching the city lights blur past the window as Tara speeds towards the new club downtown.

As the night goes on, you find yourself getting lost in the music, the pulsing beats vibrating through your body as you dance with your friends. The alcohol buzzes warmly in your veins and for a few hours, you allow yourself to forget. To forget the jealousy and heartache that's been consuming you.

You're sandwiched between Tara and another friend, the three of you bouncing and swaying in sync to the pounding beat. Suddenly, a cute guy with a charming smile appears in front of you.

"Hey there," he shouts over the music, leaning in close so you can hear him. "I'm Jason. Wanna dance?"

He extends a hand, his smile widening. Normally, you might have been hesitant, or even said no. But tonight, with the alcohol coursing through your veins and the music pumping you up, you find yourself nodding.

"Sure," you reply, taking his hand and letting him pull you closer.

As the two of you begin to dance, you feel a flicker of excitement. It's nice, being desired. Being wanted. Even if it's not by...him. You push the thought away, refusing to let it ruin this moment.

Jason is a good dancer, his movements confident. He spins you around, pulling you back in close, his hands resting on your hips. You find yourself laughing, the music and the moment overwhelming you in the best way possible.

For a brief instant, you allow yourself to imagine that this could be more than just a dance. That this cute guy could be someone you could see yourself with. But then reality sets in, and you remember the truth:

Your heart belongs to someone else. Someone you can never have. No matter how hard you try to forget, how much you drink, or how many cute guys you dance with.

The room spins as you feel Jason kiss you, his lips foreign and unfamiliar against your own. Your eyes flutter closed, trying to lose yourself in the sensation, desperate to forget the man who truly owns your heart. But as you press your mouth harder against his, you realize that this kiss...it's all wrong.

His lips are too thin, not soft and plush like...like Caleb's. The shape is different, the feel of them unfamiliar. And his breath...it doesn't smell like sweet apples.

A pang of disappointment shoots through you as the realization hits this isn't the kiss you've been dreaming of. This isn't the man you've been longing for. This is just a cruel imitation, a poor substitute for the real thing.

You pull back, breaking the kiss abruptly. Jason looks startled for a moment before a confused frown crosses his face. You open your mouth to say something, to apologize or explain, but no words come out.

Instead, you feel a wave of nausea roll over you, the alcohol you've consumed churning uncomfortably in your stomach. You stumble back from Jason, pressing a hand to your mouth as you try to hold back the urge to vomit.

"Excuse me," you mutter, not meeting his eyes as you turn and push your way through the crowd on the dance floor.

You make it to the bathroom just in time, collapsing in front of the toilet and retching violently. Tears stream down your face as you empty the contents of your stomach, the bitter taste of regret and self loathing coating your tongue.

You splash some cold water on your face, staring at your reflection in the mirror, eyes red and puffy, your makeup smeared from crying and the heat of the club. But looking back at you is the face of a girl who's in love with someone she can never have. A girl who's trying desperately to forget, but failing miserably.

You stumble out of the bathroom, still feeling shaky and off balance.The last person you expect to see tonight is standing right there in front of you, his tall frame unmistakable even in the low light.

Caleb.

He's dressed in button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dark jeans that hug his muscular thighs. His hair is slightly tousled, like he's been running his fingers through it in agitation. And his eyes...his eyes are fixed on you, a stormy violet that betrays his emotions.

Your eyes widen in shock as Caleb strides towards you, his long legs eating up the distance between you in just a few quick steps. Before you can react, he's upon you, his large hands gripping your waist. In one almost effortless motion, he hoists you up and over his shoulder, leaving your head dangling down his back.

"Caleb!" you yelp, instinctively grabbing onto his shirt to steady yourself. "What are you doing? Put me down!"

But he ignores your protests, his grip on your thighs tightening as he turns to stalk out of the club. Tara watches in stunned silence, her mouth hanging open.

"Oh, hey Caleb," she starts to say, but he cuts her off before she can finish.

"Do you have a way to get home safely?" he asks, his voice low and gruff.

"Yes," Tara replies, her eyes flicking to you in confusion and a hint of concern.

Without waiting for her to finish, Caleb starts walking, carrying you through the crowded club. You bounce and jostle with each step, your dress riding up dangerously high on your thighs. You can feel the cool air on your exposed skin, the fabric of his shirt rough against your cheek.

"Caleb, stop!" you cry, pounding your fist against his back. "You can't just take me like this! I can walk on my own."

But he remains silent, his jaw clenched tight as he pushes through the crowd. You catch glimpses of the curious stares and whispers as he passes.

Soon, the loud music fades behind you as Caleb bursts out of the club and into the cool night air. The sudden change in temperature makes you shiver, and you instinctively press closer to the warmth of his body.

He doesn't stop until he reaches a sleek, black car parked at the curb. With a grunt, he yanks open the passenger door and unceremoniously dumps you onto the leather seat. You land with a thud, the breath knocked out of your lungs temporarily.

Before you can scramble away, he's sliding into the driver's seat beside you, slamming the door shut. The sound of it clicking closed makes you jump, and you shrink back against the far window, eyeing him warily.

"What the hell, Caleb?" you demand, your voice shaking slightly from the cold and the shock of being so abruptly kidnapped. "Why did you just do that? I can't believe you!"

He doesn't respond right away, his grip tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. The engine hums loudly in the tense silence between you as he starts driving.

Finally, he slams on the brakes, the car jerking to a halt. He turns to face you, his eyes blazing with an emotion you can't quite place anger, jealousy, pain?

"Did you enjoy it?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Did you enjoy what you were doing back there with him?"

You glare back at Caleb, your eyes flashing with anger and defiance. "I was enjoying every second of it," you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "In fact, I'm thinking of going back again. Maybe I'll let him kiss me again, maybe I'll let him do even more than that"

You feel a surge of anger rising up inside you, your cheeks flushing hot with both fury and humiliation. How dare he accuse you like this, demand answers to questions he has no right to ask? He had no right to drag you out of there like some kind of caveman!

"Did you enjoy his attention?"

"Did you enjoy hers?" 

"So this is what all of this is about?"

"Did you?"

"I hated every second of it"

You grip the edge of your seat as he speeds off, the car lurching forward and the rest of the way home is silent.

Once you get home you step out of the car, not waiting for him to open your door. You walk ahead of him, your heels clicking loudly against the pavement as you cross the parking lot to your apartment building. The cool night air nips at your bare legs, but you barely feel it. You're too focused on the man following close behind you

You can feel his gaze burning into your back, hot and intense. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

As you approach your front door, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the handle. You know you should say something, should try to diffuse the tension that's building between you. But what can you say?

You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. He's standing close, too close, his broad shoulders taking up almost the entire doorway. He's looking down at you, his eyes dark and stormy, his jaw clenched so tightly you think he might break his teeth.

"Caleb..." you start, but the words die in your throat. 

His hand comes up, his fingers brushing against your cheek. You lean into the touch instinctively, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When you open them again, he's looking at you with a mix of anger, jealousy, and something else... something softer.

"Just... go inside," he says quietly. "Before I do something we'll both regret."

You barely make it inside before the nausea hits you again and you run to the bathroom. Once again falling to your knees in front of the toilet, you retch, your stomach churning as you empty its contents. Tears stream down your face, mingling with the drool and sweat as sobs wrack your body.

Behind you, you hear the click of the bathroom door closing, and then the sound of Caleb's footsteps on the tile floor. He doesn't say a word, but you feel his presence looming over you, as solid and comforting as it always was when you were a kid.

His hands gather your hair, pulling it back from your face and holding it out of the way as you continue to heave and retch. Just like he used to do when you were little and got sick after eating too much ice cream.

The memory makes you cry even harder, great gulping sobs that hurt your chest and burn your throat. You're suddenly transported back to those simpler times, when all you needed was Caleb to make everything better. When he was your rock, your protector, your best friend in the whole wide world.

Why did things have to get so complicated? Why did falling in love with him have to ruin everything? You were happier before, when you could just be with him without all this fear and longing and heartache.

You're dimly aware of Caleb shifting behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up as the last of the sickness leaves your body. He rubs your back in soothing circles, just like he used to, crooning soft words of comfort into your ear.

"Shh, I've got you," he murmurs, his voice low and deep and so achingly familiar. "I'm here, pipsqueak. I'm not going anywhere."

You let Caleb help you brush your teeth, rinsing the bitter taste of sickness from your mouth. He hands you a glass of water and a couple of pills, no doubt for the headache that's starting to throb behind your eyes.

Without a word, you take them, swallowing them down with a few gulps of the cool water. Caleb watches you silently, his expression unreadable.

When you're finished, he takes your hand and leads you back out to the bedroom. The room spins slightly as you walk, and you have to lean against him for support. He steadies you easily, his arm wrapping around your waist.

At the bed, he pauses, letting you sit down on the edge of the mattress. You watch as he pulls back the covers, the sheets smooth and cool and inviting. He helps you lie down, tucking the blanket around your shoulders like you're a child.

You settle back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted by the events of the night. Caleb stands over you, looking down at your face. In the moonlight filtering through the window, his expression is soft, almost tender.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead. His fingers linger, tracing the curve of your cheek, the line of your jaw. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

"Sleep now," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be here when you wake up."

You believe him, because you've always believed him. Because he's always kept his promises, no matter what. Even when the world felt like it was falling apart around you, Caleb was your constant, your safe haven, your home.

With a sigh, you let yourself sink into the mattress, the exhaustion pulling you down into a deep sleep. The last thing you hear before everything fades to black is the soft click of the bedroom door as Caleb steps out, giving you privacy and space, just like he always does. Just like he's always done. Even in sleep, you reach for him, your hand searching for the warmth and solidity of his body. But that side its empty, the sheets cool and smooth and untouched.

You wake with a start, your heart pounding in your chest. The sheets beneath you are damp with sweat, tangled around your legs. For a moment, you're disoriented, unsure of where you are or how you got here.

Memories of the night before come rushing back, the club, Caleb's fury, the sickening nausea that left you weak and shaking. You shiver as a chill runs through you, the cold sweat on your skin making you feel clammy and unclean.

Slowly, you sit up, pushing the damp hair out of your face. Your mouth feels dry, your tongue thick and furry. 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, standing up gingerly as a wave of dizziness washes over you. You grab onto the edge of the bed, waiting for it to pass before taking a tentative step forward.

As you creep towards the door, you suddenly remember Caleb's parting words. He said he'd be here when you woke up. You hadn't been sure what to make of that at the time, too tired and miserable to think it through. But now, a flicker of worry ignites in your chest.

You slip out the bedroom door and into the darkened living room. At first, you don't see him. The room is small and cramped, filled with the detritus of your life. Clothes are strewn over the back of the couch, empty cups and plates litter the coffee table. It's a mess, a reflection of the chaos inside your head.

But then you see him. He's stretched out on the tiny sofa, his long legs dangling off the edge, his broad shoulders hunched to fit the too small space.

You step closer, your heart starting to pound for a different reason now. Caleb looks so peaceful when he's asleep, his face relaxed, his dark lashes fanning out against his cheeks. He's even more beautiful like this, without the anger and pain that usually clouds his eyes.

As you tiptoe back towards the bathroom, you pause for a moment, glancing back at Caleb's sleeping form. He's shifted slightly, one arm falling off the couch to hang down to the floor.

A pang of guilt spears through you as you remember the anger in his eyes last night. The jealousy. The pain. All because of you and your stupid, impulsive actions.

Shaking your head, you quickly look away, hurrying into the bathroom. You turn on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up. As steam starts to fill the small room, you strip off your clothes, letting them drop to the floor. You step into the shower, sighing as the hot water hits your cool skin.

You scrub yourself thoroughly, washing away the grime and sweat of the night before. But no matter how hard you scrub, you can't seem to wash away the shame and guilt that clings to you like a second skin.

With a heavy sigh, you turn off the water, stepping out of the shower. You wrap a towel around your body, tucking it in at the top.

You walk out of the bathroom, still wrapped in your towel, steam curling around your legs.

As you step into the bedroom, you freeze, your heart leaping into your throat.

There, sitting on the edge of your bed, is Caleb. He looks big and imposing in your small bedroom, taking up more space than he should.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words and lingering anger.

Then Caleb breaks the silence, his voice low and rough from sleep. "Hey," he says simply, his gaze never leaving yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very aware of your state of undress. You clutch the towel tighter around your body, as if it could somehow shield you from the intensity of his stare.

Hey," you reply softly, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

He stands up then, moving towards you with slow, deliberate steps. He stops when he's standing right in front of you. You have to tilt your head back to look up at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

"You really don't get it, do you?"

His thumb presses against your lower lip, tracing the soft curve. He leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours. You can smell the faint scent of apples, the lingering aroma of his cologne. It's the same scent that always lingers on your skin after he holds you close.

"I saw the way those men looked at you last night," he grits out, a flicker of anger sparking in his eyes. "I saw them staring at what's mine. And it made me want to... to..."

"Yours?"

"Yes, mine" he confirms "You've been mine for years. Long before you even realized it."

He takes a shuddering breath, his chest expanding and when he speaks again, his words are raw and unguarded, laid bare by the weight of his emotions.

"I can't hold back anymore. I can't pretend that I don't want you, that I don't need you like air in my lungs. I've wanted you for so long, and seeing you with him last night... it made me realize that I can't keep pretending anymore."

"I would never touch another woman, not when you're all I can think about. Not when you've consumed my every thought, my every dream, for as long as I can remember. You're the one constant in my life. My everything."

Caleb's eyes widen for a split second in surprise before they flutter shut as your lips meet his in a clash of long denied passion. He makes an approving sound in the back of his throat, his arms wrapping around you to crush you against his muscular body.

It's like a dam bursting open, a flood of pent up emotion and desire pouring out of him as he kisses you with a hunger that steals your breath away. His lips move demandingly over yours, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim and possess.

You feel the same desperate hunger rising up inside you, a starving ache that can only be sated by him. Your fingers clutch at his shirt, fisting the fabric as you press yourself even closer, needing to feel every inch of him against every inch of you.

His hands roam your body with a sense of urgency, mapping out the curves he's always craved to touch. He tugs impatiently at the towel, and it falls away, baring your naked flesh to his eyes. He breaks the kiss just long enough to drink in the sight of you.

He leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak before he suckles hard. Pleasure jolts through you, and you arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair to hold him close.

His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He parts your thighs, and you feel the cool air on your overheated skin before his fingers find your center.

He groans against your breast, his fingers sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with a skill that has you seeing stars. "So fucking wet," he murmurs, lifting his head to look at you with eyes that blaze with lust. "All for me, Pip? 

He walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. His hands grip your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he lifts you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist instinctively.

He lays you down on the bed, his body covering yours, pinning you to the mattress. He kisses you again, his hips nestling between your spread thighs.

Pulling back, he looks down at you with eyes darkened by desire, his chest heaving. "Tell me where you want me, baby"

He strokes the soft skin of your inner thighs, his thumbs brushing maddeningly close to the apex of your legs.

"Here?" he murmurs, his fingers grazing your sex, "or maybe... here? Show me"

"Caleb..."

"Show me, Y/N"

Slowly you spread your legs apart, feet flat on the mattress and you point a finger in between your thighs "Here"

"Dip one finger in"

You obey his command. He inhales sharply when your finger parts your glistening folds. His eyes follow the path of your finger as it trails over your sensitive clit, and a low groan escapes his lips at the sight of your touch.

"Stop" his voice makes you pause, your finger hovering just above your needy sex as you blink up at him.

"Not there," he says, "Dip just the tip of your finger straight into your tight little cunt. Let me see you open yourself up for me."

The tip of your finger disappears inside of you. He licks his lips, his eyes fixated on the way your walls clench around it, as if begging for something more.

"That's enough, I want a taste. Feed it to me"

You withdraw your finger from your dripping pussy and bring your finger to Caleb's parted lips, watching as he takes it into his mouth without hesitation. His tongue swirls around the tip, lapping up your essence, his lips sealing around the digit as he suckles firmly. An approving moan vibrates around your finger, the sound sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body.

"Mmm, fuck," he murmurs, releasing your finger from his mouth. "You taste even better than I imagined. Believe me when I say that I'm going to lick this sweet little cunt until you're screaming my name and cumming on my tongue over and over again. But right now, I need to be inside you"

With that declaration, he sits back on his heels and reaches for the hem of his shirt, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside. His muscles ripple and flex as he moves, a testament to the strength and power that lies beneath his skin.

Next, he unbuckles his belt. He stands briefly to shimmy out of his jeans, letting them drop to the floor and leaving him in nothing but a pair of tight, black boxer briefs that do little to hide the thick outline of his arousal.

He crawls back over you, settling between your spread thighs, his hips nestling against yours. He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste you again. You can feel the heat of his skin, the hard length of him pressing insistently against your core.

Breaking the kiss, he reaches down to push his boxers out of the way, freeing his cock. It springs up thick and hard, the swollen head already glistening with precum. He takes himself in hand, stroking himself slowly as he looks down at you.

Caleb groans and throws his head back as your small hand wraps around him. "Princess," he grunts, his hips bucking slightly into your touch. He can feel your hesitation, your innocence, and it makes him want to take his time with you.

When you push him back onto the bed and settle between his spread thighs, his chest heaves with anticipation. He can only watch as you lean down and extend your little pink tongue to lick a slow, teasing path along the underside of his cock.

"Oh, fuck," he gasps, his fingers tangling in your hair, gripping the soft strands tightly.

"Teach me how to do it, I want to make you feel good"

"Fuck, Pip," he rasps, his hips twitching with the effort of holding still and letting you take the lead. "You're killing me here. Your mouth feels so fucking good."

He guides your head with a gentle pressure, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth. "Start by just licking along the shaft," he instructs, his voice strained. "Use the flat of your tongue, from the base up to the tip."

As you follow his directions, he shudders and lets out a low moan. "That's it, just like that. You're doing so good, princess. Your mouth is perfect."

"Now," he continues, his breathing growing heavier, "try wrapping your lips around the head. Just the tip, okay? And suck gently, like you would with a lollipop. Use your lips and your tongue toge...Ungh...Fuck, just like that," Caleb groans, his fingers tightening in your hair as he feels your soft lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock.

He guides your head down a little further, inch by inch, letting you take more of his thick length into your mouth. "Remember to breathe through your nose, and don't worry about taking it all at once. Just focus on the head for now."

As you suck gently, your tongue swirling around the tip, Caleb's thighs tremble beneath your hands. "Shit...fuck. Now, try bobbing your head a little. Just an inch at a time, letting your lips slide along my shaft. Find a rhythm that feels good for you."

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense, filled with a mix of lust and affection. "You're doing amazing. I've never felt anything like this before. Your mouth is pure magic."

He watches, enraptured, as your head rises and falls, your lips wrapped snugly around him. The sight of your pretty mouth stretched around him, the feeling of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him, its too much for Caleb to take.

Caleb's body tenses, his grip on your hair tightening as he feels his release fast approaching. With a low groan, he suddenly moves, sliding his throbbing shaft from the warm haven of your mouth.

Before you can miss the loss, he's moving, flipping your body over and settling between your thighs once more. His hands grip your hips, squeezing the soft flesh as he positions himself at your entrance.

"Not yet, baby," he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I can't cum like that, not before I feel you wrapped around me. I want to be inside you when you let go."

The head of his cock nudges against your wet folds, parting them, teasing your entrance. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as he fights the urge to surge forward, to bury himself to the hilt in one thrust.

"Can I?"

"Please Caleb"

"Biiiig stretch," Caleb grunts, his voice strained as he thrusts forward. He buries himself to the hilt slowly, his heavy balls coming to rest against your skin.

Your gasp of surprise and the way your back arches off the bed, pressing your breasts against his chest, spurs him on.

He pauses for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, the stretch of your untouched walls around his shaft. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, a mix of exertion and exhilaration. The heat of your core is incredible, the wetness coating his length allowing him to slide in and out of you.

He pulls back slowly, until just the tip of his cock remains inside you, before thrusting forward again, burying himself deep. He sets a steady rhythm, his hips rocking against yours as he fucks you with long, deep strokes.

He lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder as he angles his hips and thrusts deep, striking a spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed.

"Do that again," you gasp, your nails digging into his back, urging him on. Your words inflame him, spurring him to do exactly as you asked. He pulls back and slams forward again, his thick cock pummeling that sensitive spot deep inside your core.

"That's it, it's there!" you cry out, your head thrown back, your throat bared to his hungry gaze.

He leans down, capturing your nipple his teeth grazing the sensitive peak. He suckles and nips at the hardened bud. His hand slides between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight, quick circles.

Your screams of pleasure fill the room, a symphony of ecstasy that makes Caleb's heart soar. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. The pleasure is overwhelming, unlike anything you've ever experienced on your own. It leaves you dizzy and breathless, your mind hazing with the intensity of it all.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Caleb grunts, his voice strained as he pounds into you with wild abandon. Sweat beads on his brow, his muscles flexing and rippling with each thrust. He's lost in the sensation of your tight cunt, in the way your body molds to his perfectly.

But then, he feels it. The way your hips start to rock up to meet his, your body instinctively seeking more pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waist, your heels digging into his backside as you urge him deeper, harder, faster.

"Don't fucking stop," you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths and wanton moans. "Don't ever stop, Caleb. Please."

He reaches down, gripping your thigh and hiking your leg even higher, until your knee is nearly pressed to your chest. The new angle allows him to drive even deeper into your core, his cock head kissing your cervix with each savage thrust. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall.

Your body tenses, back arching sharply as the coil of pleasure inside you snaps. A scream tears from your throat, raw and primal, as your climax crashes over you. Your walls clamp down around him like a vice, gripping his length with a force that steals his breath. The sensation is too much, too intense, too perfect.

His hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as your cunt milks his cock, demanding his own climax.

His cock pulses and throbs as he finds his own release, thick ropes of hot seed erupting from the swollen head to paint your insides white.

"I can't... I can't believe it," he gasps, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. "I thought I could last longer, but you just... god, Pip, you just felt too fucking good."

He's not sure if he was too rough, too demanding in his desire to claim you, to make you his. The thought that he might have hurt you leaves him feeling guilty and protective.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. "Did I hurt you, baby? I didn't mean to be so rough..."

He searches your face intently, looking for any sign of discomfort or pain. But all he sees is a reflection of his own satisfaction, his own lingering pleasure.

You shake your head, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "No, I'm not hurt," you assure him

"Wanna go again?" he asks teasingly. He rocks his hips slightly, his softening cock still nestled deep inside your sensitive core.

"You're secretly a dirty dog, Caleb," you accuse playfully, a giggle escaping your lips. You nip at his jaw, your teeth grazing the stubble that's begun to grow there. "A big, bad, horny dog."

Caleb's only response is a low, rumbling "Woof," his lips curling into a wolfish grin.

[morganbritton132]

Continuing from this (starting here and here)

Hopper doesn’t want to think about Steve.

He doesn’t really want to even see the kid or his broken arm or his wide gap-tooth smile where he’s starting to lose baby teeth. Every interaction is a reminder that he’s not doing anything to stop this clear case of child neglect.

He’s failing Steve and if he’s failing a kid whose problems are so blatantly obvious, then he could fail Sarah when the problems are close to home.

So no, Hopper doesn’t say anything when he walks into Melvards and sees Steve at the check counter. He nods to Joyce and continues on.

He’s got a list from his wife and that’s all he’s here for.

Sure, he noticed that on the check out counter is a tube of toothpaste, a box of cereal, and a pint of milk. Sure, he clocked Steve with his chin resting on the counter, pushing coins across it to Joyce and asking, “How ‘bout now?”

That’s just good observation. He’s a cop. It’s his job.

“That brings you to $2.54,” Joyce tells him. “You need 1 dollar and 0.32 cents more.”

Hopper is not listening to Steve sigh. He’s not standing next to a shelf of sunscreen watching Steve push the toothpaste to the side like, “I don’t need to brush my teeth. Is it enough now?”

“How about this,” Joyce whispers, leaning on the counter like they’re going to share a secret. Hopper is sure she’s crinkling her nose when she pushes the money back over to him, “How about you take all your quarters and I let you take your cereal, and your milk, and your toothpaste.”

Whereas he can’t see Joyce’s face, he can see the instant suspicion on Steve’s face when he steps back from the counter, “That’s stealing.”

“Yeah, silly, if you steal it. You’re not doing that,” Joyce concedes. “I’m letting you have this stuff.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that, Miss Joyce. You’ll get in trouble.”

“Well, how about a trade?”

“Like a Quick Pro Skrull?”

“Sure,” Joyce says easily. “I will trade you $2.54, one box of cereal, one pint of milk, and a tube of bubblegum-flavored toothpaste….if you let me sign your cast.”

Steve’s voice is soft, considerate the way kids aren’t supposed to be when he says, “Miss Joyce, that’s not a fair trade.”

“It’s the only thing I want, baby.”

“Fine,” Steve agrees, laying his casted arm on the counter. “I get my allowance in two days and I’m going to buy you a flower.”

“That sounds lovely, sweetheart.”

Hopper leaves the sunscreen- it’s not even on his list - and goes to the canned goods in the next aisle. While there, he has a better view of Joyce writing her name on Steve’s cast.

“You know, Steve,” She tells him. “I’m going to put my phone number right here because I have little boy about your age. His name is Jonathan.”

“I know Jonathan from school.”

“That’s good! Maybe some time you two can play together.”

“Oh, no thanks, Miss Joyce,” Steve shakes his head sadly. “My dad says you’re poor an’ I’m not allowed to play with poor people ‘cause poor people are lazy and don’t work hard even though you have a job…”

Steve pauses like he’s contemplating that before continuing, “And Tyler - that’s Tommy’s big brother. Tommy is my best friend and I wish I lived at his house - he says that sometimes people are so poor that they can’t a’ford food and they eat babies. He says that happened in Ireland and he would know too ‘cause his great-great-great-ate grandpa is from there.”

“I’m not a baby,” He tells her seriously, “But my Nonna says I’m a sweet boy and one time I was playing with a kid from the trailer park and he bit me.”

He tells her, “I don’t wanna be eaten.”

Joyce blinks at him.

Hopper blinks too where he’s listening in.

Steve doesn’t blink at all but instead gathers up his stuff. He gives her a big smile and says, “Thanks, Miss Joyce. I love you. Bye.”

Then he’s gone.

The store is empty except for Hopper in the baby food aisle and Joyce at the counter. She asks aloud, “Did I just get accused of cannibalism?”

Hopper has never laughed harder.

[pankiepoo]

idfk what im doing. thank u @fansblogs for helping with some dialogue editing

Transcript v

Suitcase: Fan?

Fan: Oh- H-Hey Suitcase!

Fan: So- how's it feel to be the season 2 winner, huh?

Suitcase: Heh, it feels… strange- yet… nice. But- are you alright?

Fan: Oh, I'm fine… all fine… except the fact that I'm- y'know, not real! Hah… I just… can't help thinking- was I just made to like the show? How am I even supposed to process that! I'm not sure how I didn't even notice- and I was… well- made to pay attention to the show… or so I thought.

Fan: Just- just look! Ha-ha, oh- an actual fan is ALSO a fan of the show! I mean- my- my first appearance was…. just a little gag. From how they(the viewers) viewed us- to what everyone else was made for- I had been right- we all were just some characters! Just… scripted, and, well- fake. But- but with this whole… "what's real" question, uh… you… did put on a very good speech.

Fan: I dunno. I just- well. I tried to keep the show from being practically- uh… everything? But, I still…

Suitcase: It's... still very important to you. I get that.

Fan: I- ...yeah.

Fan: Even if I know there's more... I'm still kind of- well... I'm still the biggest fan, right? Like- go ask Marshmallow and she's completely cutting ties with it! But- I can't give up the show like that. Would that be fake? To keep that purpose...?

Suitcase: Well... you've put a lot of time and effort into the show, and you still do.

Fan: O-Of course I do! I just- I don't know if that's just... some reflection of MePhone- a-and, y'know, as the #1 fan, that should be a dream come true, right? But- it's kind of... taking away any individuality to the point where I'm- I'm apparently just-

Fan: ...Something to be projected onto- like the egg... gosh, that's really making it hurt.

Suitcase: Even then- you've still built around that. You're more than that.

Fan: I- I know! But- MePhone left to- who knows where! Inanimate Insanity finally ended- and how am I supposed to deal with that?! If- If I was initially made to love the show- and- and there's no chance of continuation- then what do I do now?! I- I can't just- well, just... just...

Suitcase: I'm... sorry, Fan, but- you have to accept that the show... is over, and... that really isn't all you are... you know that.

Fan: I... I guess.

Test Tube: Fan! I need your help!

Fan: Oh- c-coming, Test Tube! See you, Suitcase!

Suitcase: Bye... Fan.

[magicians-abode]

"What flavor was it...?"

[Ken Takakura/Okarun x gn!reader]

Warnings: fluff - long fic(?

Sitting on his lap with each leg placed comfortably beside his as he sat on the soft mattress, you gently but generously applied lipgloss over your lips once again. "Don't look, alright? I'm watching you," you murmured, teasing the poor guy as he nodded, kepping his eyes tightly shut as you had instructed. By now both of you had lost count of how many times your lips had clashed together in a sweet dance, or how many times you had applied lipgloss over your soft lips, or how many times, due to his nerves, Ken had guessed the flavor incorrectly, making you reapply it once again and try over and over until he got the flavor right.

Having lipgloss wasn't just good for whenever you wanted to feel pretty, it was also good for teasing the hell out of your poor boyfriend, like right now, and you couldn't be more taken by the sight of his reddened cheeks as he patiently waited for you to say he could open his eyes again.

He nervously fixed his glasses over the bridge of his nose despite having them shut in a nervous gesture before speaking in a shaky and rather high-pitched voice. "A—are you done... yet?"

With a loud popˎˊ˗ of your lips, you set the tube of shiny gloss behind him on the bed and grin. "Yup, all ready." His eyes flutter open, and he fixes his glasses once again with timidity. His eyes meet yours as he does, but then, they fall to the culprit of his nerves, of his almost sweaty palms. He swore he could feel them begin to sweat, he swore it. And it was terribly embarrassing. Takakura gulped, and before he could say anything, you leaned back in, pressing your lips against his.

His hand moved up to cup your face shakily as he closed his eyes once more, and even though your lips felt like heaven itself and he oh so badly wanted to get lost in the dizzying feeling they caused, he made his best efforts to focus on what flavor you had reapplied on them just for him this time.

After a good minute or two, he pulls away, breathless and in slight awe of your kiss. "Is it... Cherry?" He whispers, trying to guess correctly.

"We already used the cherry-flavored one, pretty boy," you say with a teasing smile, and it makes him avert his eyes, hoping you can't notice just how embarrassed you make him feel. "L—let me try again..." he mutters bashfully, already leaning forward on his own. The hand on your cheek moves to hold onto the back of your head tenderly instead. It's sweet and gentle, almost like he's afraid to touch you too harshly and accidentally hurt you. He'd be mortified if it happened, that's for sure.

His lips move against yours with sweetness, and despite how nervous he feels, he makes sure to let it be known that he loves this by kissing you slowly and taking his time. Takakura's lips are surprisingly soft, making them addictive and so, so kissable. You feel his round glasses touch your nose as he tilts his face to the side to deepen the kiss slightly.

With furrowed brows in concentration, he mulls over about the flavor in his head. "They said it's not cherry... but... I'm not sure what it is." He tilts his head to the other side and gently leans forward. "Maybe... strawberry? Or grapes? It's so soft... their lips feel so nice..." he pulls away again, this time more confused than before. "I... are you s—sure it's not cherry flavored, (y/n)?" He mumbles tentatively "I—It's very sweet."

"I'm pretty sure. But... if you give up, I'll tell you." Takakura blinks and instinctively tries to look behind him at the small collection of flavored gloss you hid from his view but finds his face gently being guided back to face you. "Nuh-uh, that's cheating" you pout, and he nods, flustered by your gesture. "R—right, I'm sorry, I—I just can't... get it right." he stutters, scratching the back of his head.

"Well then, it's a good thing we have aaall day, right?" You smirk. "Let's try again."

After repeating the process of closing his eyes tightly, reapplying your lipgloss, and kissing once again, Ken pulls away, breathless, a small string of saliva connecting your lips. He wipes it away quickly, feeling his hands shake with embarrassment. "I— I think I got it" he quickly speaks, looking to the side. "Is it— Is it peach... maybe?" He squints, an eyebrow raised hoping to finally get it right this time around. His heart is going to explode if he doesn't; he can feel it, beating like a bird trapped inside a cage.

Clapping your hands together a few times in applause, you grin. "Yeah, you got it this time, Okarun!"

"N—no way!" He smiles brightly with excitement, but his cheerfulness is quickly replaced by confusion as he shakes his head. "Wait, really? Peach flavor? That... that's not what it tastes like."

"Well it's an artificial flavor, it's obviously not going to taste like the real thing" you flick his forehead playfully with clear amusement in your voice. He rubs his forehead, letting a soft "ow..." and looks into your eyes. "H—How many did I guess so far?" He smiles sweetly, and you can't help but realize how adorable he looks each time he does.

"Hm..." you look behind him at the ones you've already used "seems like we only tried four different ones" you answer, and his eyes widen comically.

"Four?! Just four?!" He feels his face heating up again and he gulps nervously. "But we've been here for a really long time!" He looks at the clock on your bedside table, which shows the numbers 5:34 p.m., you've been kissing for a whole hour already...

You laugh at his bashful reaction, finding it endearing. "What, you don't like kissing me for that long, Okarun?" You tease, obviously not meaning anything by it, but he's quick to shake his head.

"N—no, it's nothing like that! I really enjoy kissing you" his hands had moved down to gently rest over your hips "it's just... I don't know, I guess it's just really embarrassing..." mumbling softly, Ken looks away, avoiding your gaze.

"Well... if you need a break we can take one. Just say the word" you cup his face in your hands and stare lovingly at him, a gaze he returns just as intensely.

"N—no... I can— I can keep going. I want to keep going. I really... enjoy kissing you, (y/n)" he admits, and your lips stretch into a wide grin.

"Well then, let's keep going, shall we? We have like eight different flavors left for you to guess!"

"EIGHT?!" Takakura practically squeaks, but as he sees you grab a different tube of lipgloss, his eyes fall closed. "You're going to make me pass out" he stutters a protest, but in all honesty, despite feeling like his world was spinning each time he kissed you, he found it was a rather beautiful way to go if he did happen to die thanks to the embarrassment. He could keep kissing you for the rest of his life, nothing else really mattered at all.

(A/N: oh my gosh! This took a really long time and so much effort for me to finish. I didn't want to just leave it in my notes like so many other ones so I did my best. Please do tell me if there's anything wrong, I feel like reading it seems kinda funny but it could be just the fact that I've been re-reading it over and over to check for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it!!)

[naburi]

I’LL DO ANYTHING, JUST DON’T TELL HIM

JIHYO X READER

TAGS: BLACKMAIL, CHEATING, TWERKING, ICE PLAY, DOGGY, COWGIRL, REVERSE COWGIRL, CREMPIE

2K WORDS

What would you do when you saw your friend’s fiancé in the arms of another man? What would you do if that woman was staring at you from a distance? The crowd can’t hide the girl who is now walking up to the comfort room. ”I’ll do anything, just don’t tell him,” she begged.

The draining corporate life made you a regular in this bar. It becomes your escape as alcohol can wash away your stress for the night. Loud music, waves of crowd, cold alcohol, it has become a routine now. All was the same until you saw a familiar face.

The dim-lighted place can’t keep her glowing face from attracting attention, her pink tube-top made her busty front more pronounced, her ponytail made it easy to gaze upon the beauty that’s on the other side of the bar. But this is not the first time you saw her.

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend,” your friend said, introducing her to your friend group. It was four years ago when you first laid eyes on her. chubby cheeks, giggling smile, thick and busty front. You were Jealous how your friend found a girl like her. Her innocence and thick body is a dangerous combination. You fantasize on breaking her innocence and using what her body is made for.

“Everyone, we’re engaged”, your friends announced last week. She now looks more fit, thinner waist, toned body, made her boobs more prominent. She is now more confident and mature. Everyone is excited for the wedding but behind closed doors, they want to hit their friend's fiancé.

The woman your friend group fantasized is in the arms of a middle-age man. He looks like he’s in early 40s, his arm across her shoulder, occasionally reaching her soft boobs to give a light squeeze. In return, the girl smirked and kissed the man's cheeks. She drank whenever the man poured in her glass. She let the man groped her while the other men besides them enjoyed the view.

She’s having the time of her life until she notices a familiar face. Someone was staring at her from a distance. It’s someone who knows her. She got sobered by the thought that you’ll expose her to your friend. If you didn’t see it yourself, you wouldn’t believe it either. She rallied to the comfort room to compose herself but you cut her off.

The two of you take a second in disbelief. “I’ll do anything, just don’t tell him.” Are the first words she can muster.

“Anything?” You asked.

“Yes, Just don’t tell anyone”, she pleaded.

That’s all you needed to hear. You waved your hand to one of the server. You requested a VIP room. The girl looked worried about where this could lead, but she didn’t have a choice. She knows if this gets leaked out, her wedding will be called off and her friends and family will look at her differently. Her life will change if anyone finds out.

Shot glasses, ice bucket and bottles of liquor in the wide glass table. Long black longues cover the three walls of the room. Soft music coming from the wide screen as the room is free from the loud noise of the bar. The server closed the door behind the two of you. You invited her to sit beside you but the woman is suspicious. Her mind goes through multiple scenarios on what can happen. You finally convinced her to sit but the woman is still worried.

“Now, what do you want?” she raises her voice.

“What I always want from you,” you retorted.

“And what is that?” She got curious.

“Use your body,” you said while staring at her.

Jihyo feels trapped, she is not in a position to negotiate.

She’s wearing a white high waisted pants that are too long for your liking. You asked her to remove her pants. Jihyo looks at you in anger, knowing you have all the power. She removes her pants revealing a black lingerie undies that covers her tight slit. Her huge boobs attract all the eyes around her, not knowing she also has toned legs and butt that is now in front of you.

You asked Jihyo to turn around and expose her ass more. She shoots a death stare at you before turning around. She’s mad at the situation she's in but she can’t do anything. Jihyo, while embarrassed, leaned down her torso while keeping her legs straight. You now have a better view of her firm ass. Your hand slaps and grabs her ass which elicits a light groan for her.

One hand groping her ass while the other reaches her slit, lightly caresses it over her underwear. Jihyo left out a low moan. She quickly caught herself and held her moan. This made you chuckle, the woman who is in an unfavorable position is still finding the situation pleasurable.

“Twerk for me,” you order her.

Jihyo is not strange in “entertaining” guests, she bent her knees to get into a low position, she took a quick glance before starting moving her ass up and down. Her firm ass bounces every move she makes. She changes the tempo to build tension and anticipation. She even gets closer to your seat as this goes on. Her ass is now bouncing down on your legs, this move of her made you inpatient. you grab her ass and position it where it now bounces on the bulge on your pants. This made the two of you moan as you felt each other’s parts.

She felt your numerous slapped to her ass while you felt her ass bounces rapidly in your bulge. The two of you left a long groan both feeling hot from the position. Jihyo quickly obliged when you asked her to get on top of you. Both her arms wrap around your neck, she stares at you before grinding her hips on top of you. The feeling of your bulge directly hitting her covered slit is enough for her to get turned on even more. The huge boobs that you fantasized are now in front of you.

You pulled down her tube tap revealing her huge soft boobs. You didn’t waste anything, you alternated suck both her nipples wanting to give each the attention they deserved. Moans come out from her with the feeling of your tongue savoring all parts of her nipples. You got motivated on how she enjoyed it. You reach down on the ice bucket on the table and grab an ice cube.

Jihyo is looking at you, anticipating the next move that you’re gonna do. You lightly grazed the ice cube on her now hard nipples. She let out a loud moan as she got surprised with the cold sensation. Seeing the reaction that you’re looking for. You press the cube on her nipples, circling it around making Jihyo jerks and moans with how you’re using the ice to stimulate her.

You noticed that she put her hand inside her underwear to play with her clit. Jihyo wants to be released with how stimulated she is. Wanting to stimulate her more, you pick another ice cube and put it inside her undies as well. You ordered Jihyo to continue her grinding on top of you. The woman moans like a mess as the ice cube keeps pressing directly on her clit. Her movements get faster insinuating she’s near her orgasm. You put an ice cube on your mouth then sucked one of her boobs. Your flickering tongue, the warmth of your mouth and the coldness of the ice is what made Jihyo release her orgasm.

Still catching her breath, you position her in a doggy position, her hands are holding the backrest of the lounge, her feet dangling over the seat. You move aside her soaking undies to reveal her wet slit. You told Jihyo that you’re going to put it in. Her wetness made it easy to push in your cock. She thought that you put it all in but she noticed that you still keep going. You both moan as now your cock is balls deep in her. You pull it out slowly then trust it hard again. You keep this tempo while Jihyo can only moan on your every thrust.

You confessed how many times you imagined doing things on her. You said how jealous you felt when your friend managed to get her. And how her boyfriend is not around, they talk about how they are going to lust over Jihyo. This made her feel horny, knowing a whole group is fantasizing over her.

She also confesses that your friend didn’t know how to satisfy her which forced her to seek pleasure with other men. This made you view her cheating in a different light. She wants her needs to be fulfilled. You grab her hips and both of your arms and thrust her in an aggressive manner. Jihyo realized what you’re doing, you want to help her needs. She moans loudly signaling you that you’re hitting her g-spot. Jihyo reached into one of your hands and put it in her boob, you realized what she wanted. You put two hands on each of her boobs, pinching her nipples while the other grope her soft boobs. Her getting fuck like this in a doggy position is enough for her to release again.

She asked to take a break for a moment, sitting in the lounge, you offer her a drink to replenish some energy. She leaned her head on your shoulder while caressing your arms. She’s now more comfortable with you than before. “You’re the first man who made me release twice.” Jihyo whispered in your ear. You had a few chit-chat while wearing only underwear. emptying a bottle, you're about to open another one but she had other plans. She reaches at your cock which gets harder quickly by her touch. Jihyo keeps her eyes locked onto you as she kneels down on the floor. She gives your cock a few strokes as she licks your balls down. Still keeping her eye contact, her mouth now is on the tip of your cock. Slowly putting it all in her throat, Jihyo hit a plateau where she can’t take more in. Her eyes get watery, she raises her head up to catch her breath then engulfed your cock again, this time hitting the hilt of your cock. Her tight throat is unlike any other. Based on the look of her face, this is the deepest her throat got stretched by a cock. Jihyo is determined to get used to your cock. You hold her hair by her ponytail and push her head down to your cock. It takes a while she gets used to it but now you're the one groaning with how she deepthroat your cock.

Jihyo felt your cock twitch, she pulled her cock out to her mouth and stood up. She puts her ass in front of you, her other hand putting your cock in her slit. She sits down on you in one go. Jihyo groaned as she felt your cock again inside her. “Come inside me,” Jihyo said. She gradually picked up her pace as she’s bouncing on your hard cock. She started caressing her own boobs while keeping her fast pace. “I’m about to cum,” she said in a hurried voice. Maybe Jihyo hasn’t noticed yet but she’s getting closer to orgasm when her boobs get stimulated. You hold Jihyo's hips to thrust up to meet her ass bouncing down. She’s about to release. You buried your cock deep inside her before joining her orgasm.

You're the first person who let her explore her sexual needs, from doing it in public to having sex while on a video call with her fiancé. She promised that she’s not going to do it with you after they got married.

Few days into their marriage, your phone rings, it’s Jihyo asking to meet her up.

[m-robinavitch]

silent.

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Female!Reader Summary: No one pisses you off more than Jack. And no one frustrates Jack more than you. Sometimes you just can't take it anymore. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, age gap (older man/younger woman), mean/dom Abbot

“Can we talk?” Jack’s voice pulled you from your frustration, the keys clattering under your fingers while ordering patient labs. 

“Just a second I’m-”

“Now.” His tone shook you, but didn’t really confused you- because he’s been on edge all fucking shift and now you guess it was your turn to feel his wrath. Good. You can take it. You know all his moods and he’s not going to get to talk to you how he wants.

“Yes Dr. Abbot?” You ask, fake innocence as he pulls you to the stairwell next to the viewing room. His eyes are set- hard and frustrated and you can see that he’s been running his hand through his curls from agitation. 

“Why did you ask Walsh for a consult on Bed 9?” Oh. That’s what this is about? MVC, two restrained passengers- male and female. You had the male and he seemed like he needed a chest tube- Jack told you to send the patient to CT but after Jack got pulled away on the female patient, yours started to crash. You figured his ribs were shoved into his heart and lungs from the force of the airbag- which you were right and CT would’ve just proved it and prolonged the operation. The chest tube wouldn’t have matter when the patient needed emergency surgery to remove the fucking bones from his lungs and heart. Jack knew that. 

“Because surgery was needed.” Was all you said, shrugging and starting to walk off when he grabbed your upper arm. 

“Why didn't you take the patient to CT like I asked?” He was angry now, voice raised a bit and getting into your space. You wrenched your arm free, turning so you can meet his harsh gaze, eyes narrowed and hard. You don’t need his fucking approval to do shit. You put the patient first. Always.

“Because I decided that surgery was necessary.” You’re not arguing this. You’re not justifying patient care to him when the outcome would’ve been the same. CT or no CT.

“CT could have shown something that would make surgery dangerous if they go in blind up there. We need scans to make sure that when they fucking cut into the patient they have the entire picture and they aren’ fucking him up more.” He wasn’t wrong. A scan could have helped out but there was no time. Your patient was crashing and Walsh was ready and the OR was prepped. 

“You need to get your head out of your fucking ass long enough to realize that sometimes fancy surgical procedures are needed to save the patient.” You’re chest to chest now, breathing heavy and so fucking angry because he’s in your face and telling you how disrespectful it was to go over his head to Walsh that way- how he’d expect this from anyone else but you. 

“And I’m telling you that it needs to be cleared by me before any other fucking departments can claim patient care.” Why were you fighting him on this? You know how he works- known for years and it’s pissing him off even more now.

“I’m not your fucking resident anymore Jack-” voice raised that it echoes through the empty hall, “we’re supposed to be equals. Colleagues. I don’t need to wait for your fucking approval anymore.” He scoffs at that, a little laugh because he trained you, taught you throughout your entire residency and- it was hard to see you not need him anymore. He was fucking proud- yes. But it still pissed him off so much how you just decided patient care with Walsh and didn’t think to consult him or listen to his direction. 

“I’m still the supervising attending that is responsible for this ER,” why did you like pissing him off? Why did you go rogue and do things your own way like, like- well like him? “You still need to run your diagn-“

“Do you ask Shen to do that? Or Robby? No?” You cut him off. Pissed and shouting and-

“Lower your voice.” He growls out, his voice low- like he’s daring you to challenge him more. He’s so fucking infuriating and you can see the flash of realization behind his eyes when you speak and- 

“Oh I get it. You think because I’m not one of the boys that I fucking can’t-” you stop, well- you’re stopped by his hand on your mouth. Shoving you into the empty viewing room and he doesn’t bother to turn the light on or lock the door when he kicks it closed. 

“I said lower your fucking voice- see?” He spits out, pushing you back against the empty bed to where you’re just on the edge of it. “You just can’t fucking listen can you?” Jack has his hand flat on your mouth, keeping you from answering him and his other hand comes up to your thigh to widen them- allowing him to push between your thighs. “You need to be taught how to shut the fuck up don’t you? How to listen and understand that you’re not always right?” You’re so fucking mad and in the dark you can’t see him but you can feel him. You can feel the length of him- hard against your clothed center and you thank god he can’t feel how fucking wet you are now and the force of him grinding into you has pushed you up higher on the fucking hospital bed. 

“Jack-“ you whine as he loosens the force of his palm on your mouth, just so he can use both hands to unbuckle his belt and he laughs- something dark and playful because you’re helping him. You’re unzipping his pants and shoving them down his thighs with his boxers and whine at the sight of how hard he is- how he’s leaking at the tip now. He doesn’t let you admire long- no he has a plan of action now. His large hands grab at your waist- finding the waistband of your black scrubs to pull them down to your knees along with your underwear. He doesn’t waste time. He hitches your knees under his elbows so he can shove them back as far as they’ll go and to get impossibly closer and deep once he’s actually inside you. You know it’s going to hurt- but you’re so fucking wet and he’s thick and he’s mad and it stirs something deep inside you now as he replaces his palm back on your mouth- shoving into your tight pussy with little resistance. It was embarrassing that arguing with him made you this wet. That going toe to toe with Dr. Abbot made you so fucking wet and he can feel it and laughs a little when he slide into you. You’re glad he had the foresight to cover your mouth because you can’t stop groaning. You can’t stop the gasps and groans leaving you and he fucking wrecks you with each thrust. They’re hard. Fucking fast and devastating. 

“Fucking little girl- thinks she can decide all for herself what to do?” He groans, finding it harder to keep quiet because your pussy was so fucking tight- even with how wet he made you. He knew it would feel good. As many years as he’s spent mimicking it and fisting his cock in bed thinking about it- he knew you would take him so well right now. But he’s talking too much- fucking Jack Abbot always talks too fucking much and never knowing when to shut the fuck up and you hear someone open the stairwell door so you shove your hand over his mouth as you clamp down on his cock to suppress his loud groan. But he doesn’t stop- he’s fucking into you harder now. Almost even angrier that you’ve silenced his words- but that’s fine. If he can’t tell you how pissed off he is- he’ll make you feel it. 

He pushing through your tightening walls- he’s shoving himself up into your wet cunt and you can only fucking let him. You can let him fuck you but not without some fight because he still fucking pisses you off. You reach up with your hand- fingers threading themselves into those greying curls at the top of his head and you tug, hard. Hard enough that his face screws up into anger and maybe a bit of pleasure. But definitely anger because- how fucking dare you? He’s giving you the best dick of your life right now- and you’re being so ungrateful. And the tug of his hair pulls his head down closer- forehead against your own now and you look into his eyes and for a moment, they soften. They softened and in some sort of desperation, the back of your hands are flush together now in a weird makeshift kiss- because if any of you were to remove your hands then you absolutely could not keep silent anymore. But you’re still angry. Still pissed off at him for being such an asshole that you clamp down- clench around him hard while biting his finger and his eyebrows are knitted together in anger again. Fucking brat. You feel his hips spring forward more- pounding into your cunt and the meat of your ass the only thing that helps dull the force. It's good. It’s so good. It’s so blindingly good. So fucking indulgently good that you feel- embarrassed almost, on how well you’re taking his cock. You can’t cum yet- that would be too fast and it wouldn’t only drive his stupid fucking ego more. 

One hand needs to keep his mouth from giving you both away to the entire Pitt and the other is clawing at his bicep now- trying to keep yourself from being too loud. Because even from under the weight of his heavy hand- you’re whimpering, you’re sighing and trying to not scream because his cock feels so fucking good. It’s thick, You would try to mimic the feeling with your fingers- when it’s early in the morning after your shift and you need to sleep but you’re too busy riding your fingers and biting your shirt so you don’t moan his name too loud. No one would hear it- but you would know that it was the fantasy of your attending, your fucking mentor, that had you fingering yourself, grinding against your pillow and whining as the sun started to peek through your blinds. 

You can hear the slapping of his hips against yours and you have to bite his hand for him to stop- he can’t fuck you that hard, it’ll give it away and fuck- he can’t ever do anything quietly can he? And okay? Well- you want him to not fuck into you as fast? Fine. He tilts his palm a bit so your face can follow and he makes sure you’re looking directly into his eyes as he pulls out- painstakingly slow. You feel every vein, every ridge, every centimeter that his cock has to offer until just the tip is kissing the leaking entrance of your cunt. Fuck. Again- so. Fucking. Slow. He’s sliding into you, shoving himself back into you. The tip breeches your entrance that has only just started to relax from being forced open- the sting just right as it’s adjusting to his girth again. You whine. Whine and sigh into his hand because it’s so fucking good. It’s so deliciously good how you can feel him rub against that spot- having you clench and see stars. Every time you clench you feel his muffled groan- feel him sigh against your palm and he’s trying so fucking hard to not fuck you into the hospital bed right now. You make him so fucking mad and he can’t enjoy this like he’s been thinking of. But he can make you whine. He can make you beg. He can punish you. 

He was fucking biting your hand now, not hard- but enough that if he kept it up for too long then there would be marks. And you’re groaning behind his hand, eyes going cross because he’s hammering inside you harder now and- fuck. You hear the slapping again. It’s so loud and you’re glad someone locked the wheels in the bed or you’re sure you’d be on the other side of the room by the sheer force of his cock spearing into you. Fuck you’re going to cum. His other hand pushes your leg back even farther and the angle has him just an inch deeper and if his hand wasn’t on your mouth the entire ED would hear you yell the name of the exact person who was ramming into your fucking guts right now. 

You can’t open your legs any wider because your scrub pants are around your knees and you’re trying to focus on the impending orgasm that’s coursing through your veins and ready to take root. If he could just- fuck if you could reach your clit maybe- just maybe you can cum because it’s so good but it’s not enough. It’s not enough and Jack doesn’t care. You’re being punished. You don’t deserve to cum. He pulls out of you- forces himself to pull out of your hot, tight, pussy and you groan because you need the sensation at this point. You flutter around nothing and whimper because he’s left you open and exposed. But he’s manhandling you to turn over- forces you to lay with your chest flat on the bed with your ass at his hips. You have a moment to register that your hand isn’t covering his mouth anymore but his is still on yours. Good. Because he's teasing you now- chuckling when you whine behind his palm as he drags the head of his cock up and down your wet folds. Fucking asshole. You groan- scream and wiggle your hips as much as you can. All you can do to indicate to him to fuck you again, to keep fucking you and not to stop even if someone opens that fucking door. They can watch for all you care at this point. And when he finally slams back into your cunt- you scream. You fucking see stars and his pace is brutal again. It’s fast and hard and his mouth is free to fucking spew whatever filth you had been holding back with your hand over his mouth. 

“F-fucking- brat,” he growls out, keeping one hand on your mouth and the other in your hair to pull you back to him. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum- maybe then you’ll understand who’s in charge? Okay?” He knows you can’t answer him, knows you can’t do more than take what he gives but he stops- pauses the ruthless hammering inside your walls and you clench, spasm and writhe underneath him because he’s not moving anymore and- “I said okay?” Fuck- he wants you to acknowledge him somehow. Nodding- you force yourself to shake your head and whine a barely audible “uh huh” from behind his hand. 

“That’s my girl,” he sounded so fucking condescending and smug and you couldn’t snark back at him. Your weren’t his fucking girl anymore. You weren’t the puppy intern following around her attending- you weren’t pining for your mentor anymore. You’re not his. But fuck- the way he’s pounding into your heat right now? Rearranging your insides to fit all the cock he can shove inside you to where you’re sure nothing will be able to compare anymore? Maybe you were his girl still. Because your body is giving up now. Your body is succumbing to the heat and pleasure and slight pain of him- your pussy has molded itself around his cock and- yes you’re his fucking girl still. You never stopped. 

“That’s my fucking girl. So sweet for me, taking my cock so fucking well. Like you were made for me. Were you baby?” God dammit- he doesn’t stop talking and it’s making you convulse and the palm on your mouth muffles the high pitched whine you’re making. You’re close. You’re so fucking close now. You feel that impending drop- feel your gut lurch up and your lungs sting because you always hold your breath before an orgasm. The same way you did with your hands shoved into your panties early in the afternoon- replaying the way Jack whispered praise in your ear for a job well done. He bites your shoulder when he cums- moaning into your scrub top and whimpering just a bit when you clench around him, milking his cock for every last drop while he keeps thrusting inside you, pushing his cum as far as it’ll go. And you can feel yourself start to spiral and- he pulls out. He fucking- pulls out. No. No. No no no no. You were so fucking close and this bastard is chuckling in your ear again with a soft slap to your ass and-

“Clean yourself up. Get back to the Pitt.” He’s panting, zipping his pants up and redoing his belt and- no? No he’s not- he is. You hear the door open and shut- you’re still bent over the fucking hospital bed panting and- no? You can feel his fucking cum leaking out of you and- you’re pissed. This. Fucking. Bastard. You were turned over but you can imagine the evil fucking smirk on his stupid fucking face and- oh that’s just fucking mean. On shaky legs you stand upright, pulling your scrub pants back over your hips and you sit on the bed for a second. There’s nothing worse than a denied orgasm- you almost want to fucking cry because it was right there. He was about to give it to you and- insufferable asshole. You take a second- redoing your hair because more than a few strands have come loose. You have to finish the rest of your shift with Jack Abbot’s cum leaking out of you. You have 6 more fucking hours to go- buzzing on the energy of a denied orgasm. 

“You good kid?” One of the nurses asks as you try to not fucking hobble to a computer, so you can sit at the hub for a second and will the ache of your throbbing cunt away. 

“She’s fine- Dr. Abbot just needs some caffeine.” Jack answers for you. Insufferable asshole. You’re not sure why you married him at this point. You can hear the shift in his voice- much less tense. At least someone is sated. Maybe he can go the rest of the day without being an asshole now. 

“I’ll get you so coffee love, I need a pick me up anyway.” Patting your shoulder she gets up and- bless Helen. The PM charge nurse who takes care of you too well and treats you like her child. You smile- leaning into her touch and immediately go back to glaring at Jack who can’t hide his expression to save his fucking life. He’s so smug. So fucking pleased with himself. 

“I hope you’re happy.” You grumbled, typing away at your computer to check on your patient’s labs that you ordered right before he jumped on you.. 

“Fucking ecstatic,” He smiles, walking passed you but stops to lean down and press a chaste kiss to your temple. “Saddle up baby, 6 more hours to go.” He was enjoying this far too much for someone who’s sleeping on the couch later.

[lymtw]

"Can I try it?"

Toji's voice snaps you out of the heavy focus you have on your reflection as you apply your lip gloss. You twist the cap back on the plastic tube that presents its Rosé colored contents and turn to look at him. "Hm? You want some?" You ask, extending it towards him.

He shakes his head and pushes it back towards you, stepping closer. "Looks better on you, doll. This another flavored one?" He asks, eyeing the sparkling prominence of your lips. You nod, a giddy smile on your face, which only serves to attract his attention to the feature more.

"It's apple flavored," you chirp.

"Ah. You look really pretty, mama," he says, loving the way your face glows with his compliment. You smile before turning back to look in the mirror. "Hold it." His hand goes to your arm. "Let me look at you a little longer."

"Give me a second. I feel like it's messed up," you say, going into one of your vanity's drawers, where you keep your makeup wipes.

Toji tugs on the back of your shirt, trying to grab your attention. "Put away the wipes and come here. If there's something there, i'll get it."

You sigh, dramatically, closing the drawer before simply turning to look at him, annoyance riddled on your face, because you can feel the excess lip gloss on your skin.

His eyes trail along the area of your mouth, and a grin surfaces on his face when he spots the small, glossy splotch, just below your lips.

"You look silly," he teases, entirely fascinated by the pretty, barely messy sight.

"Thanks," you respond, sarcastically, to which he hums, a wordless, yet, equally sarcastic 'you're welcome'. "You didn't mention it when you first looked at me. A little rude, don't you think?"

His hand reaches for your waist and he pulls you closer to him. Once you're right in front of him, he wraps his arm around your lower back and keeps you pressed flush against him, so he can look down and stare on at your lips.

"Honestly, I didn't even notice until you mentioned it."

You know better than to swoon over the sound of his voice and that longing gaze he has set on you.

"You always say that. It's like you want me to walk around looking like a mess." You crane your neck to look at your vanity, mentally set on wiping the gloss off yourself, because Toji is just staring at the smear.

He's trying not to laugh at how grumpy you are about this. "Ma-" he pauses, a chuckle escaping him. "Just-" He blocks your view of anything other than him. If you turn your head, he follows. "Doll, let me get it for you."

You roll your eyes and begrudgingly look at him, again. "If you're gonna do it, do it, already. This takes a maximum of three seconds, normally."

"Alright, alright. Stop turning away from me," he says, scarred lips still quirked up with amusement. You stand still for him, watching as he brings a hand up to cup your jaw. The gentleness of his touch and the intimate proximity has your heart racing. That and he's taking forever, just staring at your lips. It's a simple swipe of his thumb, what could possibly be taking him so long?

He leans in and juts out his tongue, dragging the tip of it beneath your bottom lip to get the sweet, artificial apple flavor off.

"Ew, Toji!" You snicker, turning away with a laugh. Your hand flies to his chest, creating almost nonexistent distance between you and him.

"What are you saying 'ew' for?" He playfully chides, clicking his tongue. "Face me. Stop moving." You don't even have a chance to turn your head, before he's doing it for you, thick fingers pressing into your jaw to get you to look at him. "You didn't even let me get all of it. Made me smudge it even more, instead."

He's lying. Not about not getting all of it, but about the smudging part. There's barely any lip gloss outside of your lips, anymore. It's the smallest speck, but he'll make it seem like it's messier, just so that he can keep you in front of him for longer, while getting to taste the sweetness of your lips.

"Okay, then get it off. Not with your tongue again. I'll laugh, and this will take much longer than it already is."

"Fine." He smirks, watching the twitch in the corners of your lips as you wait in anticipation for his next move. He leans in, again, and you let out a huff and roll your eyes expecting his tongue, only to be surprised by his lips pressing against the small streak of that sweet, misplaced product on your skin. His quick "cleansing" kisses move up to the corner of your lips and then go higher, before moving along your cupid's bow. Once he's in the middle, he starts going back down, lower and lower until he ends up centering his lips with yours, giving you a proper kiss. It doesn't end with just one kiss. He's picking up every bit of the tacky product on your lips, now, ignoring the fact that he was only supposed to get the excess product. His hands go to your waist, keeping you firmly against him as he carries on with the kisses. He swipes his tongue over your lips, completely clearing them of any sweetness, the gesture causing you to laugh between kisses.

When the supposed tidying came to an end, your lips were wet and shiny, but without a trace of the sweet product that was smothered on them before. Toji watches your flustered expression, mischief lingering in his gaze at your speechlessness.

"It really does taste like apples," he says, earning a deadpan expression from you.

"You overdid it. It's all gone, now." It's hard to stay serious when you see him licking the remnants off his lips. You can see the gears turning in his head, like he's preparing to diffuse your faux irritation.

"No, it's not. You still have some," he says, looking behind you at the practically full tube of lipgloss.

"I can't feel or taste it on my lips, anymore, Toji. What do you mean I still have some?" You say, clearly not thinking the same thing as him.

He takes your hand and drags you over to your vanity. "Put some more on," he says, picking the bright colored tube up and putting it directly in your hand. "Wanna do it, again."

"Toji-" you start, unable to hold in your laugh when you see the random specks of glitter that remain stuck to his lips.

He grins at your the sound of your laughter, before going on to defend himself. "I asked if I could try it, and you offered, so..." He prolongs the word for a couple seconds, unable to find the ending to his sentence.

"So, what?" You prompt, your smile lingering.

"So, I got it indirectly." He smirks. Out of impatience, he takes the tube out of your hand and twists the cap off, before offering it to you, again. "Now, put some more on."

"You're just gonna wipe it off," you argue, shaking your head.

"Only if you mess it up. I can do it for you, if you want. I'm very precise."

He's so eager to do this, that you can't help but sigh and give in. "Fine. You don't have to use so much of it, though. You're precise, but you've also got a heavy hand."

"Yeah, I do," he says, a smug grin on his face. You playfully smack his chest, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself when your laugh slips out at the dirty innuendo.

You stand still, allowing Toji to take your chin between his fingers with one hand, while the other squeezes the tube and brings the lipgloss applicator closer. It makes contact with your lips and he starts spreading it around, evenly. His attention flits between your lips and your gaze, which isn't on him, because having him examine you so closely will lure your giggles out if you focus too hard on it. Toji can see color blooming on your cheeks and feel your skin heating beneath his fingers, so he decides to push it even more.

"This color looks really good on you, doll. One of my favorites. So pretty," he mumbles, as he continues to layer your lips with even more sweetness, definitely more than the necessary amount. You can feel the thickness being dragged back and forth, repeatedly. "You know you can kiss me whenever you want, but if you're wearing this, i'll lean in first, every time. I'll even chase you if I have to." His voice is smooth, like he's hypnotized by how stunning you look while wearing something so simple to apply.

You laugh, unable to contain it any longer, then suddenly, you feel the gloss drag out of your lip line, again.

"Aw, damn. You made me mess up." He picks the cap up off the vanity and covers your lipgloss. You mentally facepalm, and your eyes lid when you look at Toji, who doesn't look the least bit upset about you ruining his masterpiece. "Don't worry, baby. I can clean it up for you."

[hauntedfawnn]

Candy Girl ⟡˖ Roman Godfrey x Reader ⟡˖

Warnings: Pervy/obsessive reader, blood kink(duh), period sex, Roman eats reader out on her period, blood drinking(just a whole lot of blood), choking, perverted acts involving panties, unprotected sex, male masturbation, a tiny dash of daddy kink, pet names, fluff. 18+MDNI! Wk: 4.2k

You are driving Roman insane. No matter how hard he tries to evade you, shut you down, you remain persistent. He met you outside the ice cream shop a few weeks ago. You were standing there in these tiny, little shorts with a tube top while you ate your cotton candy cone. Some dripped down the side and onto your hand and he couldn’t help but stare at the way you licked it off. You caught him and called him out, asking if he had a staring problem before walking over to him. And into his life. Then you never walked out. You had this sassy attitude that had a lightness behind it and he immediately knew he couldn’t muck it up with his darkness. You smelled like bubblegum and cinnamon and he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into the curve of your neck and taste your candy-sweet blood.

Then he found out why you were in town, you’re Peter’s childhood bestfriend, of course you fucking were. It meant you knew where he lived, where he worked, and you took advantage of that. He would come out of meetings to you sitting in his office, or he’d find little notes on pink paper that weren’t there when he left. You’d leave baked goods that were way too sweet for him on his doorstep. But if he imagined it was the way you tasted he could stomach it, and even sometimes you’d be waiting there when he got home.

He gave you the cold shoulder at every turn. Hardly speaking to you, rolling his eyes, scoffing. He even plain told you to “fuck off” a few times but none of it discouraged you. You’d just smile and let out this cute little giggle, like you knew he didn’t mean it. Your persistence flatters him, that bright smile on your face never faltering when your pretty eyes are on him. Roman was strong at first. But his resolve is slipping, especially since you started getting more scandalous with your little gifts.

It started with the Polaroids. The first one was innocent enough, just a picture of your sweet face. But the camera was tilted down for him to see the cleavage in your low cut top. They just got dirtier from there. Pictures of you sucking on your fingers. Body shots in little lingerie that he hopes nobody else sees you in. The thought makes him murderous. Your tits. Your perfect ass. You even started getting bold with pussy shots. And you always signed them with naughty little notes.

What really sent him over the edge though? You started leaving him your panties. The first pair was in the drawer in his office. You’d leave them on the rear view mirror of his car. Any random little spot you could find.

He was barely holding onto his resolve. The only thing holding him back is Peter’s threat to snap his neck if he didn’t stay away from you, and the fact that he didn’t trust himself not to drain every drop of blood from your perfect body. But now he’s sitting on his bed with a pair of your panties in his hand, and it’s not just any pair, they’re bloody. The note you left with them was you practically begging for him to be your boyfriend and for him to let you suck his dick. And somehow you got into his house to leave them right on his pillow. If it was anyone else he would be fucking pissed, he’d find them for breaking into his space, and wring their neck. But something about you going to that length to be close to him makes his heart beat faster, and his cock twitch.

Roman also wonders how you knew he’d want these. Did Peter tell you about him? Do you know what Peter is? If so, is this your way of telling him you don’t care? His thoughts are spiraling, but he keeps going back to the idea that this was you offering your blood to him. And who was he to turn down the offer of the century? He brings the crotch of your panties to his nose and inhales deeply, the scent of your candy sweet blood causing him to groan deeply in his chest. He brings them to his lips and runs his tongue along the sticky middle, his eyes rolling back from the taste of you. His cock feels like it’s going to burst out of his jeans and he practically growls as he undoes his belt and pulls it from his slacks. He pumps his cock while the taste of you lights up his system like a drug.

You really should’ve thought this through more. Not only did you have no idea when Roman would be home, you also didn’t bring an extra pair of panties. So you’re currently huddled in his bathroom behind the shower curtain, trying not to bleed on your little white mini skirt. Wearing it was definitely a choice, all of this was. You wouldn’t say you’ve been stalking Roman, it’s more that you’re persistent and know what you want. Some might call it stalking though.

You can’t help it. He’s just so fucking beautiful and mysterious. He’s so closed off and cold but you can tell there’s a softness underneath it, a desperation to be loved. You want to crack him open at the very center and consume every drop of sweetness he has to offer. You want to know everything about him.

Peter says you’re obsessed, and he’s not wrong. He also told you to give it up, he even told you Roman’s deepest secret in hope that it would deter you. But all it did was make you want him more. You’ve known about Peter since you were kids, so finding out vampires, or upirs are real, wasn’t the biggest shock to you. It just made you want to expose your neck to him and let him drink from you until he was drunk off your taste. You know leaving him little love notes, your panties, and nudes might come off desperate. But if he really cared he would’ve told you to stop by now. And it’s not like you’ve tried very hard, or at all, to hide it was you. Now you’re hiding in his fucking bathroom because you literally broke into his house. You’re so fucked.

You’re ripped from your thoughts on how to escape by the sound of a loud groan, followed by ragged breathing. At first you thought he was pissed but as you continued to listen you could hear the slight sound of skin slicking on skin. Was he fucking someone? Suddenly murder was starting to sound appealing. Then you heard it, the sound of your name and that’s when it clicked. He’s jerking off, hopefully with your panties, or at least because of them. Did he taste them? God, you hope he did.

Your mind is reeling with the possibilities of what is happening just on the other side of this wall, the door isn’t even shut. Your curiosity ends up outweighing your desire to stay hidden. You pull back the shower curtain and slip quietly out of the shower, being extra careful to make sure your pink platform heels don’t click against the expensive marble tiles on the floor. You tiptoe to the door and peer through the crack and the sight in front of you nearly brings you to your knees.

Roman is sitting on the edge of his bed with his thick, hard cock in his hand as he pumps himself. His large legs are spread wide and his hips raise off the bed to meet his hand. Best of all though? The crotch of your panties is entirely in his mouth. His eyes are rolled back as he eagerly sucks your bloody juices from the soft silk. Your nipples harden in your little top at the sight and you feel wet, hot liquid drip down the side of your thigh before you look down just in time to see a splat of your blood drop down onto the white marble below you. It causes a little gasp to sound low in your chest and Roman whips his head in your direction the second he hears it.

You take a few shaky, nervous steps back and your heel catches on the corner on the bathmat, causing you to fall flat on your ass. Your skirt pools around your hips and your pussy is on full display as the cool air hits your slick center. You barely have time to realize you fell before Roman is pushing the bathroom door open so hard it slams against the wall. His eyes are crazed as he takes in the sight in front of him. He has his slacks and boxers pulled up now but his pants and belt are still undone. His usually meticulously styled hair is out of place, like he was running his fingers through it. His perfectly pressed black button up has the top three buttons undone and he’s clutching your panties in his large hand. He looks like a wet fucking dream.

Roman could say the same about you though. You’re sitting on his bathroom floor in a tank top that’s so see through he can practically see your nipples and he can tell you’re not wearing a bra. Your hair is in these cute little braids with ribbons tied on the ends and your pretty, pouty lips shine in the iridescent white light of the bathroom. But what’s driving him to the point of insanity? Your little white skirt is bunched up at your hips, revealing your bare pussy to him. Which means the only pair of panties you had were the ones you gave him. Silly girl. You’re pussy glistens with your wet, bloody juices and your white skirt is streaked with blood.

If he believed in heaven, he’s sure this is what it would look like. Except for the way his stomach growls at the smell of you suddenly makes him feel like he’s in hell. He thought the smell of you on your panties was just really strong, he didn’t realize the source was just behind the door. You smell so fucking good. Like someone blended cotton candy and blood and mixed it with your arousal and he’s never smelled anything better in his life. He wants to rip your skin open and drink every drop of saccharine liquid from your body and that’s exactly why he’s stayed away. But now? He’s not sure he can trust himself, but how can he resist just a taste?

“Roman, I’m - I’m so sorry! I really shouldn’t have - fuck I’m just so sorry.” Your voice is squeaky and you trip over your words while you talk awkwardly with your hands.

“No. You shouldn’t have.” Roman’s nostrils flare and he clenches his hands into tight fists at his sides. He looks fucking pissed and you can’t help the way your pussy clenches at the sight. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Broke into your house and left my blood panties on your pillow?” You state the obvious with an awkward smile and close your legs when you realize you’re still flashing him your entire pussy. Even though you don’t really care. He’s already seen it all.

“You think I’m mad you broke in?” Roman chuckles darkly as he takes a few steps toward you, he’s absolutely massive from this angle and it makes your head spin. He holds your panties up and rolls them between his fingers before holding them out toward you. “I don’t give a fuck about that. Do you realize how dangerous what you’re doing is?! Do you realize that - that I could fucking hurt you?!”

“I’m not scared of you, Roman. If you’re mad because you think you’re going to hurt me, good. I want you to.” You lick your lips and smirk up at him, baiting him. If he isn’t mad that you broke in, you’re going to shoot your shot. You didn’t come all this way, practically stalking him, for nothing.

“You should be.” Roman grits as he glares down at you. He knows if you offer yourself to him, it’s over. He can’t resist you anymore. Not like this. “You can’t just - you can’t just fucking walk in here dressed like that, smelling like blood and shit.” He takes another step forward and points down at you accusingly. “Why can’t you just give it up, huh?! No matter what I do, you don’t stop!”

“Because I can tell you want me! And you think you’re some big, bad scary monster but, newsflash, Roman I’m not afraid of you! I want you to fuck the shit out of me and feed off me. I want to be the only person you’re nice to because I can tell you’re sweet underneath that mountain of ice. I can tell you just want to be loved.” You look up at him through your lashes as you get onto all fours and crawl until you’re knelt directly in front of him. “Let me feed you, let me love you.”

“You’re fucked in the head, you know that?” Roman chuckles and smirks down at you devilishly, his words holding less malace now. “But I guess that makes us both fucked because all this crazy shit you’ve been doing gets me so hard. I’m gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”

“Do it.” It was like you said the magic words with how quickly Roman gets onto his knees and manhandles you onto your back. He roughly grabs your thighs, spreading them apart as he shoves his face between your legs. He lickes a long stripe along your folds before slipping his tongue between them and licking up your juices. Every nerve on Roman’s body lights up at your taste and he growls into your pussy as he shoves his tongue into your hole and swirls it.

“Oh fuck, that’s so fucking good.” You whine and it spurs Roman on, his cock twitching in his jeans. You taste better than he could have ever imagined. Like metallic candy and desire. He doesn’t know how he will settle for the taste of anything else ever again. Roman grabs onto your ass and lifts your lower half off the ground, his tongue never letting up. He flattens it inside of you and practically scoops your blood into his mouth as he drinks it down. His thumb comes up to rub circles on your clit and it has you close to coming already. “Oh god, I’m going to come.”

Roman moans into your pussy as he looks up at you with his big, green eyes that are almost entirely black from the dilation of his pupils. He hasn’t come up for air once, he can suffocate and drown between your legs with your blood on his tongue for all he cares. He circles his tongue around your hole before thrusting it back inside you and it has white hot pleasure burning through you. You grip onto his hair and your hips rut against his face as you ride out your high. You start to come back down to earth but Roman doesn’t stop until you’ve come on his mouth two more times. He finally pulls off of you and you pant as you try to focus your blurry eyes on the way your blood coats his lips.

“You taste so much fucking better than I could’ve ever imagined.” Roman moans as he brings his finger to gather the blood on his chin and cheeks before sucking it into his mouth. He licks his lips, savoring your taste like it's the finest meal he’s ever eaten, because it was. “I don’t know how I’m going to come back from that. Nothing will ever taste as good as that. Fuck! I shouldn’t have -”

“ROMAN!” You shout as you lean forward and take his face in your hands. “Don’t spiral. I’ll be your personal fucking blood bag, for all I care.” You smile at him adoringly as your thumbs brush his cheeks. “Will you kiss me?”

“You want me to kiss you?” Roman cocks his head to the side as his eyes roam your sweet face. He can’t believe such a weird fucking girl resides inside your angelic form. “You’re not real.”

“Real as they come, shut up and kiss me.” Roman surges forward, crushing his lips against yours. They’re so plush and soft and he tastes like your blood but you don’t even care because he’s finally kissing you. You slip your tongue into his mouth and tangle it with yours as you lean up to wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your chest against his own. You want to be closer to him. Roman groans as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up as he stands with ease. His other hand grips onto your ass and you lock your legs around his waist, your lips never ceasing to touch each other. He walks into his bedroom and throws you down on the bed, standing at the edge of it as he looks down at you hungrily.

“I want you to fuck me.” You smile up at him with mock innocence as you spread your thighs for him. “Use me, Roman.”

“If you think you’re ever escaping me now, you’re wrong. I’ll tie you to my fucking bed if I have to. You’re mine now.” Roman groans as he leans down and licks the length of your pussy, tasting your blood again.

“Well, I like the sound of that, I just might have to run away, afterall…” You sigh dramatically and it's cut off with a squeak when Roman lands a smack on your pussy. “Hey!”

“You’re a fucking, brat, aren’t you, an angel in desguise?” Roman smacks your pussy again and you’re so wet it echoes off the walls. “I won’t hesitate to punish you in the future. But right now I need to feel that tight fucking pussy wrapped around my cock.”

Roman pushes his pants and boxers down his hips, freeing his hard, thick cock. He grabs onto the sides of his shirt, ripping the buttons open and shoving it off his shoulders. He leans down and wraps his hand around your throat, his mouth watering at the feeling of your blood pumping against his palm. He takes his cock in his other hand and taps it on your clit a few times before lining up with your entrance and slamming deep inside you. There’s no build up, no time to think with the way he brutally fucks into you.

“Oh my fucking god.” You moan and wrap your legs around romans hips, using your heel clad feet to push him deeper. Roman continues to squeeze your throat, addicted to the feeling of your pumping blood as your pussy practically constricts his cock.

“You’re so fucking tight, fuck. Let me see these tits, baby.” Roman’s free hand reaches down to pull your tank top down below your chest. Your tits bounce free and he roughly takes one in his hand, pinching your nipple hard. “Even more perfect than your little pictures.”

He leans down to take one in his mouth and he lets his grip on your throat fall so he can twist your opposite nipple. Your back arches off the bed as your hands grip onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. Roman continues to pound into your pussy, this new angle has him hitting deeper and his pelvis bumps against your clit deliciously.

“God, Roman, you feel so fucking good.” Breathy moans leave your lips as you try to meet his erratic thrusts. His mouth moves onto your other tit and he bites down on your nipple surprisingly gently. “Bite me harder. Drink from me.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking, doll.” Roman plants sloppy kisses on your chest and up your neck before running his perfect, pointed nose along your jugular. He kisses along the column of your neck and nips at your skin. “What if I can't stop?”

“I trust you.” You sigh dreamily as you run your fingers through his hair. “I want it, please?”

Roman pushes himself up on his hands so he can look down at you with his shiny, viridescent eyes, he searches your face for doubt but all he sees is lust and a look of trust that he hasn’t seen anyone give him in a long time. Everyone in his life fears him, aside from Peter, that is. But this is different, you’re almost looking at him like you love him or something. Then you do it, you crane your head to the side, exposing your neck further to him and Roman thinks he might be in love with you.

“Fuck it.” Roman slams his hips against yours roughly and grabs onto the back of your head as he leans down and licks across your neck. He plants a few sloppy kisses there, inhaling your taste and savoring the way your heart beats against his lips before sinking his teeth into your delicate skin. He isn’t sure if this or your pussy tasted better but something about you trusting him with your life makes this different. It makes him fucking crazy. You make him fucking crazy.

“Shit, that feels amazing.” Your eyes roll back at the feeling of Roman’s teeth puncturing your skin as he pulls your blood from your body. He’s still fucking you like a man posessed and it’s all you’ve ever wanted. “Take as much as you need, daddy.”

Roman straight up growls into your throat at that, his thrusts somehow becoming even rougher. His free hand travels between your legs to rub circles on your clit and it sends you over the edge. You see stars as your orgasm wracks through your entire body. Once you come down, Roman pulls his teeth from your neck and licks the bloody wound they left behind.

“That’s my good girl, fucking come for me.” Roman takes your jaw in his big hand and pulls your lips against his in a filthy kiss, filling your mouth with that metallic taste mixed with something that’s purely Roman. When he pulls away, he licks the blood that smeared on your lips from his own. “Fucking addicted to your taste, you’re so sweet, like candy. My little candy girl.”

“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” You admit it with your full chest, as if it wasn’t already obvious. You bring your nails up and run them down his chest, leaving lines of scratch marks. “You can taste me whenever you want.”

“You’re so fucking hot.” Roman pushes up on his knees and grips onto your thighs, tossing them over his shoulder. It has his cock hitting places you didn’t even know were there. Roman grips onto your throat again, leaning down and nearly folding you in half. He shoves his face into your neck and licks the blood still gathered where his teeth pierced your skin and that’s all it takes to have his cock twitches inside of you, filling you with ropes of his cum.

“Fuck yes, milk my dick, angel.” Roman doesn’t stop fucking you until his cock starts to soften inside you and then he collapses on top of you. His weight crushes you into the mattress but it feels good and you bring your fingers up to tickle across his back and into his silky hair. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Roman chuckles into your neck and it fills your tummy with a million butterflies.

“Yeah? How so?” Roman pushes himself up on his hands so he can look down at you with a smile you’ve never seen before. It’s warm and sweet and you never want it to go away.

“Well, first of all, you practically stalked me. You broke into my house, and then you offered me your blood as if me killing you wasn’t a very real possibility. You’re kinda crazy” Roman chuckles as his hand comes up to cup your cheek and you swear you’re going to melt. “It’s pretty sexy though. You really gonna be my little blood bag?”

“Oh! So he does have a sense of humor!” You giggle and Roman rolls his eyes and flips onto his back. You take the opportunity to straddle him and look down at him like he hung the stars and it makes his heart beat weird. You’re so fucking pretty sitting on him with your hair all mused and your tits out, your pretty little neck decorated with his bite mark. “Jokes aside though, I meant that.”

“Well shiiit, who am I to say no to that?” Roman laughs, like for real laughs and it lights up his entire face. Now that you’ve accomplished your goal of getting him, your new one is to make him laugh like that, everyday.

“Does this mean your boyfriend now?” Roman grabs onto your braids, pulling your face down so it’s only an inch away from his while he gives you that bright smile you want to bottle up and save for a rainy day.

“Yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend or whatever, blood bag.” You giggle and Roman kisses you lovingly and way more gently than before. You knew you could break him. And now he’s yours.

Some of you might recognize my writing and aesthetic, if you do, hello! This is where I’ll be writing from now on. I’ll be writing for several different characters and I hope you enjoy the ride!✨

Tagging my Bill babes: @rafescorpsebride @taintandviolent (<- shout out to you pookie for shaking my Roman brain worm that never sleeps) @eerielamb @that-sarcastic-writer 🤍

Divider by @anitalenia

[musicallisto]

oooh may i request a 17 + 24 for charles x reader? 🤭

17. tracing tanlines under a fingertip && 24. balcony views — charles leclerc

"JESUS CHRIST, CHARLES, when you said Ferrari was getting under your skin I didn't think you meant that literally."

"What?"

He turns around, quizzical, and the fading light of day catches more irregular motifs on his pectorals and clavicles than you'd even noticed. You can't help snorting at the sight.

"You're lobster red!"

A beat passes, during which Charles stares at you like a fish out of water, and then he's wiggling around, trying to catch a glimpse of every patch of skin on his torso, and when he cranes his neck to inspect his upper back he almost trips on the shirt he's just discarded to the floor.

"Putainnn," he drags out, a defeated moan that slumps out of his lips just like his shoulders. "Argh! C'est pas vrai..."

"That's what happens when you try to apply sunscreen yourself like a big boy." Your laugh is soft, your head shaking gently as you observe your husband, crimson stripes all over his back and shoulders like the brushstrokes of some tropical Van Gogh. "Come on, go sit on the terrace."

He does as he's told, shuffling his feet over to the chaises longues on the large, roofed balcony. When you step out the hotel room, favorite assortment of aloe vera ointments in hand, you find him sitting on the edge of the chair, pressing two fingers onto the red gash on his arm. When he lifts them and they reveal white skin that immediately fades back to carmine, he sighs.

"Not to say I told you so," you drag one of the chairs over, "but..."

"You told me so."

He grumbles like a toddler proven wrong—the swirling shapes of his sunburns are certainly reminiscent of a kindergartner's drawings. Even so, your smile is delicate, easy like an evening shower when you coax a ribbon of aloe vera cream onto your palm and rub your hands together.

"Tell me if it hurts."

Instead, Charles lets out a long, blissful exhale as soon as your cool fingertips press against his bare back.

Slowly, gently, you trace the outline of his burns, where a nascent tan fades into red patterns; you study the confines of skin he overlook in the morning, cajole the corners of him where even his fingertips won't go. That's when the gentle breeze picks up, born out of the Atlantic's froth, and dishevels the Brazilian foliage below and Charles' salt-kissed hair.

You feel him melt beneath your touch like so many times before.

"This is nice, actually," he murmurs, low and deep like the rumble of the ocean somewhere over the railing.

"Yeah, well, if you want a massage, just ask next time, there's no need to fuck up your skin like that, alright?"

"This never happens to me in Monac—aouch," he winces, but the sound is soon lost to the breeze, too.

"We're not in Monaco right now," you reply with a peculiar reverie, as though you aren't really here either, but someplace else, in the valleys that stretch out between Charles' moles.

He, on the other hand, looks over your hunched shoulders, to the late-afternoon that sprinkles golden lighting over the jungle. In the distance, he thinks he can make out a flock of tropical birds spinning in the milky sky like dancers, though it could be a trick of light. How to be sure, on this island where life commences anew, but oh so different?

"Yes, that's for sure," he concedes, pensive. But his eyes tear from the sprawling view and travel up to your concentrated face, and he scrunches into a solar grin.

"I think you should be good... though you should probably keep your shirt on for the next few days. Even if it pains me horribly to say it," you release him from the cooling balm, and are about to step back and put the tube away when he grabs your hand and pulls you back to him. Into the radiating heat of his body and the midday brightness of his gaze.

"Thanks for taking care of me."

"Of course, Charles," you reply in a genteel hum. The Monégasque rubs his thumb across your wedding band. "That's what I signed up for."

Neither of you makes a move; only your heads turn to the magnificent ocean, and, very far, its horizon where heavy clouds gather. All of the sunset's oranges and pinks ricochet off of their dark gray, and somehow you are certain they end their course back with you. Curled up in your promontory.

The rain, after a while, scatters off into the ocean, quietly.

© musicallisto, 2025 MASTERLIST / INBOX ⤷ liked this fic? then you might enjoy... adoration (cl16)!

[silens-oro]

You Know Where You Are: Part III

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Musician!Reader Angst/Established Relationship Part I | Part II

The Pitt Playlist located here The Pitt Masterlist

Synopsis: The aftermath of PittFest. Word Count: 5,542 (somebody sedate me) Content Warning: Reader is in her 30's; mass shooting; death; blood; gunshot injuries; angst; grief; medical procedures; I don't know anything about anything medical, but I did Dr. Google some things so please forgive inconsistencies - if I've missed any warnings, please let me know. A/N: Thank you all for the love this story has gotten. I anticipate one more part to this before it's over, so hang tight. For now, I leave this as a lil Friday treat because you deserve it.

Internal strangulation was the first thing you felt as your mind clawed its way back to consciousness. Your body felt heavy and weightless, like you were floating to the surface from the deep, dark depths of the ocean in search of the sun. An invasion of your airway and your mouth caused you to choke and sputter as you thrashed involuntarily. 

Your arms didn’t move further than an inch or two as you squirmed and the sound in your ears rushed and rolled as if you were listening through a conch shell on the beach. Beeping -incessant beeping, was the first clear sound that came though, splitting your head in half with each throttle of sound, then the squeaks of sneakers approached you. 

“Check vitals. Someone grab Dr. Martin, please.” A woman’s muffled voice was the first you heard, then chattering around the room that didn’t sound human to your ears. It was indistinct, muffled, slurred. You sank, then floated, then sank again before floating back to the surface. So close with the light hitting your face, and still just far enough out of reach. 

Your eyes, crusted at the seams, tried to crack open, but whatever was inside of you made you panic when they didn’t. Multiple sets of hands held you down and a cool, damp cloth was wiped over your eyes to clear the debris. Your name was called out softly once, twice, then a third time. 

“I know you’re scared, but I need you to calm down. We’re gonna check you out to see if we can get this tube out of you as quickly as we can, but you need to settle so we can do it, alright?” Your eyes finally cracked open for the first time in what felt like centuries. The woman -a nurse- was standing over you. Her gloved hand was cradling the side of your head to comfort you, but there was no amount of comfort to stop your heart from feeling like it was going to beat out of your rib cage. She said your name again to get your attention back on her. 

“My name is Kate. Do you know where you are?” Your hands had a white knuckle grip on the wrist restraints as people moved in and out of the room. You shook your head, your brain was going haywire and the sudden hit of stimulation from every direction was too much to handle. “Can someone call downstairs to let Dr. Robby know she’s awake?” Kate spoke sternly to whoever was listening behind her. Mike, oh god, Mike. This caused your heart rate to skyrocket. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I need you to let the tube breathe for you, alright. Let it do its job until we can take it out.” She was doing her best to calm you, but it felt like you could run through a wall with the way adrenaline pumped through your body. “You’re at Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Center. Do you remember how you got here?”

You were on stage. Then screaming. Then Nick, blood, face down, Jake, dragged, Mac. Your eyes squeezed closed, tears leaking down your face. 

“That’s okay, don’t strain yourself.” She turned as another set of footsteps was heard behind her. “Sweetheart, this is Dr. Martin.” A man came into view. He was older than Mike and he had a neutral expression on his face as he looked you over, then over to the monitors, “He’s gonna help us get this breathing tube out, alright.” You nodded tearfully. 

“Well good afternoon to you. It’s good to finally see you up,” He spoke gently, then turned to a nurse you just noticed was on the other side of your bed. “How is she looking?”

“Good for extubation.” She confirmed. He nodded, snapping blue gloves on his hands as the two nurses surrounded you. 

“Alright, let’s get these straps off.” He spoke your name as he started disconnecting straps that held the tube in place while the nurses undid your wrist restraints. Your hands flexed against the bed, gripping the scratchy top blanket in a deathgrip. “I need you to take a deep breath and when you exhale, I’m going to remove the tube, alright?” You nodded, pleading with your eyes to just remove it. “Good, go ahead and take a nice deep breath in,” It hurt, but you did as he asked. You felt something in your throat deflate. “Perfect, now exhale slowly for me.” The tube made a squelching sound as it came out, the feeling of it sliding out caused you to cough and sputter, drool and mucus following the tube as it finally ended. A nurse pushed the button on the bed to get you to sit up as much as you could so she could hold a small pink bucket under your mouth as you continued to cough and dry heave into your lap. 

“I know it’s unpleasant, but getting it removed is a good thing.” Someone was rubbing small circles into your back and you were sure that a glare sat heavy on your face, but Dr. Martin didn’t make note of it outwardly. “I’m sure you have some questions, but I’d like to go over why you’re here so you can understand the situation. Nurse Kate, if you could please stick around.” She nodded to the other nurse, who took her leave and shut the door behind her. 

Dr. Marin sat on the edge of the bed and Nurse Kate handed him a tablet. He swiped a few times and turned the screen so you could see it. It was an MRI scan of your torso with certain areas circled. 

“You were shot.” He said simply. “It went in at an angle through your back here,” He pointed at the scan where the entry wound was, then pointed at the upper part of your abdomen, “and exited right here. It lacerated your liver and there was some pretty extensive bleeding. Had you gotten here any later than you did, we would not be having this conversation.” Your hands began to shake, their grip on the blanket not letting up. “The good news is that we were able to repair the damage and that your liver was the only organ hit. There will be a pretty good chunk of recovery time for you, and some scarring, but in the long run there shouldn’t be any lasting physical damage and physical therapy will definitely help aid your recovery. That being said, our social worker Kiara is going to stop by at some point to chat with you. She has a wealth of knowledge and resources to help you navigate your next steps regarding what you experienced.” He brought his hand to rest on top of your right shaking fist, giving it a comforting squeeze. “We are going to keep you here for monitoring for the next week or so until you’re up on your own two feet, so get comfortable. You’re in great hands. I’m here if you have any questions, alright? For now just rest as much as you can.” He glanced over to Kate, then he stood, gave you a nod with a small smile, and exited the room. 

You looked around the dim room for the first time since you woke up. Flowers, cards, stuffed animals, and ‘Get Well Soon!’ balloons took over every surface and carried over onto the floor. How long were you out?

“You have a lot of people who’ve been real worried about you.” Kate said softly. “Dr. Robby should be up in a few. He was up here earlier to check in on you, but you were still out. He’s been worried sick. Night shift tells me Dr. Abbot’s been checking in as well.” You were afraid to speak, worried that opening your mouth would let the proverbial floodgates open.”You know them?” You nodded.  

“Are you feeling any pain?” Kate offered with a smile. How could you tell her that that’s all you felt, mentally, physically, emotionally? All you could do was shake your head, your chest tightening with sobs ready to be unleashed. Tears welled in your eyes and she took that as her cue to give you some space. “I’m gonna grab you some ice cubes to soothe your throat, alright? I’ll be back in a few.” She softly closed the door and that’s when you let out a deep gasp of air, it was deep enough to choke you and there was no reeling it back in. 

Robby happened to be outside in triage when a white pickup pulled into the ambulance bay, honking frantically to get their attention. 

“We’ve got four back here,” Dr. Shen called out for the triage team as he climbed in the bed of the truck. “Through and through the head. No pulse, black and white,” He verbally noted as he took stock of who could actually be treated. “Red zone, GSW to the abdomen, low pulse, heavy blood loss, unresponsive.” Shen and Ellis slapped bracelets on each victim as they were called out.

“Red zone, GSW left chest,” Ellis called out, slapping another bracelet on the third person in the back of the truck. “Weak carotid, unresponsive.”

“They were both talking when we got in the truck,” Jake tried to keep himself together as he spoke to Ellis. Robby’s ears perked up the second he heard the voice and bolted to the truck. “They were bleeding so much and I couldn’t stop it!” Jake was becoming frantic.

“Jake!” Robby’s voice boomed in the ambulance bay as he picked up into a sprint over to the truck. 

“Robby! They were shot!” He sobbed your name, “-and Leah! It’s really bad!” Robby climbed over the side of the truck and stopped in his tracks when he saw you, slumped over and covered in blood. The color, the life, was drained from your face and the bloody shirt held to your abdomen was all he needed to see to get him moving. His fingers went under your jaw, checking for the pulse that was hanging on by a thread. It took a few seconds for him to find it, but it was there -faint- but there. 

“We need gurneys over here!” His voice cracked as everyone moved into action. His manic eyes went from you to Jake, then down to Leah who was also unresponsive. He held a hand to Leah’s chest and his heart sank when he didn’t feel anything. “Get them loaded and inside, now!” He helped pull you from the truck, quickly assessing the damage. It was bad. You lost a lot of blood and god only knew the damage the round had done internally. Shen picked up where Robby left off so he could assess Jake and Leah.

“I’ve been putting pressure on the wounds as best as I could, but it’s bad, Robby!” Jake tried to be useful with any info he could.

“You did a good job, kid,” Robby reassured Jake, looking him over. “Are you shot?”

“I don’t know. Maybe-maybe my leg? Most of this is their blood,” A pink bracelet was slapped on his wrist and he was pulled up. 

“You know them, boss?” Ellis asked. Robby felt like he was going to puke.

“Yeah. Come on, let’s go.” Robby’s voice boomed to get everyone back into high gear. They didn’t have time to lose.

Jack turned to look at the exit to triage to see one gurney come in with a young teen, then Robby pushed another behind it. When Jack saw you, he immediately turned over the patient he was finishing up with to Langdon before rushing over to Robby.

Robby’s eyes shifted between Leah -Jake sobbing for him to do something-, and back down to you before Jack made the decision for Robby by taking your gurney to his trauma area to begin intubation to get you stable without a second thought. Ellis repeated your status to Jack to give him an idea of what he was walking into.

Robby trusted Jack, knew you were in the best hands in this ED where his own hands had failed so many times today already, so he let Jack do what he did best while he began working on Leah and trying to settle Jake. 

“Intubation, chest tube, IO, and a unit of blood,” Jack called to his team who were moving faster than he could give out orders. “We’ve got an entrance and an exit, through and through. That’s the  good news,” Jack spoke out loud, loud enough for Robby to hear from across the room. He didn’t tell Robby the wound was in No Man’s Land because he didn’t need to hear it. Not now. 

Robby couldn’t help but take quick glances across the room once the breathing tube had been inserted. Your face was obscured, but he could see that your shirt had been cut open, your tattooed body exposed to a room full of strangers, but it didn’t matter. None of it would matter if you didn’t make it out of this department alive. His knees almost buckled at the thought of your gurney being wheeled into the peds room to join the three others who they already lost. 

Robby shook his head to banish the thought and give Leah everything he had. 

Jack would glance up and over, cool as a cucumber, to catch Robby’s eyes, then he’dshift them back down to where he was doing everything he could, pulling every trick he had from up his sleeve to get you stable. Jack knew the odds weren’t exactly in your favor, but one glance at the girl on Robby’s gurney and he knew she wasn’t making it at all. You had a fighting chance, and it would be all uphill for Jack, but there was a chance. 

The tension inside of Robby’s body wound tighter and tighter with every breath he took. Looking down at Leah, he knew in his heart of hearts that she wasn’t going to make it out of this -not with the wound that she had, but that didn’t stop him from exhausting every effort for Jake’s sake because he had to do something -anything. He couldn’t throw in the towel, not when she was so young with so much more life to live, and not when Jake was happy. 

Robby couldn’t call it. He couldn’t face the reality of what was happening, so he kept frantically pushing and pushing until there was nothing left to give.  It was the flash of movement from your gurney being wheeled behind the HUB and over to the elevator for the pre-OP that caught Robby’s attention. Jack seemed to teleport next to him in that moment and he leaned in close so only Robby could hear him.

“She’s stable. There’s damage to her liver and some soft tissue, massive blood loss, but she’s stable, brother.” Robby nodded, continuing to push the cell saver. “How many units so far?” Jack asked, arms crossed over his chest. His brows were furrowed as he watched Robby work and call shots when he knew this wasn’t turning around. 

“Four, plus the cell saver.” Jack nodded. 

“Last one?” It was more of a suggestion than a question from Jack. If he had to make the call, a single unit probably wouldn’t have gone to her in her condition. It sounded harsh, but it couldn’t be wasted on someone who had zero chance of survival when there were dozens of other patients who could have used it -especially since their supply was dwindling rapidly and patients were still pouring in. 

“I don’t know.” Robby was in denial. Jack looked down at Leah and saw what the reality was. “Dana, why don’t we try a little TXA? 1,000 milligrams of TXA might help her clot.” Dana tried to hold it together after seeing you wheeled in with Jake attached to Leah’s side. She looked at Jack with devastation in her eyes because she was of the same belief as him regarding Leah’s status even though she wouldn’t say it out loud. Nonetheless, she did what Robby asked. 

“Bullet tore through her heart,” Jack said softly, but it was something Robby needed to hear. “Anyone with a wound like this is pronounced dead in the field. You can’t keep up with the blood loss.” He tried to reason. “If she was our only patient we’d do a thoracotomy, maybe ECMO, but even then I doubt we’d get her back.” Robby moved back to chest compressions. He knew Jack was right, but he couldn’t let go. “We’re gonna lose ten other patients if you put all your efforts into saving this girl.” He said it point blank. Pussyfooting around the issue wasn’t getting through to Robby. This was the reality. Leah was gone and nothing Robby did was going to save her.

Nurse Kate had been gone ten minutes when you heard a quiet knock on the door. It cracked open and Mike’s head popped in to scope out the situation. When his eyes locked on yours he pushed himself through and shut the door.

You could feel it, the surging tsunami of emotions coming to the surface and the telltale wobble of your bottom lip was all it took for Mike to get to your side as you sobbed viscerally. He sat on the side of the bed and hugged you to him as best as he could while you cried against his throat. 

“I’m so sorry, Mike,” It devastated him. Your first sentence spoken to him since the morning of the shooting, voice raspy and visceral, and you were apologizing to him. He tried to keep it together, he really did, but the last three days were wave after wave of grief, agony, pain and suffering, and he had nothing left to hold onto. 

His cheek nestled itself onto the top of your head as he held you to him. “I’m sorry. God,” Your breathing was ragged against him. “Please tell me Jake’s alright and Leah.” Robby didn’t know if he could handle this conversation. “I couldn’t help them, Mike. Please tell me they’re alright,” You begged him. If something happened to either of them you would never forgive yourself. Robby put the pieces together that you either forgot Leah was in the truck with you or you just weren’t even coherent at that point and his heart continued to shatter into tinier and tinier pieces until it was dust. 

“Jake’s fine,” Mike spoke into your hair, trying to keep his voice even, but you could hear the wobble. “He’s got a minor wound on his leg. He’ll be on crutches for a while, but he’s okay.” He felt a breath of relief leave you. He couldn’t tell you about how Jake had let him feel every bit the failure as a doctor, as a father figure, as a friend. “Leah…” Your grip on his zip-up got so tight that your knuckles cracked. He didn’t say it out loud, but you felt him shake his head. “And Nick…” Tears fell from Robby’s exhausted eyes at your devastated wails. His eyes were clenched shut, his deepening crow’s feet exacerbated by the tension used to keep them shut. 

The fact that he could physically hold you in his arms was the first win he had in days. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you next to Leah in the Peds room, you and the five other poor souls who didn’t make it out of the ED. 

“I’m sorry,” His voice cracked as he repeated it over and over, his arms never leaving you. “I tried.”

It was around seven that night when you finally got Robby to go home and sleep. Your tears had mostly subsided, but there was an emptiness -a hollow pit- forming where the raw emotions left behind a trail of devastation. It had only been three days since the shooting, but Robby seemed to have aged ten years. His usually neat and trimmed beard was unruly. He had dark circles that weighed heavy under his eyes. His clothes were wrinkled, slept in, and he looked beyond exhausted. He was running on the leftover vapors of fumes and he couldn’t work under those conditions, much less function. He shouldn’t be working at all, but he threw himself into the only thing he had an illusion of control over. You reassured him that you’d be fine and that you weren’t going anywhere until he finally relented, promising to return in a few hours. 

The truth was that you needed him out. 

The more you looked at Mike, the more you saw Leah, and the more you saw Leah, the more you thought about the fact that it was supposed to be him on that stage with Jake and it made you furious. Furious that you fought with him because he decided not to go. Furious because you iced him out when he flippantly dropped it on you the morning of PittFest, which in retrospect wasn’t even a big issue, but his decision saved his life. It was you who fought to put him in danger. Hindsight was always 20/20 and realistically you couldn’t have known that this was going to happen, but you should’ve. It was always a possibility, especially with the current way of the world. 

It was inevitable, but it shouldn’t be. 

You saw Mike in Leah’s place in that truck, the few glimpses your brain kept locked away, every time you closed your eyes. You didn’t know if they were actual memories of her or if your brain had put the images together to further torment yourself. The hallucinations of Mike motionless, bleeding out, while you couldn’t even help yourself was agonizing. And it played over and over in various scenarios to the point of near madness. His death layered over Leah’s death played over and over in a vicious loop, over and over until you wanted to rip the hair from your scalp. 

God, Leah. She was so excited to meet you and the rest of the guys before your set. She was sweet and bubbly, kind and an overall ray of sunshine. Jake and Leah were attached at the hip the entire afternoon and you remembered feeling so happy for them. 

Now she was gone, a young life cut disastrously short in the blink of an eye for no reason. Her death ate away at you, gnawing at the frayed edges of your soul like a parasite and you couldn’t get her smiling face out of your mind no matter how hard you rubbed at your eyes. Jake would never recover from this, not fully. How could he? If he felt even a fraction of the guilt and anger you did, it would be a long time before he crawled out of that hole that kept going deeper and deeper. 

You retreated further and further into yourself that night until you were spiraling into a deep, dark prison of your own making. It was a place you could shut yourself off, let your boat drift from the dock to flow along the gentle, black currents -adrift at sea with nothing tying you to the present. 

The next time a nurse came in to check on you, you had her make a note that you didn’t want any visitors going forward unless they were ran by you first, and that included Mike. 

“Robby,” Jack announced himself as he entered the post-op room, “Any changes?” His voice was just above a whisper when he shut the door behind him so he didn’t disturb the quiet peace that had settled over the space. It was nearing three in the morning and Jack had returned to the hospital around two just as he told Robby he would after going home and getting a couple hours rest. 

Robby startled from his thoughts, his head swiveling to meet his counterpart before shaking it softly. His hands were clasped around yours, an anchor to hold onto you in every way he could.

“No, nothing yet.” They both watched over you, looking for any sign of life other than the steady beeping. The color started to return to your skin, noticeable even in the dim room. It was a step in the right direction, at least. Your vitals were steady every time Robby checked them and you hadn’t moved an inch since you were wheeled into the room mere hours ago after a successful surgery. 

Robby needed you to wake up -they both did. After Robby’s admission on the roof earlier that night, Jack didn’t know what Robby would’ve actually done had things gone south. 

“Why don’t you go home, get something to eat. Rest for a few hours.” Robby opened his mouth to argue, but Jack just held a hand up. “I’ll come up here to check on her through the morning, alright? And I’ll have the nurses alert me immediately if anything changes. You’ll be the first to know. Please. You’re no good to her if you’re dead on your feet.” Robby nodded, but didn’t move. 

“I…I never got to thank you, Jack. I don’t know how I can.” 

“No thanks needed, brother. I did what I was meant to do.” Jack patted Robby’s shoulder. “I’m here for you. Anything you need, no questions asked.”  

When the news broke the next day that you were awake, people -friends, relatives, acquaintances, people you worked with, toured with- tried to visit and very few of them were granted access. It was pandemonium at the nurses’ station as they tried to corral everyone that came through. 

The more flowers and balloons that were sent made you want to throw up every time a nurse brought the gifts in with a sad smile. 

So many people lost someone that day -wives, husbands, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, friends. Dozens of people died brutally at the festival grounds, not including the ones who died at PTMC, but it was your band who was the headline of every news station across the country as you found out when you turned the tv on in your room for some background noise. Hearing so many people speak about you and Nick while the other victims were pushed to the background as an afterthought -as a mere number to the death count- was derailing you mentally, and with each photo of Nick that you saw, each clip they played of past shows, you stepped one foot closer to the looming inevitable psychotic break. 

It was when they played recorded footage from someone in the crowd’s perspective of the stage seconds before gunshots could be heard and Nick was hit that you lost it. The sound of the echoing shots right as the clip cut off caused an immediate involuntary reaction in you. You turned the tv off and threw the remote across the room before you knew what you were doing, gasping for breath. The back and batteries scattered and you didn’t care because that TV was never getting turned back on so long as you were stuck in this room. 

Your day nurse, Rita, ran in at the noise and saw you in bed with your hands pressed tightly over your face. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m sorry! I don’t know-,” Your voice was muffled through your hands. She looked down and saw the remote and its pieces scattered across the floor. Without complaint, Rita picked up each piece, put them back into their places, and placed the remote back on your bed for easy access.

“It’s trauma, hun. Don’t apologize.” She stood at your bedside and checked you over. “Still not sleeping?” You shook your head. “I can get you something to take the edge off a little. Help you relax to get a few hours of shut-eye. You need it.”

“I’m scared to sleep.” You whispered. “I close my eyes and all I can see is my friend who I’ve known since we were 12, a girl I met hours before who was there when she shouldn’t have been, the people in the crowd. I see things that are going to haunt me for the rest of my life, but if I don’t sleep…I can put those thoughts away.” You brushed the tears from your cheeks. “I’m tired of crying, but that's all I can do.”

 “Dr. Robby’s back,” it was the third day in a row he tried to get in and you didn’t budge, and still you just shook your head, eyes not leaving the window. The first morning Robby tried to see you after you sent him home to rest had been a catastrophe when he returned and was denied access to your room. He couldn’t understand what you were doing or why. Exhausted and broken down mentally, he tried to bully the nurses into letting him in. It wasn’t his finest moment, and he wasn’t proud of his behavior (which he apologized for). The nurse had reassured him that she understood but her hands were tied. He wasn’t your doctor so he could not have access unless it was granted and you essentially made the room the hospital’s version of Fort Knox. He tried day after day, but each refusal chipped away at every facet of his being. There was only so much a single person could take. 

Robby refused to say anything to anyone about the way this was crippling him and knowing you would rather suffer alone…it was an unexpected blow that continued to throttle away at his foundation that was already standing on its last leg. Jack saw it. Dana saw it. Everyone in the ED saw it and he swam in the opposite direction when every single one of them threw a life preserver out to him. 

He needed support. He needed you. But how can you lean on someone when you’re both angry, grief stricken, filled with crippling guilt and are horrifically traumatized? How do you work through that when neither of you are in a  headspace that allows for help to be given or taken? How does he fight through it? 

He couldn’t. 

He can’t. 

By the fourth rejection, Robby did something he hadn’t ever done before -he gave up. He went to work and he went home where he suffered in silence because everything around him had imploded in such a catastrophic way that it left no survivors in its wake. He failed every patient that flatlined. He failed Leah. He failed Jake. He failed you. 

Everything fell apart. 

You spent nearly two weeks in the hospital recovering, stewing, and self-sabotaging through a complete cut off from the outside world. Your phone sat on the rolling bedside table, battery dead and crusted with old blood that the nurses couldn’t get out of the cracks of the splintered screen. They offered to charge it for you, but you wanted nothing to do with anything that was waiting for you on the device. 

Your discharge from the hospital couldn’t come soon enough. Sitting in that room, staring at the wall for 23 out of 24 hours a day was getting to you in ways you’d never say out loud. 

The clothes you were wearing the day of the shooting had either been completely soaked in blood or were cut off of you so a nurse brought you a pair of scrubs to go home in and a pair of shoes that had been sitting in their donation box that were a size too big. 

So that’s how you left Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, in a pair of disposable scrubs, a stranger’s shoes, and a plastic bag in hand that held your phone, the key ring that was originally hooked to the belt loop of your bloody jeans, the in-ear monitor that was still strapped to you when you were tossed into the truck, and a bottle of prescription pain meds and sleep aids. 

The townhouse you owned was only two and a half blocks from PTMC so you signed every waiver you needed to to be let out without having someone to take you home. Who would you call to get you anyway? Whoever you had lined up in your brain would want to talk, ask questions. They’d ask how you were feeling. They’d bring up Robby and the tops of your hands itched at the thought of having to face any of it. The skin was already raised and irritated, bleeding in some areas where you couldn’t stop scratching. It was simpler to get yourself back to the home you barely inhabited these days rather than reach out for help. It made sense in your mind anyway. 

Every step on the sidewalk yanked uncomfortably at the incision site on your abdomen and back. The stitches were removed that morning, but the wounds were still tender. The lines that divided the sidewalk held your attention the entire way to the brownstone so you wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone. You looked crazy, perhaps a psych patient escaped from the ward to the average onlooker, which is why you picked up your pace just a bit more regardless of the pull you felt from your side. 

Please like, comment & reblog :)

[bunnyclawzz]

Can you do more hyperfem reader x Mohawk mark??

Yesyesyes!! I lovee mohawk Mark so much, I might make this a little series😋

Opposites!

Mohawk Mark x Hyperfem!reader

Going shopping with you would be a full-time job to anyone who wasn't him. He never got bothered when you would ask to go. Yeah, he had those snarky little comments, but her never actually meant any of them

"Maarrkk? Can you come to the mall wi-" he didn't even let you finish asking for his company before he cut you off in a rude yet affectionate way. "Stop asking me like I'm ever gonna let you go alone. The hell do you even need from there anyways?" he questioned without even looking up from his phone. His response had a warm grin blossoms onto your face, the kind of smile that he could tell was there without needing to turn to check. A soft hum leaves your glossed lips before you reply. "Wanna get new clothes for spring. Maybe early summer shoppin' too. Maybe we can get some for you too!' you'd offer all enthusiastically as if you were the one paying for any items. He turns his head to face you, raising an eyebrow at you with a slanted head "..Sure. Whatever you pick, princess" he spoke, purposely using the nickname that always made you feel all warm inside and out.

Just like clockwork, each and every time you were shopping with him he would follow you around like a stray dog. He'd carry whichever drink you had chosen for the warm afternoon-weather it's a iced soda, a boba tea, or an overly sugared iced coffee, it's in his hand while you wander around whichever shop caught your attention first. "Hmm.." you buzz softly, eyes scanning around for just a moment. Your soft hand takes his rough and hard-skinned one to lead him into a store that makes him look like an action figure stuck into a dollhouse.

"Mark," you began as you lifted a lacy pink baby doll top up into his view "do you like this?" you questioned as your free hand ran along the pastel fabric. He had no time to respond before you continued on with the questions. "Or do you like the yellow one better? Oh-they have blue! You like blue, right?" He couldn't hold back the big smile that plastered across his face as you trailed on and on about the colors of the tops that had your attention. "I do like blue, yeah, but you shouldn't just get something 'cause it's a color I like" You're silent for a few seconds, clearly up in your head thinking about something. After just another second you click your tongue and shake your head, you voice coming out like the curb of a morning bird. "Nope!" You said, popping the 'p' in the word as you set the pink top down and reached for the French blue colored one instead, "Already got an outfit for it planned in my head." He chuckles at your words. His hand reaches out to take the top, holding it up to your body in attempt to get a visual. "Yeah? Can't wait to see it on" He said in a low murmur as he eyed you up.

Just around an hour into the trip you had your own drink in hand, sipping contently as your boyfriend followed you around whilst carrying all your shopping bags, all full of items purchased by him. Store after store, changing room after changing room and giving endless input and compliments and watching you swatch an endless amount of lippies only to buy you one new lipstick and a new mascara tube-how could he not spoil you? You're the one thing in his life that is absolutely perfect in and out, he has to treat you as what you are. "Princess," he began with a soft sigh, "Come on, we're sitting at the food court for a minute. Just the sound of those shoes tells me they're uncomfortable" he said as he gestured to the open-toed kitten heels on your feet. He barely let your brain process the words, just quick to take you by the wrist and tug you to the first open seats he could find.

"Alright," he spoke again, "I"m getting you a burger and fries. Do you want a new drink?" You didn't respond for a few seconds. Your eyes got glued to him, admiring him and all he does for you for just a few seconds before you answered. "...get me a lemonade?" "Got it" he said as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. "I'll be right back, just sit and rest your feet for a few minutes."

Upon meeting Mark, the weirdo-punk with the spiky mohawk and short temper, you never thought you'd like him, let alone date him. You would've never dreamt that being paired with said weirdo would lead to you being treated like royalty and being absolutely spoiled rotten whenever he could. Can’t help but adore his very unlikely girlfriend

[demie90s]

can you do a pazzi x reader where reader is on vacation with her friends without paige and azzi and reader is posting pictures and paige and azzi don’t really like them because of how much she’s showing and they miss her so they try to talk to her on the phone but they end up doing things on the phone with each other if you know what i mean

Sorry Not Sorry

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd x fem!reader

NAVIGATE | MORE

Summary: You’re on vacation with your friends, looking fine and feeling free, but your girlfriends don’t appreciate the thirst traps.

Genre: SMUT. Long-distance tension, possessive!Paige & Azzi, emotional teasing

Warnings: 18+, phone sex, explicit language, possessiveness, mutual masturbation

Word Count: ~ 1.5k

Vibe: “you wanna show off? okay…show us.”

I’d only been gone a few days. A little girls’ trip. A little sun. A little too much ass in the mirror—judging by the way my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.

The post had gone up twenty minutes ago: a back-turned bikini pic, legs crossed just enough to tease, water glistening, the caption smug and simple. “Miss me?”

Apparently, they did. Three missed calls from Azzi. One from Paige. And now, FaceTime ringing again.

I roll my eyes and answer. Barely even dressed—just a robe, panties, a tube top and some gloss. “Y’all blowing me up like I left the country.”

Azzi’s the first thing I see, chin in her palm, pout in full effect. “I do miss you,” she says, soft and pitiful.

I damn near melt. “Yeah? My poor baby stuck with Paige. No fun.”

“You act like I’m not on the call too,” Paige says, voice dry as ever, but her eyes linger. I know that look. Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip and she leans back in her chair. “You real comfortable right now, huh?”

I sit up straighter on the hotel bed. “Why wouldn’t I be? The view’s nice.” I tilt the phone to the window behind me for show. Azzi’s quiet for a beat, eyes glued.

“Put the phone back on you,” she whispers.

I laugh, low and throaty. “You not gonna say please?”

Paige groans. “Here we go.”

“No, let her talk,” I say, panning slowly back to my face. “You miss me, right Az? Then use your words.”

“I miss you so much,” she says, voice dipped in that soft, needy register that always gets me. “I wanted to hear you… and see you.”

“Ohh, my sweet girl,” I tease, licking my lips, just enough to make her shift a little. “But what do you want to see?”

Azzi’s breath hitches. She doesn’t answer.

“She wanna see everything,” Paige answers for her, eyes a little darker now, lips parted. “Same way everybody else on the ’gram just did, huh?”

“Jealous?” I ask, knowing damn well.

Azzi shifts again, whispering, “Maybe a little…”

“I mean, y’all called me,” I murmur, dragging the camera down my neck. “I was gonna go to bed.”

“You should,” Paige says, but her voice is husky now. “Turn the lights off. Get under the covers. Talk to us.”

Azzi’s already leaned back against a pillow. “Yeah… talk to us.”

“Just talk?” I ask, drawing lazy circles on my thigh with one finger, the camera slipping just low enough for a glimpse of skin. “That all y’all want?”

Azzi looks like she’s holding her breath. Paige’s hand disappears off screen for a second.

“…That’s what I thought.”

I smile at the screen, tilt my head real sweet like I’m about to say grace—and drop the robe to the floor.

Tube top hugging tight, pink panties riding low. And I know what I’m doing.

“All this room,” I say slow, stepping back so they get the full view, “and just me…”

Azzi’s eyes flutter. That pout? Gone. Lips parted now, glossy and full. She’s laid back on a stack of pillows, hair spilling everywhere, skin flushed. Paige is next to her, one arm holding her weight, the other—

Phone shaking. Grin crooked.

“Oh, y’all watching like I’m HBO,” I laugh, walking toward the phone again with a roll of my eyes. “You better tip me.”

Paige’s voice is low, steady, wicked: “Show us somethin’, baby.”

Azzi whimpers. “Please…”

I hum, then sigh like I’m considering a favor. I pick the phone back up, angle it downward. Slow. Real slow. Chest first, down my stomach, teasing the hem of my panties with one hand while the other holds the screen steady.

“Mmm. I miss my girls,” I whisper, like I didn’t just hear Azzi let out a moan she tried to swallow. “I want you. I need you…”

I pull the front of my panties to the side just a little—just enough to flash the glisten. “This kitty stay on go,” I murmur, two fingers dragging up slow.

Paige licks her lips. “Goddamn.”

Azzi’s head falls back against the pillow. She covers her face with one hand, like she can’t even handle it, but I catch the way her hips shift. Just the sight of me got her undone.

I smirk. “Y’all got each other though,” I say, biting my lip as I trace light, teasing circles. “Can’t relate. Guess I’ll just have to handle it myself.”

I spread my legs on the bed, lean back against the headboard, and tilt the phone just right—just enough for them to see but never touch.

“Don’t blink,” I whisper, smile turning wicked. “I do this for y’all.”

I drag my fingers over the slick heat between my legs, slow and easy, like I got all night. Because I do. Azzi’s chest rises. She covers her mouth, moaning into her palm like she forgot we were still here.

Paige don’t let nothing slide. She reaches over and pulls Azzi’s hand away, just enough to let the sound spill out.

“Yo—you’re so pretty,” Azzi breathes, voice cracking around the words. “F-fuck…”

I laugh, low and sweet. “Say it again.”

But Azzi can’t—her head’s back, lips trembling. Paige grins, her mouth brushing against Azzi’s neck as she starts kissing slow, mean. The kind that make your back arch. I know that mouth.

Then Paige disappears out of frame.

I pout immediately. “Don’t tell me y’all dipping on me…”

But then I hear it. That sound.

The wet, rhythmic pulse of two bodies meeting. Sloppy, soaked, like every inch of them got hungry the second I went live. I lean back, smiling lazy, lips slick with my own spit as I press a finger in deeper.

A small whimper leaks from Azzi, and I close my eyes just listening—letting it get me there. Clits kissing. Bodies moving.

Me putting on the performance of my life.

“I love when y’all fuck” I whisper, working my hips into my hand. “You always get wetter when I watch, huh?”

Azzi props the phone on the bed, angled just right so I fill the screen. The sheets are bunched around her thighs, one leg thrown over Paige’s shoulder. She’s breathless, flushed, eyes barely open—but still watching me.

Paige’s moans break through the air now, low and rough as her hips grind deep. She’s holding Azzi’s leg with both hands, firm grip, her whole body rocking into it. Like she’s been waiting for this—needing this—and finally let go.

I smile, lips slick, two fingers deep and curling just right. My thighs are already trembling, my breath catching, but I don’t stop.

Not till they do.

“You needed me that bad?” I whisper, voice sticky sweet. “Couldn’t wait?”

Paige doesn’t answer. Can’t. She’s lost in it. Her head drops for a second, buried in Azzi’s shoulder. And Azzi—Azzi’s back arches, a high-pitched moan slipping out as her hips jerk up.

They’re close. I can feel it through the screen.

And I’m still working my fingers, smooth and slow, my free hand teasing over my chest, tugging at my top, never looking away.

“Come on, baby,” I murmur, watching Azzi squirm. “Let go for me.”

Azzi’s eyes roll back. Her mouth drops open.

Paige is gripping Azzi’s thigh like she owns it, her lips parted, breath hot against her skin. Every roll of her hips is deeper, sloppier—her pace lost all rhythm the second I moaned.

She’s trying to hold it. Trying to stay cool. But her jaw’s clenched and her eyes keep flicking toward the screen. Toward me.

And I’m still at it—fingers slow, slick, putting on a show like my name in lights. Top pushed up, thighs glistening, lips parted in the prettiest fuck me face I know how to make.

“Come on, Paige,” I whisper, arching my back. “Let me hear you.”

She curses under her breath, low and tight. Azzi’s still trembling beneath her, body all used up and shaking, but Paige is too far gone to stop. She fucks through it.

Head low, her leg bracing on the mattress, thrusts getting sloppy—wet sounds filling the phone like a soundtrack. She’s panting now, her voice dropping.

“Fuck… fuck—”

I bite my lip, lock eyes with her on screen, and push my fingers in deep, real deep, just for her. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

And that’s it.

Her head drops. Her whole body tenses. A sharp moan. Punches out her chest as she ruts forward hard one more time—and Paige cums.

Loud. Deep. Unraveled. Azzi’s breathless beneath her, clinging to her arms while Paige groans, her body collapsing into the sheets. The screen shakes. Their camera tilts.

But the sound. That sound of her letting go? I tuck it behind my teeth like a secret and grin.

“Good girls.” I whisper, breath still catching. “Now tell me who makes y’all cum like this.”

Silence. And then— Both at once.

“You do.”

God, I love long distance.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264

[bluebeads-art]

2025 June 25th

Kris glancing back at you when you make them kill 8-bit Susie and Ralsei messed me up, dude. That's gotta be terrifying, not knowing the player's intentions. Like, they only killed them because this is just a game, right? ...right...?

Rambling and behind-the-scenes stuff under the cut

—

Especially terrifying if Kris has the meta-knowledge that they're in a game. Because if so, the previous cope doesn't work.

Originally, I planned to recreate a screenshot of the 8-bit game only so I could paint over it. However, I was going to slap the image into Blender 3D to warp it with a fisheye lens anyways, so I had the idea of making a CRT shader. Turns out I have shader skill issues and wasn't sure where to start! So I copied the homework of u/CalculatedBinary on Reddit. (Link in replies because I'm still paranoid of the days where external URLs blocked posts from showing up in tags / searches. Filter by oldest first if you don't see it right away.)

I did make some changes, though. CalculatedBinary's shader just makes a ray tube overlay that doesn't react to the texture underneath. But I had the idea to split the RGB channels of both the CRT overlay and image texture, darken each color of ray tube by the image texture's corresponding RGB value, then recombine all 3 channels. Might be easier just to show it.

Note that the "CRT shader" input is JUST the CRT overlay. This node group slots into the stage where you mix it with the image texture. Speaking of, unless you're working with a high pixel resolution or are viewing it from far away, you'll need to blend this result with your image texture again afterwards, because uhh...! The effect's real strong, captain!

There's cheater sub-pixels in there to mimic chromatic aberration, but otherwise this is an authentic representation of how CRT screens work! I made some other tweaks to the shader to get the CRT pixels to line up with the image texture pixels more precisely, but I won't get into that unless someone asks because it's nitty-gritty perfectionism stuff.

To circle back to an earlier point, this CRT shader sorta depends on well-defined pixels, so no paint-over for me. Given how long it took me to recreate a screenshot by hand based on nothing but blurry, compressed YouTube videos, I'm considering it fair usage, LMAO. Not like I'm making money off of this.

I love using Blender to solve my problems. Don't know how in the goddamn fisheye lenses work? Blender. Want to make or borrow image filters? Blender. Want that filter to follow the image's perspective? Yep, Blender.

I have minor beef with some of the anatomy and shading, but this piece was taking too long, it's Time to Stop. 😂 I friggin' cooked on the line art and their hair though, heck yea. A shame the dark shadows ate some of it.

Time taken was 33 hours and 38 minutes (at minimum. Forgot to time some of my Blender side-quests.)

[bluefootedbooby]

Hmmmm what about jinx x reader with the hexstrap? 🤭🤭

Take it so well.

nsfw

Jinx was tinkering at her desk, hands fastening intricate leather straps together with rivets. You stride over, smile on your coy face before hugging her.

“Leather? Didn’t realize I was dating a leather smith.”

She chuckles, turning her head to kiss your jawline. “I’m a jack of many trades.” Jinx nibbles the angle of your jaw, kissing and licking your sweet spot. Your hand gently trails to her chest, softly caressing and squeezing her small breasts. Jinx grips your wrist with a smile. “Alright, I gotta focus!” She tilts her head back to her work. You take a moment, your chin on her shoulder, to observe her work.

Yeah… you recognized what it was, a strap-on, but more than that. The leather was embedded with runes, tubes and metal pieces. At the top was a small circular slot that protruded out similar to the one on her zapper gun. On the side was a pouch of glowing crystals, her hex gems that she stole.

“Man, I haven’t seen those since…”

The air seemed to suck out of the room, your mouth shutting immediately. Your eyes instinctively going towards the child drawings on Jinx’s mirror. Jinx twitched slightly eyes wide before her hand combed through her buzzed hair to get herself together. She kissed your hand holding it close.

“I was going over those notes from the Golden Boy. Lots of useful stuff in there. Some of these runes are really powerful. And ya know, a little combining and they make a whole bunch of new stuff! Pretty neat huh?”

She bounced back so quickly, but honestly it was for the best right now.

“Yeah.”

You smile, your hand touching the etched leather.

“So… it’s clearly a strap-on. But um… What does it do?”

And then… that wicked smile that meant you were in for a ride. Jinx grabbed one of the stones, holding it between her fingers a moment.

“Head to the bed, kay? Lemme suit up!”

Jinx laughed out picking up the leather strap-on. She whisked off to somewhere concealed from your view. While she was gone you made your way to the bed, sitting down on the messy surface and waiting for your blazing bluenette. Of course, Jinx always took too long just to tease you and after five minutes of you waiting and squirming in your own pool of excitement she came out wearing the strap-on, the shaft glowing blue with a holographic texture, pasties over her tits shaped like hearts, and high lacey stockings that she customized with her stripe pattern. Jinx held her hands behind her back as she made her way over, the strap almost looked flaccid but when Jinx got near you and your breath panted in front of the toy you swore you could see it twitching.

“Ya like? It’s special… I can feel it all~” Jinx poked the tip of the toy causing her to squirm a little at the sensation. “Whaddaya think?”

You pause, looking at the slightly erect toy in front of you. It’s almost an instinct but you lean in and kiss the side of it. Jinx whined, the toy lifting up more as Jinx grew more aroused. Your eyes raised in wonder seeing her get harder and harder until the toy pointed up in a slight curve twitching and throbbing demanding attention.

———

You barely prepped, Jinx was behind you with her hands kneading your ass as the tip of the holographic dildo kissed your soaked entrance. “Shit toots-- I can feel you —you’re so good…”

Slowly it eased in, Jinx gasped at the electric currents firing her nerves and causing an insane rush of pleasure. It didn’t take much effort for her to glide the toy deep into your core. It was so new, so tight and warm.

“That feel good?”

“Mhm…” Was all you got out before Jinx began to thrust her hips forward and back, rocking into you as her hand remained on your waist. Sure, you’ve used dildos before but seeing Jinx’s fucked out face as she got to feel how warm you were made the whole thing feel so much better.

Lewd and pornographic, their positions changed like a dance routine each second as Jinx wanted to feel you at every angle. Biting her lip as she stared down at your face as your eyes rolled back. “Oh look at you, look at this cunt! You take it so well.. fuuuck! Gonna make me nut in you, bet you’d loveee that.” Your head nodded, tears welling in your eyes as she put her all into you.

In, out, in, out. The slapping noises filling the room as Jinx got closer and closer. “Fuuuck… Fuck! Trinket, I-I’m gonna cum inside you..” It thrilled you those words, her cumming inside you. You didn’t know how that felt, you’ve only been with Jinx and you didn’t care to change that. But the thought did excite you so much that when you began to feel her throb harder inside you, you pushed over the edge first.

“Ah! Jinx! Mm— oooh..!” Your pussy tightened, heating up like the inside of an engine pipe as your orgasm washed across your body. Just feeling that… hearing that. You felt it, some sort of fluid shooting inside you. It didn’t matter what it was or where it came from, those questions you can figure out later. But she was cumming inside you. Her nails dug moons into your skin as Jinx moaned and bent over so her chest was pressed to your body before she pulled out to let her fluid paint your back and ass just because she could.

“Holy… fuck… toots.”

She panted out, bottom lip heavy and eyes tired. From your aching cunt white and slightly blue shimmering fluid dripped onto your clit and down to the bed. Your legs shook and eventually you collapsed down onto the bed. The toy was now soft and Jinx pressed a button and the holograph faded. Soft lips meeting your cheek before you felt a tongue slide across your back and ass as she licked up her ropes.

“Mm, gross.” You joked with your head in your arms. Jinx sat up before lying down next to you to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes. “You love me though~” She teased as her fingers pinched your red and sensitive cheek.

“I do,”

“Good, cause I love you too.”

—————————————————————————

💙🪿

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Wrecked (Part 1)

Summary: Dean's in the mood to push you to your limits tonight...

Pairing: Dom!Dean x sub!reader

Word Count: 1,000ish

Warnings: language, smut (dom/sub, sex toys, bondage)

A/N: This is part 1 of a 2 part fic I wrote with my friend Elaina (aka @campingmonkey )! To see part 2 written by her (linked below), be sure to hop over to her blog! Pst, she also makes gifs too!

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You arched your back, sighing quietly through your first orgasm, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Dean slid his body back up to yours, stealing your lips away for his own pleasure, smiling against them. You went to reach for his hair, keep him close, but felt the gentle tug of the padded restraint on your wrist.

“Good girl,” Dean murmured against your ear, one hand sliding between your bodies, finding your breast and brushing over your pointed nipple. You groaned as he teased it. A pinch here. Roll of the fingers there. You strained again, huffing when he tsked you. “Greedy tonight, are we?”

“Dean,” you growled, pouting when he stopped playing with you completely. His face hovered over yours, a dark smirk on his face.

“Good girls get orgasms and you’re not being very good right now. Maybe I ought to remind you how to behave.” 

“No! I can be good,” you said, Dean already winking and disappearing from view. You swallowed when he rolled off the bed, rummaging around. You lifted your head, frowning when he returned to the end of the bed holding a small black tube. 

“I love this little thing,” he said, flipping the switch on. You swallowed thickly, Dean grinning as you squeezed your legs together. “No, no. You wanted me to give you my full attention and you’ve got it.”

He swatted your thigh, the two of you staring at one another, silently fighting for control. “Open now or I edge you for an hour and you don’t get to come again tonight.”

You closed your eyes and relented. You spread yourself wide for him, Dean humming his satisfaction at your compliance. Your breath hitched as the bed dipped, the low vibrations of the mini vibe against your clit pleasant but nowhere near enough to get you off.

“Give me one, sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing up your body, mouthing at you nipple. “Just one and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days.”

You arched your hips up into his hand, Dean teasing you by pulling the vibe away. You yanked on the restraints again, Dean toying with your breast with his free hand, his mouth nipping at the other. With an ungodly amount of willpower, you forced your legs to go still and body to ease back into the bed. Dean rewarded you with the vibe, a thin layer of sweat breaking out over your warm skin. 

You whole body was tingly, wanting desperately that second orgasm that would blow the first one out of the water. Dean Winchester was a man that knew how to deliver on the first go around but there was nothing he loved more than pushing you to the edge of your limits and then some. Which was clearly his goal tonight. You could feel that familiar pressure in your core growing but Dean wanted that elusive nipple orgasm that you’d only managed a few times before.

He sucked hard on your breast, his pinching becoming borderline painful but god, it felt so damn good. Sparks of pleasure ran from your nipples straight to your clit, Dean humming as you started to grind against the vibrator. Hips rolled in time with his assault on your breasts, Dean sure to leave bruises behind. Fuck, you were right there, Dean greedily crushing the poor bud under his strong fingers.

And then the vibrations stopped and you thrust up into open air, clit throbbing as your deep, low orgasm rumbled through you, turning sharp and pointed when Dean didn’t let up teasing your breasts. You cried out, legs scrambling for something to squeeze, Dean pushing you through it until you were sucking in deep breaths.

“And you say you hate that toy,” he chuckled, swiping his tongue over your nipple, an ungodly spark of pleasure coursing through you. “So…sensitive.”

He brought the vibe up, leaning down to kiss you roughly as he let the tip of it drag over your swollen peak. You squealed straight into him, Dean’s tongue mapping out your mouth for the millionth time. You pressed your chest up, Dean kissing you harder as your head spun, a brutal wave of pleasure building up in your body.

“You’re right,” he said, suddenly pulling everything away, your head spinning as the cusp of another high was stolen. “Such a silly little toy. I ought to go throw this away.”

Some garbled half moan, half screech left your lips, Dean grinning and climbing on top of you. The tip of his cock hit your clit and you nearly forgot how to breathe.

“One more for me, sweetheart.” You were so wet there was no need for lube. Dean slammed himself inside of you in one go, resting one hand by your head. You squeezed your eyes shut, Dean’s lips finding yours. “Go as many times you need to, sweetheart, cause I ain’t stopping until I give you all I got.”

Dean’s hips snapped forward, your walls trying desperately to clamp down onto him as he fucked your pliant body hard and fast. You shouted against his closed lips when the vibe touched your clit, an orgasm rocking through you, head pounding. Dean didn’t falter one bit, even with the added friction of your death grip on his cock. Over and over, your toes curling, legs wrapped around his back so hard you knew you’d leave marks on him.

Your orgasm barely faded before you rolled into the next one, Dean kissing under your jaw as you openly shouted. Too much pleasure rocked your body, too much heat, too much of Dean’s scent, his kisses, his body all around yours.

You threw your head back hard when you came around him, Dean biting your collarbone, his cock throbbing as he came deep within you.

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A/N: Be sure to check out Part 2 here!

[sirfrogsworth]

Let's talk about macro extension tubes.

I just saw this video recommended to me.

This has so many views and it is so bad.

This is not how macro extension tubes work.

At all.

You can't just keep adding more of them to get more macro. All you are doing is reducing the amount of light reaching the sensor and making it harder to take your photo.

All lenses have a minimum focusing distance (A) and a minimum working distance (B).

The minimum focus distance is measured from the sensor. This is the absolute closest distance where you can attain sharp focus on a subject. This is usually the spec the camera manufacturer gives you, but it isn't very useful because it doesn't take the length of the lens into consideration.

Minimum working distance is how close the end of your lens is to your subject. You figure this out by adding the flange distance (google it for your camera), and then add the length of your lens, and then subtract that from the minimum focus distance.

Whatever is leftover is how close you can get to stuff.

In this example, this is as close as the lens can get to the flower before it can no longer achieve sharp focus. If you get any closer, it will be blurry.

If you have a short working distance, this can be problematic for macro work. Your lens could create a shadow on your subject. You might be so close that you disturb the insects you are trying to shoot. You risk scratching your lens if you are shooting near rocks or other scratchy objects. So finding a macro lens with a decent working distance is always optimal. You can back off from your subject and get a lot of light in there and not have to worry so much about disturbing critters.

But if you don't have a macro lens, you can increase the magnification of any lens by adding extension tubes. It is a low cost way to get into macro photography, but it isn't a perfect solution.

Before I can tell you what macro extension tubes do, let's quickly talk about what macro actually is.

Macro magnification is usually measured starting at 1:1 reproduction or 1x. (Some manufacturers start at 0.5x or 1:2 reproduction, but most photographers don't actually consider that macro. So watch out for that in lens specs.) 1x magnification means the thing you are shooting will appear on the sensor the same size as in real life.

So if a lens has a 0.25x magnification, an object will only take up 25% of the image sensor. (The rectangle on the right side.)

But at 1x magnification, it will be reproduced exactly as it is in real life on the sensor.

If you have a 2x lens or 2:1, it would appear twice as big as the image sensor.

So what does an extension tube do?

Extension tubes are just spacers that shorten your minimum focus distance. They take the red arrows and change them to the yellow.

They push your lens farther from the sensor and allow you to get closer to your subject.

This causes an increase in magnification.

Think about how a magnifying glass works. You pull it closer to you so that everything gets bigger in the lens. That's essentially all the tubes are doing.

The first downside to extension tubes is they reduce the amount of light by quite a bit. The inverse square law says the farther light travels, the lower the intensity. So the more tubes you add, the more light you have to add to the scene. Or you have to do a really long exposure on a tripod.

But the decrease in working distance is a problem as well. You may find you have to put the front of the lens a few millimeters away from your subject to get a meaningful increase in magnification. And because you can't phase into objects, there is a limit to how many extension tubes you can use to affect magnification.

At some point, you are actually placing the working distance *behind* the front of the lens. After this point you can no longer increase the magnification. You're just making your lens focus farther away.

You could keep adding more and more extension tubes, but it would not allow you to get any closer to your subject.

If you put 20 of them on, you are just doing this...

At some point, you'll have to violate the laws of physics.

The lens used in the video is already a macro lens capable of 1:1 reproduction.

This lens has a minimum focus distance of 160mm. But it has a minimum working distance of only 43mm (1.7").

Extension tubes are measured in millimeters. The ones in the video come in 16mm and 10mm sizes. He alternated them.

So in order to reduce the working distance to the point a subject would nearly be touching the front of the lens, he could put on a maximum of 3 tubes.

The red lines below show how much each tube would reduce the working distance.

A 10mm, a 16mm, and a 10mm would reduce the working distance by 36mm—leaving him about 7mm of space in front of his lens to achieve focus.

He could add another 10mm tube if he didn't mind his subject basically touching the lens, but it is very difficult to get that close in a real world scenario and achieve a decent result.

If he put on 20 tubes, that would reduce the working distance by 260mm. And since there is only 43mm in front of the lens to work with, he is overshooting the minimum possible working distance by 217mm or about 8.5 inches.

He's basically doing this...

He overshot by about 17 tubes—worth about $400. Though he probably made that money back in views. So I guess it was worth it.

But it is really bad information and may cause people to buy a ton of tubes expecting to get super macro results.

The only real way to significantly increase magnification is to buy a lens specifically designed for it. They make macro lenses up to 5x and after that you are looking at microscope objectives.

With extension tubes you might be able to get a non-macro lens to achieve close to 1x or better, but there is no low cost way to get much beyond that.

To review...

Figure out your minimum working distance. If google fails to give you the answer, you can just get a tape measure and figure it out on your own.

Let's say that the working distance is 50mm.

That means you can add up to 50mm of extension tubes to get a bump in magnification. (Though that would be touching the lens, so I'd probably do 30 or 40mm of tubes maximum.)

Adding more tubes beyond 50mm will not increase your magnification.

It will just make your camera look like it is compensating for something.