#i couldn't draw anything from my shows for a while only this guy

[21go-gay-today37]

My beautiful wife died for stupid reasons

bring him back >:v[

[fairydvsts-blog]

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

obx masterlist

summary; your best friend, Rafe, finds out that you're dating someone else and he's not happy about it

warnings; some angst, jealous!Rafe, SMUT, praising and degrading, spanking, oral sex (fem receiving), hickeys, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up you all!)

a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find some mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Enjoy!

While you were sitting on your bed doing your homework, Rafe suddenly entered your room, looking at you with anger in his ocean blue eyes.

"When were you going to tell me?" he questioned, not even bothering to say hello.

He had showed up unannounced, clearly annoyed at you; but the thing was you had no idea why he was so mad, since you hadn't done anything that could have upset him.

Or so you thought.

"Tell you what, exactly?" you asked.

Your confusion only grew as seconds passed, luckily, Rafe broke the silence and said, "That you're dating someone."

His statement surprised you, you didn't expect him to figure it out that soon; only a week had gone by since you had started seeing the guy. But guess what, Rafe Cameron seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.

"I don't know, Rafe," you answered him, then added, "I mean, I've barely know him for a few days." You saw his stoic features harden as you talked.

"So what?" he replicated. "You didn't think I would want to know?"

You rolled your eyes at his hypocrisy; he dated a new girl every week and he for sure didn't talk to you about any of them —not that you wanted to know anyways. Why should you tell him then?

"Know what? That I'm fucking someone? I don't recall you telling me such things" you declared as you frowned, starting to get mad at him.

You stood up, taking some steps in his direction, while his eyes widened at your words. He clearly wasn't expecting to hear that.

"You've fucked him?" the blonde snapped; his jaw was visiblely tense.

"Yes, it is wrong now?" you asked him with raised eyebrows at the same time that you crossed your arms.

Your breasts poked out from the neckline of your tank top, drawing Rafe's attention for an instant. Though he looked away quickly, his intense stare made you blush a little and you let go of you arms unconsciously.

"Yeah, it is," he stated, then he added, "you said it yourself, you don't even know him that well."

He was being so unfair to you that your blood started boiling. When he fucked girls at parties, he didn't care about not knowing them; he didn't even ask for their names.

"So what?" you mocked him. "Do you know every girl you've put your dick into?"

He gasped, not knowing how to argue with that; he knew that you had a point, but he wouldn't recognise it.

"It's different," he ended up saying.

"The hell is not," you refuted.

After a few seconds of silence, in which you gave each other a deathly stare, you sighed and decided to speak again, "Sometimes I don't get you, Rafe, I just don't."

Rafe's attitude pissed you off so much; one minute he was all over you, like you were the most precious treasure he had, and the other he was fucking other girl that wasn't you. And it enraged you because you liked him, a lot, even if you didn't want to admit it out loud.

"Bet he doesn't even fuck you properly." His sudden statement made you gasp because he was, in fact, correct.

You couldn't deny the guy sucked at sex, but he was popular and good-looking and just happened to be at that party where Rafe stood you up for some blonde chick; and given that you wanted him to feel as jealous as you felt when he fucked other girls, you couldn't prove him right.

So you held your head high and, then, you lied, "I think he does it quite well actually."

You had to look up at him after he took a step closer, fixating his fiery eyes in yours. Suddenly, you were so close together that you could feel his warm breathing in your skin.

"Bet I could fuck you so much better."

He left you open-mouthed and your heart started hammering in your chest as he spoke. When he finished talking, he licked his lips with a smirk and your eyes betrayed you, looking closely at his mouth.

On a normal basis, you would have been intimidated by him, but that day you were feeling bolder than ever, so you rose up on your toes to reach his ear and whispered, "Then fuckin' prove it."

He shortened the distance between the both of you, grabbing your chin between his fingers and connecting your lips with his; the action took you by surprise and your eyes widened for a moment. In just seconds, the kiss became so hungry and desperate that your breath hitched and your legs started feeling like jelly.

Your hands caressed his cheeks, feeling the stubble on his jaw, while you closed your eyes. As the kiss deepened, you felt his bigs hands grabbing your butt and then Rafe lift you up so that he could place you in top of your bed. You felt your notes getting crushed, so, without breaking the kiss, you fumbled on the mattress for the sheets to toss them to the ground.

After that, you took off his cap, throwing it aside, to tangle your fingers in his messy hair. You pulled his blonde locks to push him away in order to start undressing; your eyes didn't leave his as you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and removed it. His eyes dropped from your eyes to your exposed breasts and his breathing became heavier.

He stood still for a few seconds, just staring at your body, before saying, "You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

He leaned over you to take one of your nipples between his lips, sucking at it like a man starved. You moaned at his action as your hands sneaked under his polo shirt to touch his soft skin; when he let go of your nipple with a loud pop, you decided to take it off.

As you put his shirt aside, he started to kiss and lick your neck, marking it. You were sure he'd leave love bites all over it and the thought of everyone seeing his marks on your body only made you wetter.

You had waited so long for that moment that it felt unreal.

"I want that fuckin' asshole to know who you really belong to, baby," he stated, gently bitting your collarbone.

His hand wandered over your left thigh, caressing your naked skin, until it reached your shorts. He looked at your face, asking for permission to undress you completely; you nodded to make him know that it was okay. Rafe smirked and, then, took off your shorts and underwear.

He didn't waste any time after that; he just buried his face between your legs. His action took you by surprise and you gasped for air while you grabbed at your bedsheets, moaning loudly when he sucked hungrily at your clit. Your back arched because of the pleasure his talented tongue was giving you, licking every sensitive part of your pussy from your entrance to your bundle of nerves.

Seconds later, you felt how Rafe placed his tongue right onto your clit again, licking it up and down at a tortuous pace. Your legs started shaking and you grabbed his hair to bring his head closer to you; he was almost suffocating in your pussy, but he couldn't think of a better way of dying. You felt a little bit ashamed when you started cumming after just a few minutes of stimulation, however, Rafe encouraged you to do so.

"That's it, baby, cum in my face like the little slut you are," he said, rubbing your clit with his thumb to help you ride your orgasm.

"Oh my god! Rafe!" you moaned, desperately grinding your pussy against his mouth.

The pleasure clouded all of your senses for what seemed minutes and when the feeling went away, you looked down to find his blue eyes staring at you, mesmerised.

"I love you," he admitted, climbing over you to kiss your lips hungrily but you couldn't return the kiss.

"What?" you asked, totally surprised by his confession.

"I love you, baby, do you love me?" he answered, caressing your cheek while he placed himself between your legs.

It took you a few seconds to react, but you finally said, "I love you, Rafe."

He smiled at you, giving you a short kiss before unbuttoning his short dress pants under your attentive gaze. You tried to help him undress but he didn't allow it, grabbing your hips to turn you around and place you over your stomach. After that, Rafe couldn't resist the urge to spank you and his action made you moan.

"Stay still, baby," he ordered while he finished undressing.

"Again," you demanded, ignoring his request.

You heard his laughter.

"So my little slut likes to be spanked... Interesting," he pointed out, positioning behind you and lifting your hips from the mattress.

Then, he slapped you again, harder that time, and you moaned, feeling your pussy getting wetter —if that was possible. You looked back, finding him in all his naked glory and your cheeks turned red at the sight.

He was gorgeous, every part of him.

"Please, Rafe," you begged, shaking your butt in need of some sort of friction.

"Fuck, baby, you have the prettiest cunt," he told you, rubbing the thick head of his cock over your clit and you squirmed in response, "I'm going to fucking destroy you, sweetheart."

He penetranted you in one single thrust, taking your breath away because of the sudden intrusion. He was big and it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but he didn't push your limits, thrusting into you slowly and carefully at first, which made it more pleasant for you.

When he felt that you were ready to take more, he started pounding into you faster; his dick filled you perfectly, it was like he was made to fuck you, and in no time you were a moaning mess under him. With each thrust, his pelvis hit your ass cheeks, pushing you hard against the mattress.

"I wish you could see yourself, baby," he panted, slapping your thigh while he screwed you hard, "You look like a fucking goddess."

The bedroom was too hot; his skin was covered in sweat and it felt sticky against yours. He leaned over you, reaching for your neck to cover it with wet kisses. At the same time, his right hand trailed toward your pussy, pressing and rubbing your clit with two fingers. You held onto his arm, digging your fingernails into his skin unintentionally due to the pleasure.

You bit your lower lip so hard that your drew blood. He noticed it, so he grabbed your jaw with his free hand to bring your mouth closer to his and licked your lip clean.

"I'm so close, Rafe," you announced, whimpering on his lips.

"I know, baby, I can feel your pretty pussy tightening around my cock," he moaned next to your ear, giving you goosebumps.

Hearing Rafe's moans was your new favourite thing in the world.

"My little slut is gonna cum all over my cock?" He asked, caressing your back until he reached your ass, spanking you again.

"Rafe, yes! I'm cumming!" you almost screamed in pleasure, trembling in his strong arms.

Your muscles became so thigh that your orgasm triggered his own.

"Fuck, baby, I'm cumming too," he warned, trying to pull out because he wasn't wearing a condom, but you stopped him from doing so.

You didn't want your orgasm ruined.

"Inside, please," you begged.

Rafe pounded into you one last time before he came with a loud moan, filling you with his cum. He kept thrusting into you for a few seconds to ride his climax and then he collapsed over you on the mattress. It took him a moment to move to the side to cuddle with you; both of you were gasping for breath.

"Who fucks you better then?"

You couldn't help but smile and answered, "You do, Rafe."

[inkskinned]

for the longest time my family used to host one of the biggest haunted houses on my block: elaborate, themed amateur haunts that pearled out along our lawn for one-night-only. spinning circus wheel-of-terrors and walkthrough alien crash-landings and spiders that arched over our driveway, leaking venom onto your feet.

we didn't have a lot of money; and honestly i don't know how we afforded what we did have. there were not going to be pneumatics or projectors or any supply over 20 dollars - and even 20 was a stretch. we were lucky, and we lived in a town that had a "swap shed", where people would drop off any banged-up-but-usable items that they wanted to get rid of. the whole year, my family would pick over someone else's discarded fans and lights and weird decorations, asking each other - what do you think? for halloween?

we would strip the motors out of rusted fans and spraypaint vases and saw broom handles in half and apply a very thick coat of cardboard and duct tape to everything. for our pirate year, i made the mistake of individually drawing woodgrain onto each strip of cardboard that made up the ship. i then gently painted and distressed the "boards" so they'd each have lichen and cracks and unusual patterns. i hid eyes in the knots and shaped skulls. you couldn't see any of it in the dark, even under our "spotlight" (someone's target-branded workshop flashlight).

i have a lot of very strange skills as a result. i know how to make a flying ghost appear both physically and in the mirror. i know how to make a witch's brew that stirs itself. i know how to burn and cut and paint until there is an iron throne you can sit on, or an alien brushing your ankles, or a hearse trundling along. i can't say we ever made it beyond our local newspapers, but we tried so hard that the town would regularly shut down our street.

i can't put any of these skills on a resume, and i haven't been able to put them to use for a while. i live in an apartment, there's no lawn for me to decorate. for years i've wanted to do an alice in wonderland theme, and have been collecting ideas like coins in a fountain. at other houses, i am transfixed by 12 foot skeletons and paper mache spooky lanterns; easily wooed by the knowledge of how much time people put in.

someone asked me once - so what was the point? and why didn't you guys charge anything to show up?

in truth, we probably needed the money. for years there, we were a 1-meal-a-day kind of a family. i was being polite earlier up in this essay: we furnished both our house and our halloweens using things left a recycling center. we live in new england and still didn't turn on the heat until the end of november, no matter how low the temperature.

every year we would collect donations for unicef and other charities. on an average year, we would collect enough to pay for our food for weeks. every year, without fail: we donated every penny.

this endeavor took months to plan and design and execute. we had to organize any volunteers and check safety and hope-for-the-best. it took at least 24 hours to set up, a week to take down. the motors and fans and lights all had to be packed tight. the cardboard would scatter, pangea in the rain and sleet. i remember picking up a plank from that pirate ship, the paint blown clear off, all my hard work completely erased. a new kind of driftwood.

if this was a poem, and not a memory, i could wrap this up prettily. i could say that these skills landed me a cool job in the haunting industry or that it taught me the value of friendship and responsibility. but i actually think it's something better, something very pretty: there wasn't ever a moral to it.

the night was a long one. yes, there were assholes, people who broke stuff. but mostly it was just kids like us in cardboard costumes, dressed as an incredibly niche kind of truck. good parents who were friendly and laughing. teenagers who slunk in at late hours, wide-eyed and secretly delighted; who asked us can i help next year? like, do y'all take volunteers, or whatever? every year more people came, and told their friends, and offered to pay. and every year we said maybe next year and meant absolutely never.

we did it because it was enough to love something, and to make that love visible. we did it because there is very rarely an excuse to have fun. i think maybe especially, for me - we did it because every year, there was one first "customer" somewhere around 3-4PM, while we were still putting on the final touches. the sun would still be up, and we were frazzled and always-running-late, and these kids saw our vision unfinished in the bright light of day.

something about their parents murmuring say thank you and telling my mom this setup is so sweet while this little kid would grin up at us, dazzled by our artistic mediocrity. the fall air and the chill and their coat-over-a-panda-princess-costume. that first phrase of the night awkwardly managed over a pair of overly-large vampire teeth: a beautiful and excited trick or treat!

[norrisleclercf1]

Okay, I was asleep for the og post but, mafia/dad you say?

How about Mafia!Mark (listen I down bad for this man, hate to break it to you but it's bad) who's in the middle of a very important business meeting when his little girl runs in to show him the drawing she made and one of the other men makes a comment, and before Mark can say anything, the little girl turns to him "my daddy does bad things to people like you", making Mark laugh, like hell yeah that's my girl

A/N: I think it's only fair that we're all down bad for Mark Webber

"Now, what did Daddy tell you?" Mark asks, sitting his little girl, Emma down in his chair. "Stay here and color." She giggles leaning back in Mark's office chair. "That's right, because Daddy has an important meeting, and Mommy is on her way here to pick you up." Mark explains, eye level with his little girl.

"Daddy? Can I draw for you and Uncle Nandie?" She asks, her brown eyes batting up at him he can't help but smile. "You can draw me as many pictures as you want. Can add them to my collection." He points to the wall that has nothing but Emma's drawings. "Okay Daddy," Mark smiles and stands, kissing the top of her head as a knock comes from the door.

"I heard my favorite little niece was here?" Emma's eyes grow wide and her face is split in half by her smile as Fernando walks into the office closing the door. "Emma bear," Fernando moves over to her side and picks her up as Mark slides on his suit jacket. "Uncle Nandie, can I spend the night with you?" "Emma, Uncle Nandie and I are busy, maybe this weekend, okay?" She nods her head as Fernando puts her back down and kisses the top of her head as well.

"You ready for this meeting?" Fernando whispers, and Mark shrugs. He honestly didn't want to come into work, not with Emma. He tends to keep her hidden, but when an emergency meeting was called, he couldn't ignore it and brought Emma with him. You left your parents early and were driving back from the country to the city to get Emma.

"Let's get this over with, so I can get back to her okay." Mark grumbles and walks over and smiles at her drawing Mark and her playing. "Very pretty, finish it so I can hang it up." Kissing her cheek, Emma smiles and goes back to drawing.

-----------------------

Emma giggles, as she signs her name to the bottom corner like you taught her to do. Seeing the time, she sighs, Daddy has been gone for a while and she wanted to show him. Pushing the chair back, Emma grabs her paper and runs to the door.

"Listen, I'm just saying that this is important. If you don't do this you'll," "Daddy?" Mark stops talking and relaxes his face seeing his baby girl run up to him. "Hey, baby. Did you finish drawing?" All the men tense as Fernando smiles and Mark picks her up placing her on his lap.

"Who gives a fuck about a damn drawing. It's probably shit anyways, we have real business to get too Webber." Emma turns around to the man who said that and smiles gently. "My daddy does bad things to people like you", Fernando and Mark share a look, as the guy balks and Emma goes back to showing off her drawing. "That's right Emma, Daddy does do bad things to people like him." Mark flicks his fingers and his guards move quick as Mark distracts her from what was happening to the man.

"It's very pretty baby, you'll help me hang it up yes?" Mark asks, and Emma nods cuddling deeper into her father's hold.

[galactic-rhea]

WDYM Anakin is Luke and Leia's dad

I dunno if this post will reach the Star Wars fandom but I hope it does because I'm sure you all will get a good laugh at me.

As of recent I have developed a good hiperfixation for Star Wars, the thing is I knew nothing. NOTHING about Star Wars besides the fact it had aliens and...a war...in space? And funny swords. And main character is Luke or something, I spent over 20 years ignoring anything about Star Wars and somehow missing most references out there.

And recently, literally less than a month ago I saw a gif and said to my partner "oh this guy this guy looks cool, this gif looks nice" and he said "Oh well, he's a good character." And it all developed into me watching Clone Wars, the animated series you know and...and I was kinda blown away, on my opinion the show IS GREAT. And I love every character and their interactions, I love how much they focus on side characters, and they all seem very well written. I got hiperfixated really fast and saw Anakin and I was like "Omg, babygirl. He's a blorbo now."

And because of the show, this was super unexpected, but somehow I also got, really got, into the ship with Padmé because omg, cool woman. Literal happy squeaky noises of someone who was in a bad state and needed some good ol' distraction and comfort.

Now, like I said I knew nothing about Star Wars as a whole. And I still haven't watched the movies, besides the ocassional gif?

So imagine my shock, my surprise, my...bewilderment when I realized.

"Wait a minute, LUKE IS ANAKIN'S SON?! HOLY-"

Ladies, gentleman, and others, I think I came very late to this party and I don't even know how it took me so long.

Not only that, but because of this sudden love for the series, I went to my friends circle like "BESTIE, GUESS WHAT, I HAVE A NEW BLROBO AND A NEW FAV SHIP AND EEEP"

And my friends are like "omg that's amazing, what is it?"

I tell them, and of course they all know these characters and they all react like they know this very bad secret fact and I got told several times already "Please, don't watch the episodes 2 and 3 alone, it will hurt."

I feel like blissfully walking among rainbows and blue skies while everyone else know that my future is doomed. Somehow.

(Uncomfortable silence)

Not only that, but then I spent a whole deal of time thinking "Where the heck I have seen these guys" cus there was some fmailiarity I couldn't just point out and then one day I woke up, brushed my teeth and of all sudden I realized and it was such a shock.

Do you know how SURREAL is to get very into a character, and into a ship, and then realize they're the same from that super widespread meme that has been around for who knows how much time?

I swear I thought that meme was from some old medieval fantasy movies or something.

But alas, Star Wars now is EVERYWHERE. People do references to Star Wars ALL THE TIME and it's just now I'm catching them.

I got spoilers. From a meme. In a youtube review that had nothing to do with Star Wars hah. Everything is a spoiler, the world is an apparent spoiler. Now I'm here, trying to avoid spoilers from something everyone seems to know, even my family knows. It's so surreal and I wouldn't have it any other way 😂

Anyways, if you read until here, know that a wild ride still waits me, cuz I'm only starting Season 3 of Clone Wars and I don't plan to watch the movies until I finish the series.

And yes, I made this blog just to ramble freely about SW and draw stuff because it sparked my inspiration after a long art block.

Have this doodle I drew after watching the two first episodes, my offering for you reaching this far.

Note: Wouldn't Anakin and Padmé's ship name be Animé? Cuz that's hilarious.

[nickfowlerrr]

your forever is all that i need.

pairing: max burnett x curvy!reader

warnings: angst! smut! some fluff! 18+ ONLY. kinda soft!dark max if you squint. warnings not exhaustive but if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: 7.8k

notes: this guy has been sitting in my drafts waiting to be finished for months and i finally got it done. i think i like it 🥲 i hope you will, too! please let me know what you think. 🖤

thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated.

You keep your head down, the baseball cap you’re wearing pulled low to aid your attempt at keeping your face concealed. The duffel bag you keep a tight grip on swings slightly with each step you take down the long, empty hallway of the apartment complex.

You reach the door leading to the stairwell and make your way down the steps until you finally get to ground level.

Pushing the lone metal door open ever so slightly, you peek out and make sure you’re still in the clear. No one's around. You walk through and head straight for the gate that leads you out to the parking garage.

You can feel your heart racing, your adrenaline pumping as you cross the lot. Lines of cars, but not another soul in sight.

You get the urge to look back over your shoulder as you walk but you fight against it and keep on to the car.

You’ve missed his call twice already and you just need to get out of the city before you can muster up the courage to call him back..

You unlock the doors with the click of a button as you approach. Your eyes leave the car for maybe two seconds as you pass a large cement pillar, looking down to fish your phone out of the deep pocket of your coat.

There’s a blur in your peripheral. 

You look back up, your heart seizes in your chest, and you gasp as you halt in your path. 

You suddenly find yourself mere inches from him as he stands before you, his gaze harsh as he stares daggers into you. 

His jaw is set, eyes dark as you do nothing but stare back stupidly. Where did he come from?

"Fuck, Max," you say with a heavy breath, "you scared the hell outta me."

You try and calm yourself, playing it cool. You wait for him to respond, to say something, but he doesn't. The pit in your stomach only grows deeper at his silence.

You lift your phone in your hand, doing a show of waving it at him, "I was just about to call you," you lie effortlessly.

Still, he says nothing. Eyes narrowing as he takes you in, his gaze falling to the bag in your hand.

You swallow your nerves, praying he doesn't notice, as you step to him. His hands are in his pockets as he stands tall, still looking down at your own. Your gaze is set on him, not for a second straying from his face as you stand before him, nearly pressing yourself against him; trying to search his eyes, urging him to meet your own.

When he finally does, a shiver runs down your spine, though you're not sure of its cause. 

Fear, worry, or maybe just the proximity to him that you hadn't had in a while.

Maybe something else...

His eyes are nearly black with how blown out his pupils are and the intensity of his gaze has you even more taken aback than you were a moment ago.

You can't let it show, though.

"Hi," you draw out, brows raised in faux confusion. As if you have no idea why he's acting so off. But of course you do. 

He must know. 

God, of course he knows. 

But he hasn’t said anything. So still, you keep up the charade. 

You drop the duffle lightly and wrap your arms around him as you look up at him. You're so close, so much so that you couldn't possibly get any closer - but that doesn't stop you from trying as you lean up on your tiptoes, chin tilted upward with a delicate pout playing on your lips.

He eyes you, his hands still in his pockets as he does nothing but watch.

You brush your lips against his softly, not expecting him to kiss back - and he doesn't - but he doesn't stop you, either.

You deflate, despite the expectedness of his lack of response, and let your feet meet the ground again as you tilt your head innocently at him, arms still wrapped around him.

"Max," you scoff lightly, a hint of a question in your tone. "Hey, I'm sorry I missed your call, but I really was just about to call you back," you try to defend yourself.

He stares for another unnerving moment before finally he responds,

"Calls," he corrects harshly. "Plural."

Your lips part as if you're going to speak, but you don't. Instead, you pull away from him, your brows furrowing. You let your eyes scan over his face, trying to assess him.

"Why does that sound accusatory?" you ask, letting your taken offense be known.

"What's in the bag?" he asks sharply, ignoring your question.

You stare one another down for a long moment. The thundering of your heart only grows louder in your ears as you do.

You were nervous before, scared more of what you were planning than of what his reaction would be to it. You didn’t want to tell him face to face, not because you thought he’d be truly upset but because you knew you’d back out if given the chance - whether Max cared or not.

But he was here now. 

And he's upset?

If he knows, then is this him trying to… stop you? 

If it is, great. 

You're fucked.

Your plan is completely and totally fucked. 

All of this, or at least the courage you had to attempt it, hinged on the fact that you wouldn’t have to see him, to be this close to him, again.

Your willpower around Max was near nothing and you knew that. 

Maybe you could just take your bag and go. Would he really try all that hard to keep you here? You doubted it.

You both move in the same instant, but he's faster. 

As you were reaching to grab the bag, Max planted a heavy foot on it, keeping it on the ground and out of your hands.

Your eyes dart from his shoe back up to his face. You take a deep breath as you stand straight and keep his gaze.

Well damn. It’s starting to seem like he cares.

But still, you need to get out, you remind yourself. 

You can work this. There's always a way out.

You aren't thinking a plan through, not fully, you just start talking. It’s instinct. Stay in character. Never give yourself away.

He taught you that.

"I was just gonna open it for you," you say, aggrieved.

You stay still as he slowly reaches down to grab the duffle himself, his eyes never leaving you.

You watch him right back, refusing to let your discontent show.

All that’s in there is what little personal belongings and clothes you have. It doesn’t mean or prove anything. Can’t confirm or deny whatever it is he thinks you were planning on doing.

And maybe, well maybe you don’t have to go… You can just pretend this never happened. Prove him wrong and keep up like you had no intention to leave in the first place.

Fuck, it hasn’t been a minute and you’re losing it already.

"Well," you prompt him, "open it."

He considers you and you take note of the way he grips the bag in his hand, his knuckles nearly white, his hand is clenched so hard. 

"Go to the car."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his command and move to walk to your car before his voice stops you.

"No," he grits out, "my car."

You look over in the direction he motions toward and see it, the sleek black Benz you somehow missed is parked across the way, but still on. You glance back to Max and he's already walking to it. You know you don't have a choice, not really, so you follow.

He throws your bag into the back and suddenly turns on you when you get closer, stopping you from rounding the car to get in on the passenger side.

You find your back pressed up against the vehicle as he closes in on you, jolting you a bit as he pushes you back, stealing the air from your lungs. He rips the hat off your head and throws it on the ground carelessly as he nearly snarls his words.

"How stupid do you think I am, huh?"

Your mind goes completely blank as you're stunned.

You've never seen Max this angry before, his apathy - though you hated it - was the norm. Or had been for the last six months or so. You hadn't seen him react to anything with any real care at all, not even you, in about as long. And never had you seen a real reaction from him to such a degree as this.

His anger and proximity were the only things you could focus on. That and the scent of his cologne that was invading your senses. Vaguely you register the longing for him that you’d been suppressing, the familiar scent you’d missed since having been away from him making you a bit dizzy as he crowded you.

"You know I know every trick in the book. I'm the one who taught them to you. So who are you trying to hide from? Who are you trying to run from? Because if I didn't know any better, angel, I'd think it was me." His hand is on your chin as he holds your face, his other planted next to your head as he keeps you against the car. "But I know better, don't I, baby," he smirks coldly.

You blink, lost in the torrent storms of his blue eyes, before forcing yourself to nod.

"Say it," he seethes, smile gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

"You know better," you say obediently in a near whisper as your chest brushes against his with your every breath.

He nods, leaning in closer, resting his forehead against your own for the briefest of moments before placing a chaste kiss on your skin as you shudder at the contact. His lips are by your ear now as he exhales heavily through his nose, "So do you," he tsks before dropping his hands and taking a step back as you stay where you are, eyes wide.

After a second, he motions with his head, signaling for you to move. He lets his tongue wet his lips and sniffs, "Get in."

You do as you're told, no arguing. There's no point.

You fall to him. 

You’ll fall to him every time.

The second you close the car door behind you, Max peels out of the garage.

You look in the side mirror as your hat, the car, and your foolish plan to leave alone all slowly fade away.

You buckle yourself in as he speeds down the street.

You could chide yourself for your stupidity but, you really weren't all that stupid about this. You kind of knew, deep down, he'd know; that he'd see it coming a mile away. You just really didn't think he'd care.

You thought he had stopped caring a while ago. That he’d just let you go.

It was a simple plan. You'd just finished the job, Max had the money. You were supposed to meet up with him back home, the closest thing to one you'd had, and get resettled. For the time being, at least.

But you had other things in mind.

Your stage apartment, the place you'd been living for almost half a year now, didn't hold much - but neither did your duffle bag. Just the necessities. Always.

You cleared out nicely, still had the old car Max got for the job, and had enough cash to get out of the city and to last you for a while while you'd try to get settled somewhere new.

You had enough practice being someone different, becoming someone else for the sake of the job, you were sure starting fresh away from here would be easy compared to what you'd been doing the past three years.

And you were sure Max wouldn't care. He'd certainly given you that impression.

That he was over you. That he couldn’t care less.

You were tired. and sad. and lonely. 

You never thought you could feel that way with him. It tore at you, the hurt threatened to dismantle you completely.

He was so close, but so, so far. 

That’s what hurt the most.

He was right there, but he acted like you weren’t. You thought you’d done something wrong at first. You still remember the first night you kissed him and he just… didn’t kiss back.

You pretended you didn’t notice his lack of reciprocation but you quickly whispered a goodnight before you eventually cried yourself to sleep while he stayed out in the living room on his laptop.

He didn’t even bother to mutter a goodnight back.

With each month it only got worse.

He’d stop by your apartment less and less and would always be out when you tried to stop by his.

You realized maybe you hadn’t done anything, maybe he was just done with you. But he didn’t end things. No, he needed you. For now, at least. Until you finished the job, or maybe until he stumbled onto someone new.

You remember all he told you about his old partners. He was burned once and he’d be damned if he ever let that happen again. 

You’d taken his face in your hands, peering into the depths of his deep blue eyes and swore to him he’d never have to worry about that with you.

And you were keeping your promise, weren’t you? You hadn’t tried to screw him over. You finished the job, made sure he got the score. All you were doing was leaving him to his own devices, the way he clearly preferred it. If anything, you were doing him a favor. Seeing yourself out so he wouldn’t have to end things himself.

Because, really, what were you supposed to do if not leave and put you both out of your misery? You couldn't take it anymore. 

You loved him so much. 

You love him so much. 

You don’t want to leave but you can’t stay. Not like this. You’d rather miss him by being hundreds of miles away than miss him while he keeps you just a room away. And you couldn’t be there when he’d inevitably find that someone new. You couldn’t just wait for the final sword to be pierced through your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to live through it.

The tension is thick as you sit silently, looking listlessly out the tinted window while the city passes by you in a blur.

It’s not until Max gets on the highway that you realize you aren’t going home. You look over to him, staring for a moment as you try to keep your heart from racing. You aren’t scared, just concerned. You don’t like not knowing.

“Where are we going?” you ask after a long few seconds.

He doesn’t respond, his face still stony as his anger radiates off of him. He puts on music without sparing you a glance and you take it as your cue to be quiet. He’s too angry to talk right now, and though he’s pissed at you, he doesn’t want to snap on you. 

It’s almost midnight, the lanes all across the road almost completely empty as he keeps on driving. You give up guessing where you’re headed to after he passes the last exit you recognize without getting off and resign yourself to the unknown.

You look out at the dark sky, the stars glowing brighter the further away from the city you get. 

You find some solace in that. 

As you rest your head against the window, your eyelids begin to feel heavy as your breathing slows.

You try to fight off the sleepiness as it threatens to take you down, but it's to no avail. Within a minute, you're sleeping as Max continues down the highway.

—

You startle awake at the honking of a semi truck, jolting up from where you lay on the reclined passenger seat. When did you do that? You blink your bleary eyes open as the sun shines brightly outside. You recognize you’re still in the car as you unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up, fixing the seat when you do.

You swallow thickly and unpleasantly as you cringe. You feel gross and a little disoriented from the heat of the sun combined with the weight of your long sleep.

You look around and realize you’re at a gas station. Checking the time, you find it’s already past seven. You’re surprised that you’ve slept so long, and that Max had driven for the same time. It dawns on you then that you have no idea where you are, and after seven hours of driving, you’re even more confused than you were last night.

Max isn’t at the pump, so you figure he must be inside.

You get out of the car, rubbing your eyes before you make your way across the lot and into the store. 

You see him right away as he stands at the coolers grabbing water. On your way to him, you stop at the small toiletry section and grab a cheap disposable toothbrush. 

You approach him carefully as he turns and spots you, waiting for you to get to him.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly, not knowing what else to go with. “I just need the bathroom, I’ll meet you back at the car.”

You don’t wait for a response, not sure he’d even planned on giving you one, as you head toward the big sign labeling the restrooms.

You quickly find a stall and relieve yourself. As you wash your hands at the sink, you can’t help but cringe at your reflection. Your makeup from yesterday is smudged and you look a little crazy, admittedly. You are feeling more well rested, though, so there’s at least one thing to be thankful for. You never slept well alone, and despite the physical discomfort of sleeping nearly eight hours in a car, this was the first time in months you’d gotten more than four hours of sleep without disturbance. 

You open the package and take out the ninety nine cent toothbrush with the toothpaste already included. You run the bristles under the water for a second before you quickly brush your teeth. You really just want the feeling of sleep out of your mouth. You scrub at your tongue before spitting out the remnants of the sudsy paste and swirling with a bit of water.

The toothbrush does its job but doesn’t leave you with the minty feeling you were hoping for. As you toss the brush and the ripped packaging in the trash on your way out of the bathroom, you debate snagging a travel size mouthwash on your way out. 

You stop in your path as you walk by a display of sunglasses. You don’t know what it is about the stand that somehow takes you back but you find yourself wondering when the last time you were in a gas station was. It’s silly, but you think it’s been a long while. 

You look around and don’t see Max, but when you glance out the large glass window, you find him putting gas at the pump. His brilliant blue eyes hidden behind his dark, name brand glasses.

You turn and start looking at the cheap sunglasses, grabbing a pair of pink bedazzled ones and trying them on. You laugh at yourself in the small mirror before grabbing another pair to try on. 

You go through five or six different styles before you settle on a simple, sleek black pair.

You aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be in the car, but you know you don’t want the sun shining in your eyes.

Before walking up to the counter, you wander around the aisles a bit, glancing outside every so often to ensure Max is still there.

You smile at the soda fountain and though you’re tempted to get the largest size they have, you know you’ll be lucky if Max lets you bring even the small one into his car without a complaint.

You fill the 12 oz cup with crushed ice and some raspberry iced tea, taking a sip before filling it back up and snapping on the plastic lid.

You don’t know why you’re feeling so free.. giddy, almost. It’s a stark difference from last night, and so far from anything you’ve felt these last few months, too. 

It’s nice, not feeling so sad. And the more you wake up, the lighter you feel. 

You mindlessly drink your tea as it cools you with each sip you take.

You glance out the window and see Max putting the cap back on the gas tank, so you quickly make your way to checkout.

You set down your drink and the glasses and fish in your pocket for the crumpled twenty you know you had.

As you pull it out and try to straighten it, the young blonde cashier speaks.

“Glasses are buy one get one right now,” she tells you as she rings you up, popping her gum.

“Oh, nice. Thanks,” you say as you flit back over to the stand. You knew which pair you were gonna grab the moment she let you know about the deal.

You smile as you grab them and hand them to her to scan when you get closer. 

“It’s gonna be $11.14. You want a bag?”

“Uh, yes, please. And can I get two of those scratchers, too?” you ask pointing to the glimmering black and silver dollar scratch offs. She hums in affirmation as she pulls two for you and adds them to your total.

You hand her the twenty and grab the bag and your drink before pocketing the change when she gives it to you.

“Have a good one,” she bids you.

“Thanks,” you smile, “you, too.”

You walk to the car and pull your jacket off before you climb in as Max starts the engine.

He eyes your drink and bag but doesn’t say anything as you throw your jacket into the back and then buckle your seatbelt. 

“I got you water,” he finally says after a moment.

You look at him in return, “thanks,” you say softly. There’s still some tension lingering between you, but it doesn’t feel as harsh as it had last night. This right here is the problem. When you’re together, everything is better. Even when it isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?” you ask, watching him closely.

He starts driving, heading out of the lot and back onto the highway.

The sun blinds you as you shield your eyes and quickly fish out the bejeweled pair of pink sunglasses you’d gotten free.

Max looks over to you briefly before returning his gaze to the road and your heart soars as he smiles to himself at your glasses.

“We’re less than an hour away,” he answers you without really answering you. 

“You drove all night?”

“Yeah. You know I don’t mind a long drive. I have patience,” he says the last word more harshly as he adjusts his grip on the wheel.

There it is, you think to yourself. 

Of course he wasn’t letting it go so quickly. He’d bring it up when he was ready to talk about it, and as he shifted his complete focus back to the road, you knew that time wasn’t now.

You watched as his jaw ticked slightly and you sighed to yourself.

Grabbing your cup, you took small sips from the straw, enjoying the way the drink went down. Cool, sweet, and smooth. 

It relaxed you, easing the twisting of your stomach.

You settled in your seat and pulled out your phone. 

You weren’t surprised by the lack of notifications; there wasn’t really anyone you kept in constant contact with, aside from Max.

As you looked up out the window, you were struck by the beauty that surrounded you. Gorgeous trees lined either side of the highway, and it was hitting you now how far away from the city you really were.

Max gets off at the next exit and you’re even more surprised by the naturescape you find yourself driving through. You’re on a two way road now and there’s no other cars in sight. As the road winds up and up, the sun is blocked out by the trees. Only glimmers of sunlight streaming through them every now and again as you continue on. You push up your glasses and look over to Max as he keeps driving, looking more relaxed once again.

It isn’t until you come upon what seems to be the start of a very long driveway that Max looks over at you.

You don’t return his gaze as you're wonderstruck at the massive house he’s driving up to. The long winding drive leads to a garage that is empty when it opens for Max’s car. The front yard is expansive and though it still blends into the wooded area, it’s well maintained. 

You don’t even realize your mouth is hanging open until Max’s fingers gently take hold of your chin.

“You think this is nice, wait til we get inside,” he says before rescinding his touch, shutting off the car and getting out. He walks around and opens your door for you as you unbuckle. 

You get out and pull your things from the back seat while he goes to the trunk.

You follow him and you're stunned when you see it’s packed full of his things. You stare stupidly as you watch him grab his own duffle and a suitcase before leading you out of the garage and up the path to the front door.

He unlocks the door with a key and pushes inside before stepping aside and letting you in.

You stand there in shock as you take it all in. 

It looks like it came right out of a magazine. Everything looks so perfect. Cozy and comfy, and deceptively expensive, you’re sure.

You turn to him, a question in your eyes. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks. You continue staring, eyes slightly widening as your brows raise; you’re unsure of what to say. 

It is what you wanted, what you’d talked about late at night when you’d stay up telling each other everything. Secrets you’ve never uttered to another soul, all about your deepest, darkest desires, your dreams, what you truly wanted out of this life.

You remember the exact night you’d told him this specifically. 

“A nice house,” you’d whispered into the dark as you laid against him in his bed, your head on his chest as he held you under the covers, listening intently as you spoke. “A big yard. Somewhere, away from the city. Near the mountains, maybe? Doesn’t have to be fancy. But I hope it’d be cozy. Pretty,” you smiled. “But I wouldn’t be picky. Just a nice place of my own. Somewhere I could finally call home.”

You had spoken the last sentence so quietly, so full of distant hope and longing, and mostly to yourself, you hadn’t been sure he’d even heard you. 

He had stayed quiet after that, the only way you knew he was still awake was his hand smoothing up and down your skin, almost tickling you as he lulled you to sleep with his gentle touch.

That had been the night before you were set to meet your mark. The last night Max had held you so lovingly. After that was when things started to change. He was always on the phone, or on his computer, always meeting up with someone. Growing more and more distant. Too busy for you, his apathy only becoming more evident with each passing day.

It had been a long six months.

“Isn’t it?” he asked again, his voice pulling you back to the present.

You nod, blinking to hold back the unexpected wave of tears you could feel wanting to form.

“But,”

“But nothing. It’s what you wanted. It’s what you deserve.”

You shake your head as a lump in your throat forms. “I wanted it to be real,” you murmur, voice tight. You don’t know what it is you’re doing here. What the next job could possibly entail, but this is just… a different sort of cruel. Like all you’ve ever wanted is being dangled in front of your face, but it isn’t yours to keep as you're forced to play out another charade.

His touch is on you then, turning you to face him completely before he takes your face in his hands, stepping closer to you.

“What makes you think this isn’t real?” His voice is hard though you can hear how he tries to soften it for you.

“I can’t just play pretend for the rest of my life, Max. I can’t. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not anymore. I don’t want to. To have to move around, living fake lives, never getting to settle down and make one of my own, I-”

“Angel,” he stops you, realizing what your thinking is as a tear slips down your cheek once the confession you never thought you’d say slips past your lips, “I know.”

His thumb wipes at the tear streak as he presses closer to you, leaning his head down to yours while you look up at him. The cold his eyes held before seems to melt as he looks at you. He continues.

“I’ve known. This isn’t temporary, baby. This is your house. It’s in your name and everything. Anything you don’t like, we’ll change. I bought it for you. For us.”

“Wh-,” you breathe, no words forming as you take in what he said. “For us?” your voice cracks as you repeat his words, more tears burning at your eyes. “I thought…”

“Thought what?”

It takes you a second to speak, “... I thought you were over me.”

Hurt flashes across his face before it’s replaced with some kind of indignation. 

“Over you?” he says harshly, “I’ve spent months putting all of this together for you-”

“I didn’t know that, it felt like you were ignoring me. Avoiding me-”

“You don’t get all of my attention for a little while and you just assume I’m bored with you? You think that little of me?”

“No, Max. I just - I was hurt and I didn’t, what was I supposed to think?”

“How about you think about how much I love you. Have I not made that clear? I’ve given you every piece of me. I let you in, I took care of you - I take care of you and I love you like I’ve never loved anyone,” you can feel how upset he is as he holds you tighter, his voice cutting you with every word.

“Max,” you say as you grab his wrists. He doesn’t respond, only moves you back as he walks you toward the couch. “Max,” you say again, almost pleading.

Your legs are right against the couch as he towers over you, still holding your face in his hands as you hold his wrists. 

“I love you,” he says, hurt seeping through entirely now as he speaks. You’re almost being bent back over the armrest as he continues to try to get even closer to you. You’re looking in his eyes with your bleary ones. 

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing his wrists lightly, your thumbs mindlessly running over his skin, “I know.”

“I’d give you the entire world if you wanted it,” he says. 

“I don’t want the world,” you breathe sharply. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His lips crash into yours without warning as he takes you by surprise. The intensity of the moment completely overwhelms you as you fall back over the armrest onto the couch, Max following you. 

You both move up the long couch as your kisses turn messy and fervent, your hands finding his hair as his move under your clothes.

You’ve missed him more than you’d even realized. You’re desperate for him, every little touch, the lightest of brushes of his fingers over your delicate skin. You’re pulling him as close as possible as he crowds you, the reciprocity from him filling you with everything you’d been longing for.

So caught up in the feeling of him, your mind wasn’t thinking of anything else until Max spoke, his words almost a snarl in your ear.

“Everything we’ve been through together, and you were just gonna leave me? Without talking to me, without a goddamn word?”

His hand circled your throat as he spoke, but he didn’t apply much of any pressure. Even still, the feeling enlivened and distressed you all at once. 

You didn’t have to speak your admittance, you both knew full well what you had been attempting - what point was there in trying to deny it.

“I tried to talk to you,” you whimpered, eyes watering with the tears threatening to flow over, “you never listened. You acted like I wasn't around. I felt like a ghost, like a burden on you. I didn't want to leave,” you stressed, needing him to know that truth, “but I thought you didn't want me around. I thought I’d be doing us both a favor.”

His hand relaxed around your throat and instead moved up to caress your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, staring at you with the softest look you’d ever seen. “I was caught up in all this, I was brushing you off. But, that was all it took?”

“Max,” you breathed, “even just one day without you, feels like an eternity. I didn’t think I could take it anymore.”

His nose brushes against yours as his eyes close, pained, before he presses his lips to yours, softer this time.

You return his kiss as it grows deeper, his hands moving down your body as he takes you in.

“You’re so dramatic,” he breathes against your skin. You huff, a hand in his hair as you keep him close. “Impatient,”he grits out, then another kiss, “needy.” His voice is low and rough.

You can feel yourself getting hotter with each word he speaks, and had it been anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how wet you were getting. But you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Please, Max,” you whimper, puppy eyes on display as you pout.

He pulls away, dark eyes penetrating you.

“You know what,” he breathes heavily, “maybe it's time you learn a little something about patience.”

You gape up at him dumbly, not knowing what to say.

“You think you can manage that, angel? Or you gonna try and run off on me again?”

You frown, blinking away from his harsh gaze. “I can manage,” you whisper.

His grip on your chin forces your gaze up, an unbidden whimper leaving you.

“Look at me when you’re talking to me,” he orders.

You swallow hard with a nod, “I can manage.”

—

It’s tortuous the way he moves his tongue, tracing up and down your slit before plunging in and out of your dripping hole, moving back up to swirl over your sensitive clit.

Your body is slicked with sweat, your clothes long tossed away as Max played with you, bringing you to the very edge of pleasure over and over again just to tear it all away before you could reach your release.

You swear you’re about to combust as he sucks on your clit, his fingers buried deep inside your pussy. Your moan sounds from your throat as you keep your mouth shut, head thrown back in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, your hand fisted in his hair while he devours you.

Your hips buck up despite yourself and for the first time tonight, Max doesn’t pull away from you completely. This time, he grips your hip, burying his face deeper in your cunt as his fingers curl just right inside of you, coaxing you closer. 

You’re a mess of gasps and moans as he moves his fingers faster, fucking you hard and deep as he keeps his tongue focused on playing with your clit.

“Oh- god! Max, I-, Max, Max, Max, I’m gonna-”

You can’t even hear yourself and your senseless babbling as he speeds up his movements while you cry out for him.

Your orgasm shatters you, your body going tense before you shake beneath him. You’re seeing stars, that glorious warmth washing over you, the pleasure of your orgasm crashing over you in never ending waves as you pulse around his fingers. Max doesn’t stop what he’s doing until your hand in his hair is tugging at him to stop.

You’re breathless, body tired and sweaty as you try to calm down for the intense high. When Max sits up, still between your legs, his chin is slick with your arousal and release as he licks his lips. His eyes are glued to your body, roving up to your chest as it rises and falls with your labored breathing before he crawls over you. You’re face to face as his bright blue eyes peer into your soul. You feel like you’re in a trance as you return his gaze. Your hand reaches to caress his cheek before he leans closer to you, kissing you deeply, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. You moan at the feeling, and the taste of yourself still on his tongue.

“You see the pay off you can get when you just have some patience?” he husks. You whimper as he pulls away from you.

He rids himself of his shirt as you sit up and, slowly at first, reach for his belt. He doesn’t stop you and you grow emboldened.

You fumble with the buckle for a moment in your haste before you get it undone, immediately going for the button of his pants.

His hands brush yours as he unzips and pushes his pants down with his briefs, freeing his erect cock. You can’t help but reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length. Your heavy lidded eyes are glued to his body, your free hand exploring him as goosebumps break out over his skin under your gentle touch. 

His shaky intake of breath as you stroke him with one hand and ghost slowly up and down his side with the other fills you with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

You can’t keep your longing at bay as your hand speeds up, gripping him a bit tighter as you jerk him off. 

The moan that tumbles from his lips has your desire growing tenfold, but Max stops you all too soon.

He pushes you to lie back down on the couch, eyes dark and focused solely on you. The intensity steals your already unsteady breath as you release a soft gasp from his push.

It’s quiet in the house, the only sounds to be heard are your labored breaths as you wait, simmering in anticipation.

Max leans over you, planting one hand next to your head as he holds his stiff length in his other, never breaking eye contact as he guides himself to your entrance, prodding you with his cock.

Your breath hitches as he pushes his tip just inside your tight hole. You don’t so much as blink as he leans himself down closer to you while pushing further inside you. You spread your legs as much as possible as your mouth opens in a silent moan. Max holds your waist as he begins rocking in and out of you, slow and deep with each thrust he drives into you.

You tremble beneath him, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head but you don’t want to look away from him for even a second. A part of you terrified he’ll disappear if you do.

You reach for him with one hand, pulling him closer by his hip, your other holding his hand as he holds you.

Your nose tingles as he moves even slower, hitting even deeper with every stroke, his fingers squeezing your plush waist. Everything feels so intense; strong, powerful, entirely overwhelming as your eyes fill with tears once more.

He smooths his hand from under yours, up your waist, over your breast and further until he’s holding your cheek, his thumb wiping away your stray tears. He leans down as he stops his hips, keeping himself fully sheathed in your tight warmth. 

He kisses you, so gently. More tears roll down your cheeks as your eyes close, your hands urging his body closer. Your touch has his kiss growing deeper; not as soft, but just as passionate as he begins to roll his hips into yours again.

You gasp as he stimulates your clit, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours before you let him dominate it, following his lead - like you always do. 

Like you always will.

Each rock of his hips stokes the fire building deep inside you. Your hands are clutching him like your life depends on it.

You can feel your walls flexing around his length, his groan at the sensation still audible through your kissing until he pulls away, nuzzling your nose with his as he refuses to put space between you as you both try to breathe.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he says, voice strained, eyes screwed shut. “I’m not gonna last with the way you’re squeezing me, baby.”

You mewl as he starts to move faster. It’s evident he’s close to coming and you’re beyond grateful because you know you’re right there with him.

The sound of his hips hitting against you grows louder with each thrust, his balls are slapping against you and the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt are as salacious as they are arousing - only pushing you further to the edge.

Your toes are curling as your muscles tighten, and a strangled moan leaves you. His rhythm is completely lost now as he fucks into you relentlessly. You can’t stop yourself from coming, your walls constricting around his cock as the high of your orgasm crash over you. 

You feel the spurts of his come hitting your walls as he lets out a throaty moan, thrusting in and out of you, riding out the high as he fills you completely. Your name intermingled with curses leave his lips as he relishes in the orgasmic bliss. 

When he can’t take it any longer, the sensitivity too much for him, he gently pulls out of you before he collapses down beside you.

You’re breathless as you lay there, reaching a hand to touch his chest, just wanting to feel him.

You turn onto your side to be chest to chest, face to face.

“I’ve missed you,” you say, your voice small and tight. He strokes your face lovingly as he watches your eyes well with unshed tears.

“I’ve missed you, too, baby.”

You try to blink away the new wave of tears but you’re unsuccessful. His touch only coaxes more as you finally feel safe enough to let them all out now that you’re in his arms again. He moves to hold you against him as you shudder, nuzzling closer.

He shushes you as you cry, kissing your head and rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. His warmth alone is a comfort. You don’t know how long you spend like that in his hold but finally your tears begin to subside.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

He places a kiss on your forehead, “I know. It’s okay. And I know you, sweetheart. I know you’d never leave me, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. I know you wouldn’t have.”

You take a moment, worrying your lip before you look up to meet his gaze.

He waits for you to speak, seeing the thoughts and worry in your eyes and knowing you have something to say.

“I love you, Max. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live another lie. I can’t,” your voice breaks on your last words as Max cradles your face.

“Baby, why do you think I brought you out here? Why I bought all of this for you?”

Your brows furrow as you look into his soft gaze, needing him to say it outright before you can really start to believe what you think it is he means. He offers you a soft smirk,

“You can be done, sweetheart. You’re done.”

You breathe in a bit shakily, eyes wide and a pout on your lips.

“But I,” you take an unexpectedly sharp breath, “I don’t want you to leave me, either.”

He chuckles at the small tremble underlying your voice, gently kissing your pout.

“You’re so greedy,” he admonishes, holding your cheek before pulling you closer for another kiss. He sighs as he pulls away. “But if that’s what you need from me, then I’ll be done, too.”

You aren’t even thinking when you take his face in your hands and pull him to you again, pressing your lips to his firmly. You keep hold of him as you part.

“Yeah?” you ask, not sure he means it.

“For you,” he nods, “yeah.”

You share another deep kiss that takes your breath away before you have to pull away for air. You caress his hair, “So… we live here now?” The question sounds silly to you, but it’s genuine.

He nods with a smile and you nod in return.

“Well, as nice as this couch is, I’d love to see the rest of the place.”

“You ready for the tour?”

“Mhm,” you smile as he moves to get up over you. Before he can, though, you stop him. “Max, wait. I-...Thank you,” you say, carding a hand through his dark hair. “I never expected this, at all. But it’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you,” you return with watery eyes. Emotions getting the best of you yet again. But you can’t help it. You’ve missed him so much, missed being this close, hearing his voice, hearing those words.

He holds you again, lips against your ear, “I’m sorry, angel. Sorry I was so distant.” He kisses your temple. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I’ll never make you feel like that again.”

He turns your face to his and kisses you once again.

“I promise.”

There’s so much love in his gaze, and a sincerity in his eyes, one you couldn’t question even if you wanted to. So you readily return his kiss, you take him at his word. You believe him. Because it’s him.

It’ll always be him.

[bellamybellamyblake]

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it. 

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster? 

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe. 

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say. 

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

[starry-bi-sky]

Part SEVEN of "Clone Danny"

Red Robin, Danny recognizes, steps away from him as he sits up. "My name is Phantom," he signs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes. (From Red Robin's perspective, it looks like he has no eyes. There lacks his signature green glow.) "I'm not a gang member, just an out-of-town vigilante."

Red Robin frowns at him, an uncertain grip on the bō in his other hand. "Phantom?" He repeats, no lacking amount of suspicion in his voice. "How can I believe that?"

Right. Yeah, okay, that's fair. Danny shrugs at him, and slumps against the wall. "Google search?" He gestures, he's been out in the daytime before and he's seen the news articles about him.

Red's eyes narrow at him and Danny simply draws his knees up and faceplants into them, half-listening to Red's murmurs into his comm while also trying to get some extra-shut eye.

("Oracle, can you pull up anything on a vigilante named Phantom? The guy here is claiming to be one." Tim says.

"On it."

"Is this Phantom wearing a white mask?" Bruce asks, his voice gruff like an aftershock. "There's a vigilante who shares the same name, but he resides in Illinois."

"Is this guy from that Amity city you visited ages ago?" Says Tim, before shaking his head. "Don't answer that. Yes, he's wearing some freaky mask. I said it reminded me of Hood's helmet for a reason."

"I've got something," Oracle interrupts, "Bats' right. as usual. The Phantom of Amity Park, not much stuff of this guy but he's only been out for over a year. Apparently, his rogues' gallery consists of ghosts."

"Oh great.")

"Look tell the Batman that I'm sorry for trespassing on his turf," He signs irritably when Red Robin eventually starts talking to (re: interrogating) him again. "It's not like I want to be here."

"How did you get in Gotham anyways?" Red Robin questions, batman was on his way to help deal with the situation but Tim doubted he wouldn't get caught up on the way with dealing with petty crime. "Your turf is nearly a thousand miles away from here."

"Two words." Danny deadpans, "Teleport ghost." (Red Robin winces sympathetically.) "I'm keeping this bastard in the thermos for a month for this alone."

(Danny was ignoring the slow-choking anxiety growing in his lungs over how he was gonna get home. He never takes his phone when he goes out, the risk of breaking it was too high. He had no way of contacting anyone to get him home.)

(He swallows the growing lump in his throat, and buries the feeling in the back of his mind.)

"Thermos?"

Danny unclips his Fenton Phantom Thermos off from his belt loop and shows it to Red Robin. "My ghost-catching device," He says with one hand, tilting it carefully for Red to inspect. "I wish I could say I made it, but its a FentonWorks invention."

(He wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to say who it belonged to, but saying it wasn't his probably loosened up any tracks on him, right?)

"Do you work with these Fentons, then?" Red asks, and something dark and shadowy flickers from the corner of Danny's eye. He glances over, and sees nothing, and his hackles raise.

(Either that was Batman, or a ghost, or Danny's mind playing tricks on him. He couldn't feel his ghost sense building in his throat, so he decided it was either the latter of the former.)

Danny snorts, quiet and gruff. "No." He clips his thermos to his belt again, stifling a smile on his face. "The Fentons hate me actually, I prevent them from catching ghosts themselves. Their son gives me their tech."

He had a cover story, so he might as well stick with it, right?

Batman shows up at that moment, appearing atop the little roof where the door is, and giving Danny a heart attack when he speaks in his low, rumbly voice like thunder rolling in, "Why would they hate you for that?"

Danny shoots up to his feet with a startled yell in his throat, clutching his chest as he whirls around and looks up. He nearly runs into Red Robin, and signs a few choice swears at the Bat.

"wow you're scarier in person, asshole."

"you didn't answer my question."

"Of course I didn't, you scared me." and Danny takes a trembling step back when the Batman jumps down and lands on the roof in front of him. He's faced ghosts before, but somehow the living is always scarier.

"But, um, the reason is a bit.. complicated, I guess." He says, fingers beginning to shake as his adrenaline wears off. God is he tired. He wants to go home. "The Fentons are the local ghost hunters and local crazies. I don't know if I can call them mad scientists because they're harmless to the living."

"But they're extremely anti-ghost. I've heard from their son multiple times the very unethical things they would do to ghosts if they got their hands on one."

Danny 'talks' a little more before calling it quits, even telling Batman that he can't tell him more without putting his identity at risk.

Plus, its getting harder and harder to hide his bone-deep exhaustion and his growing fear of being stranded in the most dangerous city in America with no way home.

"I would love to tell you more, believe me I'm dying to." Danny signs, shaky sarcasm dripping from his fingers. His hands are visibly trembling and he's withholding a slowly growing panic attack. "But I would like nothing more than to figure out a way to get home."

"Do you have no one to contact?"

"Sort of. But only one of them could probably come get me and get me back to Amity by sunrise. And I have no phone."

That one person being Ellie.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank @sara0055 @blusunkhild @letmesayfuxk (?) @latheevening226 @tkiesai @rosedasy @meira-3919

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour. 

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood. 

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head. 

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning. 

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong. 

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-" 

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?" 

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over." 

*

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him. 

Even if she tied it to one condition. 

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat. 

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi. 

*

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends. 

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel." 

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should. 

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. 

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?" 

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday. 

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph." 

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell." 

This gets him a huffed laugh. 

"He'd love this place, it's really cool." 

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard. 

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself." 

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit. 

"Listen, your highness …" 

"Steve is fine." 

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick." 

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly." 

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?" 

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged." 

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh. 

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets." 

Eddie frowns. 

"Dustin as in the kid or …" 

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon." 

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way." 

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow." 

*

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains. 

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?" 

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number." 

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 3: The Titan's Curse

The truth was I was kind of disappointed to hear that she liked her new school so much. It was the first time she'd gone to school in New York. I'd been hoping to see her more often.

I tried to concentrate on little things, like the crepe-paper streamers and the punch bowl - anything but that fact that Annabeth was taller than me, and my hands were sweaty and probably gross, and I kept stepping on her toes.

"The General?" I asked. Then I realised I'd said it in a French accent. "I mean... who's the General?" I want this part to be in the show

"Sweet! Let's go! [to CHB]" said Nico. this breaks my heart. he was so excited in this book

Tyson thought Annabeth was just about the coolest thing since peanut butter (and he seriously loved peanut butter).

"How would you kidnap an immortal goddess? Is that even possible?" "Well, yeah. I mean, it happened to Persephone." "But she was like, the goddess of flowers." Grover looked offended. "Springtime." you tell him grover

"That's some serious danger you're facing." Connor Stoll said. (I liked how he said you and not we.) I'm just imagining the rest of the campers not bothering to go on quests cause it's always the same few demigods and they don't care, they're just chilling safe at CHB while Percy and Annabeth do their things

The creature looked at me sadly. "Moooo!" But I couldn't understand his thoughts. I only speak horse. Percy Jackson speaks two languages: English and Horse

With a shiver, I realised that five hundred or a thousand years from now, Bianca di Angelo would look exactly the same as she did today. She might be having a conversation like this with some other half blood long after I was dead but Bianca would still look twelve years old. ouch

"It wants to kill us!" Thalia said. "Of course." Grover said. "It's wild!" "So how is that a blessing?" Bianca asked.

"That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there." "Which one is me?" I asked. "The little deformed one," Zoe suggested.

When she smiled at me, just for a moment she looked a little like Annabeth. I know everyone talks about this part but I can't help but bring it up again, they are so cute

"Woah, first of all, I never said anything about love. And second, what's up with tragic!" little does he know. also, Percy is so incredibly insightful in this book but he's also so jealous of Annabeth and Luke and so upset about the idea of her joining the hunters yet still can't figure out that he likes her

"Seven hundred feet tall," I said. "Built in the 1930s." "Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said. Grover sighed. "Largest construction project in the United States." Zoe stared at us. "How do you know all that?" "Annabeth," I said. "She liked architecture." I cannot explain how much this little bit means to me.

The girl I'd just tried to slice in half yelped and dropped her Kleenex. "Oh my god." she shouted. "Do you always kill people when they blow their nose?" Rachel's here!!! I love her

Five minutes later, Zoe had me outfitted in a ragged flannel shirt and jeans three sizes too big, bright red sneakers, and a floppy rainbow hat. someone draw this and tag me. what an outfit

Suddenly it occurred to me: this had happened to her before. She had been cornered on Half-Blood Hill. She'd willingly given her life for her friends. But this time, she couldn't save us. How could I let that happen to her? he is the most empathetic, wholesome guy, I love Percy

"Can't this go any faster?" Thalia demanded. Zoe glared at her. "I cannot control traffic." You both sound like my mother." I said. "Shut up!" they said in unison. I kind of wish we got more Thalia and Zoe interactions... they would've made such a great enemies to lovers dynamic, if Zoe didn't die

"Get away from my daughter!" Dr Chase called down, and his machine gun burst to life, peppering the ground with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering. "Dad?" yelled Annabeth in disbelief.

Grover went off with his satyr friends to spread the word about our strange encounter with the magic of Pan. Within an hour, the satyrs were all running around agitated, asking where the nearest espresso bar was.

"No," I said. "I choose the prophecy. It will be about me." "Why are you saying that?" she cried. "You want to be responsible for the whole world?" It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger." I said. might I remind you this boy is 13/14 and has the whole world on his shoulders (both literally at some point and figuratively)

I feel like these are just getting longer and longer but again, I will be back for part 4!

[ageingfangirl2]

A Little Goes A Long Way! Buggy (OPLA)

SMUT! A week has passed since a drunken encounter between you and your captain occurred and he's all you have on your mind, little do you know your captain feels the same way. Buggy x Reader (Female)

Part 2

Y/N

It had been a week since you'd gotten drunk with the crew after a successful raid that came with a lot of treasure. It had been a week since you drunkenly told your captain that you wanted him to fuck you and that you craved him, and the captain followed through fucking you beneath the deck. It had been a week since he left dark hickeys on your inner thighs, chest and neck that had only started to fade recently. It had been a week since your last interaction, and you weren't sure if he regretted that night because his orders came from other crew members.

There was one thing you were sure of and that was that you couldn't get him off your mind. He was like a drug and you were addicted. Maybe you'd been at sea too long and needed a release. You would fool around when you docked in a port with random guys, but the captain made those guys seem like boys and sex wouldn't be the same unless it was with him.

You weren't the only female crew member, but you'd been around the longest. Of course, Buggy had screwed them, and they had stories to tell that only piqued your interest. Alvida was the only one who didn't have an interest in him that way. The other crew were more feminine than you, but you could draw an eye or two, choosing to make men come to you and not the other way around. But here you were debating going to Buggy and begging for round two.

'y/n can you do me a favour?' Alvida asks, popping her head around the kitchen door.

You stop chopping vegetables and face her smiling, the two of you got along really well since she joined, 'Anything for you Alvida.'

She winks at you, 'I was asked to gather intel on our next target from a guy in town. Can you deliver it to the captain please, I'm going back into town.'

she slaps some documents down on a barrel and you roll your eyes, 'Of course, go get laid.'

She blows you a kiss, 'See you tomorrow beautiful, don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

You laugh at her antics as she vanishes. You finish chopping the vegetables before picking up the documents. It looked like you had an excuse to see Buggy, you just weren't sure what was going to happen.

BUGGY

Running a ship was hard work. Yes, we had a success last week but now we need to move on to the next target. Alvida should have something for me, though I wasn't quite sure where the damn woman was. Working also got my mind off y/n of all people. They'd been on the crew for a couple of years, mainly helping in the kitchen and showing impressive knife skills in shows. They put up with my rants, and flirting and took punishments like a champ. I never once pursued them, unlike other female crew members out of respect. So imagine my surprise when a week ago when they were drunk they came up to me and said they wanted to fuck and had been thinking about me for a while.

I'm a man and gave into my carnal desires, taking y/n in the shadows, pounding into them as they begged for more. I left marks all over their body, and they were beautiful in the light of day when they weren't covered. But for a week now I'd been ignoring them, assuming that once sober they had regrets.

'Captain can I come in?' y/n calls out, knocking on the door.

Well, this would be interesting. I take a deep breath, 'come in.'

y/n walks in smiling, they are always a happy person, and this makes it hard to read them, 'Alvida's a little busy and asked me to deliver this intel.'

y/n puts the folder on the desk but doesn't immediately leave. I sit back in my chair and smirk, 'something else on your mind?'

y/n closes their eyes and takes a deep breath before pointing an accusing finger my way, 'I'm all over the place and it's your fault.'

My smirk reaches my ears and I chuckle, 'Mmm, it's not all on me, you know y/n,' I say teasingly, 'I was minding my own business having a couple of drinks when you came onto me. Been thinking about me all week have you?'

y/n opens their eyes and a blush gives them away. I detach a hand and use it to pull them towards me, forcing them onto my lap which they straddle without any further prompting.

I unbutton their shorts and slip my fingers inside, shocked to find them not wearing any underwear, 'dirty girl.'

y/n bites their lip, 'I need to do laundry, this wasn't planned.'

I nod along, mischief in my eyes, 'You didn't lock the door. Do you want someone to walk in on us?'

This wasn't my first rodeo, I knew exactly where to touch, rub, pinch and how much pressure to apply to the clit to get certain responses. y/n was putty in my hands whimpering and trying to keep control, but this was my fight to win.

I lick my lips, 'answer me. Do you want to get caught with your captain? Do you want the crew to think you're another whore for my dick?'

y/n's whimpers were enough to get me hard, but they still kept eye contact which was hot, '...maybe...right now...I want you inside me...'

I don't give any warning before I move away from the clit and thrust two fingers inside their tight warm cunt, 'BUGGY!' they squeal loudly, and squirm on my lap.

'Tell me what you want,' I whisper, voice low, and y/n shudders beneath me.

'...faster...please...' they beg and a moan slips out.

I add a third finger and quicken the pace. Beads of sweat form on y/n's forehead as they come undone around me. y/n bucks their hips and grinds against me, 'FUCK!' I exclaim as y/n starts fucking themselves on my fingers matching my pace.

if anyone walked past my quarters right now all they'd hear were y/n's moans, 'You really are a dirty girl. So desperate and needy, I should have fucked you sooner,' I laugh.

With one more forceful thrust from me y/n cums on my fingers still inside them. They breathe heavily coming down from their high, the blissful look in their eyes turning me on even more, '...fuck...Buggy...'

I remove my slick fingers and bring them to my lips, licking them clean, 'so sweet. I didn't have to do much, you fucked yourself and it was hot.'

y/n's face turns a darker shade of red before they bury it in my chest in embarrassment at their slutty actions. I can't contain my laughter as I hold them against me and kiss the top of their head, 'next time I'm going to watch you finger fuck yourself y/n. You're captain's dirty girl now.

[gretavanfleetposts]

Dance for Me

Author's Note: This was a request from the lovely @jake-kiszkas-smirk so thank you for trusting me with your horny thoughts 🖤 and thank you @earthlysorrows for helping me edit!

Summary: Josh finds your old stripper heels in the back of your closet and requests a dance

Content Warnings: masturbation (m.), oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, stripping, dirty talk, swearing, brief mention of sex work, sexual content (18+ minors do not interact)

Word Count: 5k

"Hey babe?" Josh called from the closet, his voice muffled by the clothes that surrounded him.

"Yeah?" you called back, listening for the sound of his voice again as you sat in bed, book in hand. But instead of hearing anything, you saw his bouncy curls emerge, a quizzical look on his face as he exited the closet with your old pair of black studded stripper heels in hand.

"What are these?" he asked, holding them up for you to see.

"Those are my old heels…" you answered hesitantly, not elaborating on what exactly they were from. Although, it was quite obvious they weren't everyday shoes.

The heels themselves were long and thin. Dangerous looking, really, as they supported a platform about four inches tall. Shiny and black and covered in pointed steel studs that caught the light about the room well, they resembled some of the outfits you had buried in your lingerie drawer that sometimes made an appearance on special occasions. But these had been hidden away like the job you had done while wearing them.

"Where exactly did you wear these?" Josh asked with a cheeky grin suddenly spreading across his lips as the image of you wearing them clearly began to form in his mind.

"Well…I used to be a dancer. A stripper, actually…" you explained slowly, waiting to see his reaction and praying he wouldn't judge you.

It wasn't that you'd been keeping it from him. You just hadn't found a way to tell him yet. Your relationship was still fairly new and it tended to freak guys out when they heard you were a stripper, even as far in the past as it was.

But there was no hint of any judgment on Josh's face. In fact, he seemed only amused by the idea, a smile teasing up at the corner of his plush lips.

"You've been keeping secrets from me," he teased with a toothy grin.

You gave him a relieved smile back.

"I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted.

"I'm only sad I never got to see you perform."

You should have expected the look in his eyes, something well past teasing amusement and inching toward the dangerous territory of interest and intrigue. You could have sworn too that you saw the slightest twitch in his khaki pants that seemed to betray his thoughts. It didn't take much guessing to assume where his mind had gone, and given that he hadn't judged you even in the slightest, a refreshing change from the many insecure guys you'd dated before Josh, your mind was already turning around the same idea he seemed to be having.

Setting your book on your nightstand, you stood from the bed and slowly waltzed over to where he stood still holding your heels just outside of your closet.

"Well…" you started as you took them thoughtfully from his hand, "I could do a little performance for you now, if you wanted."

You stared up at him through your lashes, making a show of it how you would have back when you danced. His eyes flickered down to your lips as he pretended to be thoughtful for a moment, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth to hollow out his cheeks. But he couldn't keep a straight face for long before the rosy tint warmed his cheeks and his lips spread into a smile.

"You read my mind," he said with a hint of a giggle behind his voice that was always so endearing.

You moved a chair into the bedroom, setting it at the foot of the bed where you instructed Josh to shed a few layers of his clothes.

"I thought you'd be the one not wearing any clothes," he joked as his fingers worked his pants and shirt off, leaving him in nothing but his tight-fitting briefs.

"Trust me, it'll feel better if you aren't wearing clothes." You gave him a cheeky smile before heading to the door of your closet. "I'm gonna go change real quick. Be good."

From your phone, you connected to your speaker to play music as you changed into one of the more forgotten pieces of lingerie you owned along with the tall heels, a nightmare to get into but quite a look if you were being honest. When you returned, his eyes went wide the moment you stepped into view. In addition to the heels, you'd donned a black number, all one piece. It was a thong crisscrossing over your pelvis in the front with straps connecting at the navel and plunging upward with thin sheer patches of material acting like cups of a bra and thin straps pulled taught over your shoulders. Truthfully, when you wore it, the material got lost in a sea of plush skin that hugged it well. And Josh looked as though he had never appreciated a view more.

"Holy shit," he breathed in a rare moment of speechlessness.

"Like what you see?" You teased him with a smile as you tried to ignore the fact that your nerves were mounting. You were never nervous dancing at the club but you didn't care about those guys. Josh you did care about. Josh you wanted to impress.

"I've never seen anything more perfect." His eyes never raised from your body. He seemed practically hypnotized by you, even before you'd begun your dance. It brought a blush to your face as you met him where he sat and turned the music up quickly before tossing your phone onto the bed. And in the dim light, you threw your leg over his lap and moved to straddle him, his hands meeting your thighs instantly.

"There's just one rule," you said softly as you took his chin in your hand and forced his attention up toward your face.

He only gave you a fervent nod, looking as if he were willing to do absolutely anything you asked of him.

"No touching," you said in a whisper with a wicked smile adorning your lips.

"No touching?" He sounded upset when he repeated the question to you, grumbling when you nodded in answer but pulling his hands away nonetheless.

"But I'll make it up to you if you're good," you said as you raised off of his lap, his eyes still wide as they stared up at you.

"I can be good for you," he promised in a mere breath as his ability to form intelligent thought began to fail him.

You began your dance the way you usually did, turning in front of him and letting your ass graze along his lap as your hands slowly worked up into your hair. As your hips swayed gently, you felt his erection growing more prominent in his briefs.

You moved to the sultry beat of the song, turning occasionally to find him staring intently, mesmerized really, pupils blown wide with lust the longer he watched. You wouldn't have been surprised if you turned and saw him drooling, honestly, and it strengthened your confidence to see him watch you that way, hardly even blinking but tilting his head occasionally to get a better view when you bent over in front of him.

You made a show of it when you did, reaching to the floor slowly as you shook your ass in front of him until you were lying fully in front of him with your ass still raised in the air, chest pressed into the ground to give him a good view of the thin material of your thong stretching across your skin. The sight alone seemed to draw a light curse from his lips that brought a pleased smile to your face.

You stayed there only a moment before you pushed your torso back upward to bounce on the balls of your feet with your thighs spread, giving him a good view of your ass jiggling. But as you raised your body, you felt the familiar warmth of his fingertips as they reached for you instinctively. He wasn't much of a visual creature, after all, though he did appreciate the view. But he had always learned best with his hands.

You turned to scold him, giving him a 'tsk' with your tongue as you took his wrists in your hands and returned to his lap, pulling his hands down below the seat of the chair and pinning them there amongst the rungs holding the legs together.

"No touching, Joshy, or the fun stops."

"Agonizing," was all he whispered, still mesmerized and sounding like he wanted to whimper and whine and press the matter, even as his hands gave in to your authority.

"I know but you're doing so well for me, so nice and hard and showing me exactly how much you like it," you said in the sultriest voice you could manage as you grinded gently along his lap, only a hint of a giggle in your voice as you praised him.

It earned a low, "Fuck," from his lips as you worked over him, swaying back and forth to the song and letting your hips guide your movements.

Turning again, you faced away from him and leaned forward, letting your ass fully press into his erection and feeling just how painfully hard he was.

"Shit, you are so fucking talented," he hissed at the contact.

"So eloquent," you giggled back.

"Go easy on me; there isn't exactly any blood going to my head at the moment."

"Oh, I can tell," you teased as you turned back around in his lap, just before sliding off and dropping to your knees in front of him.

Kneeling before him, you let your hands run up his bare thighs to play gently with the hem of his briefs before pushing his knees apart to spread his legs. You let your body roll up in the space between his legs, brushing your breasts close to his erection as you went and letting your nose guide his chin upward until you had fully climbed back into his lap. With his head tilted back as you hovered over him, you pressed your body against him.

"Fuck," he breathed in that voice that you could never get enough of, the one he used when he had just gotten off stage, painfully hard in his jumpsuit and dragging you to your knees to relieve him as he brushed the hair out of your face.

But now he didn't get to touch and you could tell it was starting to get to him as he finally dipped his hand between your bodies into his waistband to stroke along his painfully hard length.

"Did you dance this good for everyone?" he asked, his eyes still trained up toward yours as his hand worked over himself.

You ran your thumb sweetly over his cheek, not bothering to reprimand him for touching himself seeing as it wasn't technically breaking your rule, and gave him a soft smile as you leaned in to whisper into his ear. "No, I'm making it feel extra good just for you."

Leaning back, you watched as his muscles strained and tightened and his Adam's apple bobbed in his neck as he fought the urge to put his hands on your body, gulping down his lust in order to focus on the movements of his fist around his cock. He hummed as your hands ran over his biceps and down along the straining tendons in his forearm as it flexed with his motions. He was savoring and enjoying it, clearly, but his jaw still clenched tight as his hand picked up its pace beneath the thin material that still covered him.

"Do you feel good, Joshy?" you asked. Of course, you knew the answer. But you wanted to hear him say it anyway.

"So fucking good," he whispered with his eyes clamping shut as he stroked his cock harder.

Standing from his lap to continue your dance, you watched his eyes flutter open as you played with the straps of your lingerie sitting on your shoulders, making a show of pulling at the elastic to tease him with the extra skin. You wiggled your hips to the music, fiddling with the straps in the same rhythm as he watched intently with his fist still wrapped around himself, giving himself long, languid strokes. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched the tease, his brows furrowing in concentration the longer it went on until you finally pushed the thin stripes of material away from your breast to bare your chest to him. With your chest finally free, you leaned forward, resting your hands on the arms of the chair on either side of him to give him a better show of your skin, earning a groan from deep within his chest as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch.

You dropped to your knees in front of him again to put on the same display of the little material that covered your pussy. You sat on your heels and leaned your torso back onto the ground behind you, letting your back arch with one hand stabilizing you on the ground as the other ran over your clothed pussy, eliciting another desperate moan from Josh.

When you raised your body back up, his face was redder than it was before. He was watching you intently with his cock half pulled out of his briefs and leaking pre-cum over his fist that was now moving at a much faster pace than before. And you recognized the expression he wore. It was one you'd seen many times over, the one he wore when he was teetering over the edge, staring his orgasm in the face. It was a fucking beautiful sight, one that never failed to render you speechless. But now, with the fun being so close to ruined at his own hand, you didn't hesitate to speak up.

"Stop," you demanded as you stood to your feet, and he let out a sound of pathetic frustration as his hand reluctantly slowed to a halt.

You gave him only a mean laugh as you dropped into a squat once more, only this time to push his legs apart and hook your finger into the waistband of his briefs, snapping the material lightly against his skin and catching the head of his cock.

"Oh fuck!" He jerked instinctively, his eyes flying open and dropping down to where your finger traced a line down the underside of his cock, now sitting prominently against his abdomen.

"Oops," you feigned pity with a smile lingering closely behind, beginning to become mesmerized yourself in the way he looked itching to be touched even just a little bit more than you allowed.

"You little tease," he hissed without pulling his eyes away from that lazy finger that reach the base of his shift and twirled back up toward the head where it poked out of his waistband, angry and red and swollen.

"That is the idea," you smirked as you dropped your eyes to watch your own movements and the way he twitched beneath them.

It seemed an agonizingly long moment before his hand finally sprang from its hold against the rungs of the chair to grip your wrist tightly, keeping your finger where it rested against him. His eyes looked desperate when he turned them up toward you, like he was pleading with you to be nice, to give in.

"I need more," he practically whimpered.

Josh was breathtaking when he was in need, utterly mouthwatering. Really, you wanted nothing more than to ride him into oblivion right then and there. You could feel the moisture between your legs already threatening to soak through what little material covered you at just the thought. But Josh was also fun to tease and you weren't sure you were quite through with your fun.

You gave him a thoughtful look, resting the forefinger of your free hand against your chin as you pretended to be lost in thought before finally dropping it and giving him a simple, "No".

He gripped your wrist a little harder then, only a glimpse of his strength and something that never failed to turn you on, as little as you saw that side of him.

"Please mama, I'll be so good for you. So fucking good for you, I swear," he begged, his eyes turned up to you like you were his God, there only to be worshipped by him.

Pulling your wrist from his grasp, you moved your hands to cradle his face softly.

"You want to feel my pussy?" you asked, a hint of condescension in your voice that only seemed to make him twitch harder against his stomach.

"Yes, please, I need to feel you. Need to feel how wet and tight you are."

"Yeah? Does your cock ache for me?"

"Fucking always, you have no idea. I belong inside of you. Goddamnit, I belong to you."

He looked painfully hard, practically throbbing with need, a perfect seat for you as you nestled your body snugly against him. His cock fit perfectly between your legs and your breasts practically pushed into his face, you began to grind up and down his length and his reaction was immediate, his eyes rolling back and his head falling backward against the chair.

"But I'm not finished with my dance, pretty boy," you whispered against the shell of his ear as you continued your torment, beginning to torment yourself now too.

He only groaned out something unintelligible as his eyes squeezed shut and his hands flew up to your hips to work you into a faster grind. But again, you found his wrists in your palms and pushed them back down to his sides where they once again found the rungs of the chair.

"I didn't say you could touch yet," you reprimanded him before pulling the material of your panties to the side to let your wet center glide easily along his length, still half shrouded in his underwear.

"Oh fuck, mama, that feels good," he exclaimed in a breathy sigh.

He was missing the sight of your pussy leaving a wet trail of arousal along his cock, turning the material of his briefs transparent enough that you could see it throb angrily out of sheer want. But the sight of him was even better, his head thrown back to showcase his neck, red and straining, the veins along the side protruding and pulsing as his muscles tensed harder. Actually, he looked like he was about to cum with barely any touch at all and it plastered a wicked smile onto your face.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're about to cum," you sighed in the sweetest voice you could manage.

But Josh stayed silent, shaking his head fervently as his knuckles turned white and the muscles in his arms flexed.

"No? You're not gonna cum from my pussy sliding up and down your hard fucking cock? Getting it all nice and wet for you?"

"Shit-that's not fair," he groaned, using all of his strength to lift his head and look at you.

When he did, you saw the glazed look in his eyes, a half-gone look that almost made you feel sorry for not taking him into your cunt right then and there.

"I know, I just can't help myself. Been such a good boy," you mumbled as you dipped down to lick the sheen of sweat coating his neck all the way up to his chin and earning a whimper from him.

"Oh, you like that? You like when I call you a good boy?"

"Fuck, yes, I love it."

"Can you be my good boy and cum for me? Right under my lap?"

There was a look of desperation in his eyes as you leaned back and picked up your movements, like he was trying desperately to stop himself. But it was no use.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he chanted and with the string of expletives on his lips, he exploded onto his abdomen.

"So fucking beautiful when you come," you mused as you slowly brought your grinding to a halt when his pleasure began to turn into sensitivity.

Without missing a beat, you lifted off his lap and dropped to your knees between his legs, much to his confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly as he stared down at you.

"I'm cleaning up your mess, pretty boy," you smiled.

You ran your fingertip lightly over the head of his cock, admiring the way his whole body practically twitched at even the slightest stimulation. You couldn't help but giggle lightly before leaning in to lick the cum off his head and abdomen.

"Oh fuck," he sighed as he threw his head back again at the feeling of your tongue grazing along the head of his cock and collecting his release.

"You taste so good," you breathed before finally pulling the hem of his underwear down to free him and take his head into your mouth to suck gently on it, making sure to get every last drop.

His muscles went taught immediately, his feet and thighs moving against the now stark overstimulation. He struggled to keep his hips still as he writhed beneath you, unsure if he was allowed to use his hands yet.

"Shit, it's too-too much, mama, too much," he whimpered with his hands raised next to his head, ready to dive into your hair.

You pulled your lips off of him with a hard pop and stared up at him with a wet face.

"Oh come on, you can give me a little more, can't you Joshy? Just a little more for me?"

He sucked his lip between his teeth and after a moment of thought, finally gave you a nod that brought a smile to your face before you dove in again. You took him further into your mouth to taste his salty sweet skin before swirling your tongue around the head, making him buck his hips up as his hand flew to your hair. He seemed unable to decide whether to push you further down onto his cock or pull you away to get some relief. But it did neither, just folded into your hair as he let you work up into a nasty rhythm. His hips struggled with the same dilemma, alternating between fucking up into your mouth to chase the feeling and withdrawing to escape the sensation that began to dull everything else in his body as it turned almost painful.

The sounds he made above you were like nothing you'd ever heard. It was a mix between moans and whines and whimpers as he fought the feeling of whatever was building within him, but then all at once, his grip on your hair tightened and pushed you down onto his length fully as he released down the back of your throat. His voice rising in volume as he let out a sharp curse, you felt his tip nudging the back of your throat as he rode out his high.

"S-shit, yes, that-fuck-that feels so fucking-" He was out of energy before he could even finish his sentence, collapsing back onto the chair as you pulled off of him with a hard suction.

When your lips passed his head, you made sure to suck good and hard one final time. It seemed you might even suck his soul from his body, too, the way he writhed and whimpered at the feeling, hands grabbing the sides of the seat before you treated fully and left him a gasping mess. Sweat matted his curls to his forehead and with a swipe of his hand as his chest heaved up and down, he slicked them back with the palm of his hand and an exhausted smile at his lips, ready to tinge it up into an almost cock afterglow that he wore so fucking well.

"Fuck, that was-" he started, unable to finish as he fought to regain his breath.

"I know, baby, you did so good for me," you smiled at him feeling completely and utterly satisfied. Well, other than the ache between your legs that seemed to only be fueled by the way he looked with his hair pushed back and his forehead and neck and chest dripping in sweat.

And thankfully, his exhaustion only seemed to last a mere moment before his hands instinctively reached for your body again and pulled you back onto his lap.

"I want to taste you," he whispered, the tinge of desperation gone but replaced by desire to make you cum just as hard as you had made him.

"Yeah?" you questioned, uncertain he even had the energy but hoping you'd get to find out.

"Please, more than anything. Let me show you how good I can be for you with my tongue."

He still had that look like he wanted to worship you, but much more focused. Almost dangerous, really. He looked like he knew how badly you wanted him and like he was ready to do something about it.

You gave him another faux thoughtful look in hopes it would urge on more begging from the beautiful boy sitting beneath you. He was so good at it, after all.

"I can tell how wet you are," he said, playing into your wants like he was reading your mind. He reached one hand down to run his fingers along your slit, stopping at the bundle of nerves at the helm to tease it gently with the pads of his fingers. "Please let me taste it. You deserve to feel good, you deserved to be fucked by my tongue."

It only took a fervent nod before he was picking you up in his arms and turning to plop you down onto the edge of the bed behind him. Even faster, it seemed, he was dropping to his knees before you like in prayer and pulling the crotch of your lingerie further to the side to expose your delicious cunt to himself.

"I could spend the rest of my life just buried between your legs, teasing and tasting this needy little clit," he breathed, his breath hot against your thighs as he placed gentle kisses along your skin, all while his eyes stayed fixed to yours.

You propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch as he kissed his way to your center where he used his tongue to push through your folds and prod into you, letting it sink into you so he could taste you. His eyes rolled back at just the taste and you felt your own roll at the feeling as your head dropped back to welcome the sudden pleasure flowing through your body.

He was right, you were wet, because when he withdrew his tongue, his face already glistened. But he didn't stay retreated; immediately he liked one long stripe up your slit, letting his tongue land and focus on your clit as he spread your moisture and his own saliva around with an ungodly wet noise that filled the air.

When you lifted your head to watch his movements, you were greeted with his eyes, fixed and unrelenting on yours as he worked. He sucked your clit into his mouth, creating a tight suction around it as he pulsed his lips and flicked against it with his tongue. It felt sloppy and the sounds that echoed around the room were immoral but they only served to push you closer and closer to the edge, threatening to spill over right there in his mouth.

He worked you diligently, almost to the point of overstimulation before you'd even cum, his attention to your clit unrelenting even as his fingers prodded your hole, teasing the outer rim before dipping in fully only to go back to teasing again. He brought you close fast as he curled his fingers up into you, finally letting them push and pull and curl the way you wanted to and fucking them into you nice and fast as his tongue still worked at your clit, lapping at it just right.

You were close. You were right there. Your hips bucked up into his mouth, pressing your clit harder against his tongue as you writhed, searching for the friction you needed.

"Oh fuck, Josh, yes, I'm right there!"

Your eyes fixated on him as he unwound you, making you cum hard against his mouth and tongue, all over his fingers as they slicked even easier through their rhythm of fucking into you to guide you through it a bit more gently than you had for him. And finally he was retreating his mouth altogether and pulling your legs up around his hips to push you further up the bed where he collapsed next to you.

"All this time and I never even knew," he whispered despite the content smile resting on his face.

"I'm sorry. I never know how to bring it up, especially when everyone else that I've brought it up to was so judgemental about it," you admitted.

To your surprise, he laughed and shook his head.

"They were all fucking idiots if they didn't want that."

You chuckled back, slowly at first before you both fell into a fit of giggles together.

"Yeah, I suppose I was good at my job, huh?" you teased.

"Employee of the fucking year, mama," he smiled back before launching an attack of kisses on the side of your face as you squealed for mercy.

[neverchecking]

hello! would it be possible to request yandere sage to a reader who got split from the chain but has a switch with them?

I adore your headcanons for him and I honestly would just love to see some more of him, perhaps he's trying to figure out if they're yiga or not since y'know only they see him as link without zelda and they just show it off reluctantly?

SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE-YOU ABSOLUTELY FUCKING CAN.

Ahem. Yes, you very much can request my precious baby boy.

For those of you who don't know, Sage is the Hero of the Zonai, A.K.A. The Link from Tears of the Kingdom-- if we go down the route that he's a different guy from Wild. So TotK spoilers.

Anyway, look whose got his own banner! SAGE DOES-

CW: Talk of death, but nothing happens (Bc Sage won't let it happen)

He was very...unsure of you, to put it lightly.

Which was rare in and of itself since he knew most things. He knew how the Gloom hands would react should he hit them with a Dazzlefruit. He knew the exact force he would have to throw a splash fruit for it to burst in a splash of water. He knew the exact amount of force required to bend a Yiga's arm before it snaps a lot.

But he didn't know anything about you. Which put him on edge.

You came out of this weird...void thingy that he had never seen before and you dressed weirdly. You had began to call out desperately for names the second you had collected yourself (He had no clue who Wild or Twilight or Wind were, but whoever named those poor fools needed to be fired. Those names were awful.) . He watched you stumble like a newborn fawn, full of naive innocence and blind trust in the world around you.

What a fool you were.

Still, he couldn't look away. He didn't move from his place perched in a particularly tall tree, but he didn't let his attention wander from you. He couldn't. It was like you were...magnetic, drawing him in to your orbit just to keep him there.

Somewhere above him, the light dragon let out a warble. His ears flickered in that general direction, but otherwise he paid it no mind, clicking the claws on Rauru's hand against the bark of the tree.

You seemed so hopelessly lost, wandering about. It certainly didn't seem like you were the traveling type, so why you were out here, he had no idea. You would killed before long. He wondered how you would die. Something fast and quick? An electric arrow from a Lizalfos? (They had been getting unexplainably stronger now that he thought about it.) Maybe one swift hit from a Horriblin? Or maybe it would be something long and drawn out. Maybe a Frost Gleeok would freeze you so badly Hypothermia took over your limbs before freezing your lungs. Or maybe a Fire Gleeok would roast you alive before you even had the chance to register they were there. Perhaps the King himself would do both before shocking your battered form to hell and back. Or maybe the Gloom hands would grab at your flailing arms and legs, holding you still while they drained the life force right out of you.

Something full of anger lit up in his gut at just the thought of you getting hurt. He had no reason to get so livid at even a scratch on your form, but for some reason it had him snarling to himself, as if daring the universe to test him.

He wouldn't put it past Hylia at this point, that vengeful bitch.

It seemed she took his challenge to heart anyway, just as you slipped out some strange device about the same size as his Purah pad. You were so immersed in the damned thing that you didn't even hear one of the trees moving around behind you. Which was beyond him since they weren't quiet.

You didn't even look up until the shadow was looming over you and he was jumping from his tree. Riju's power sparked to life as he pulled out his bow, stunning the tree with enough power it fell with a pull of purple smoke. Something began leaking out of the discarded log, black and viscous, as it always seemed to do these days. It didn't make any difference to him, they all died the same anyway.

You had fallen onto your ass as he approached, watching him like prey would watch the predator. Nothing but wide eyes leaking with fear as he loped upon you. It made his gut swing with something foreign as he eyed you. He wasn't stupid. He knew the Yiga would go to some, frankly, extraordinary lengths to have his head on a stick. Whose to say they wouldn't set up some form of act where they attacked each other just to garner his attention?

He held out his weapon towards you, the Lynel horn glinting in the light as it prodded against your neck. You vulnerable and fragile little neck. You looked like you were about to cry at the action.

Unrelated, he pulled back just a bit. His snarl remained just the same. "Who are you?" He barked, daring you to avoid his question. Your...device was discarded at your side, which you quickly grappled onto as some form of protection. He'd have to remain weary of that. If it was anything like his Purah pad, it would be of an annoyance. Especially if you were a Yiga. They were able to replicate the Thunder Helm for Din's sake. (That was a mess and a half to retrieve.)

You swallowed hard, wincing away from him before fighting the urge to look up at him. His heart stuttered at the positively broken look you showed. You were so scared and so frightened.

He was supposed to be a hero.

(A part of him argued that he was the hero. Had been the hero. And look where it got him? Right back at the start. Fighting for his life once more. Fighting for someone who wouldn't do the same for him. Fighting for a Goddess who only used him as a pawn only to discard him when he was done.)

There was no way you were Yiga. You couldn't have been. None of them would've ever looked up at him like that. Nor could you have been a puppet of Ganon. Puppets and Yiga would burst out into an offensive attack the second they caught sight of him.

You didn't pose a threat.

But that didn't clear your name. "I asked you a question. I expect an answer." He allowed ultrahand to light up Rauru's arm in a warning red.

You blinked before shakily swallowing, holding your device to your chest. "...Y/N."

So that was your name. It was a nice name. Suited your features well and rolled off the tongue. Each syllable seemed built for your very being. He repeated it, using the tip of his weapon to tilt your chin up to face him again. That same, Goddess damned, look was sprawled on your features as he looked over you. You didn't seem injured outside of a bandaged wrap around your lower neck and left shoulder.

You had been hurt. Perhaps it was under that Wild's watch, whoever they were. They were unfit to care for you it seemed. He would happily take over if it meant you didn't get hurt any longer.

"You're...Link, right?"

He blinked, weapon staggering for a second. How did you know who he was? No one knew who he was anymore. Not without that wretched Zelda beside him, giving him a title he felt disgraced his very being. The swordsman. it was all Mineru called him and it burned something bitter in him.

He pushed the weapon further against your skin, watching it turn a harsh red before flashing to white. "What's it to you?" His teeth were bared as you tried to pull away, if only to breath just a little. He didn't let you. While it made his gut rot and knot at the thought of hurting you, he couldn't risk his own life. Not when he had a duty, Not when he had a vengeance. A vendetta.

"I can explain!" You hurriedly called, making him pull back once again.

"I would do so quickly."

You shook in your spot as your showed him the device. It seemed to have a selection of boxes, each holding a different picture. The one you hovered over read something in a language he couldn't read, but there was a picture of him. Right there. This was your explanation? It was pitiful. He almost did away with you, if only to move on, but you spoke before he could.

"You're Link. The wielder of the Master Sword. I- I'm from some other world. I, along with a group of others, are travelling to fight a dark magic that has been effecting many Hyrules across time. It's evidently effected yours." You gestured to the log, which now had an inky puddle beneath it. "We're here to help."

He pulled the weapon away, but didn't raise his glare from your form. "I don't need help."

"I never said you did." You let out a sigh full of relief. "But sometimes having someone watch your back is nice. I know you haven't had that person for you, which breaks my heart. This adventure is your second, third if we count...Ya'know..." You trailed off as his eyes narrowed. Were you talking about the Calamity? The Calamity he fell to? "You haven't had help, which I can only imagine as exhausting."

You were speaking nonsense. Nonsense that made him bubble with understanding of a sort. It was a clumsy attempt, but you were trying to offer support to him. Support he had never had previously.

He could kick his past (Three minutes ago) self for ever dreaming of hurting you, even if it was for his own personal safety. The thought of having someone offer just a tad bit of help to his battered and broken from, riddled with gloom, had him feeling a bit lighter.

He wouldn't trust you right away, he had gotten burned one too many times from doing that, but he would get you to a stable. Ensure you were safe from infection and whatever else before he made a decision regarding you and him in any sort of capacity.

Maybe take you to your group if only to see if those filth were worthy of your presence.

He would ensure you were safe in his, nevertheless. If he had to do away with the others, then so be it.

If he wanted to keep something, he would need to cling to it.

And this was just the start of his grip on you. Whether you knew it yet, or not.

[tachimichishrine]

i’ve found someone who writes for tachi?? omg?? you’re writing is so amazing i love it! can i req an x reader where she’s like chuuya’s subordinate in the pm so she’s higher ranking than tachihara but takes an interest in him bc, hello?? who wouldn’t? so she starts to play specific moves that draw them closer together (ngl im thinking mastermind by taylor swift if yk the song) and when they’re finally dating he confesses that he knew what she was doing the whole time? aka intelligent slightly manipulative reader thinking she’s being slick abt it. thank youu!

<welcome to the corner of tumblr where we worship tachi and have no shame about it !!!!!!!!!!! OH FUCK YEAH I love this ask I love the idea and I love you, i've never heard that song before but woah it got my brain juices flowing, sorry it took centuries but here you go luv ♡>

"mastermind"

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tachihara michizou x fem! chuuya's subordinate! reader

warnings: mention of drugs/alcohol and drink spiking (dont try this at home kids) ; a little bit of gore/torture but it's one sentence ; for some reason there are some elements of kind of sort of yandere!reader that just manifested themselves grgrgr but barely i promiseee ; fluff + plot ; cursing n intended lowercase

it was the middle of the night, and your phone wouldn't stop ringing. you tried snoozing it, turning it on silent but it would keep vibrating on the night table aggressively. against your better judgement, you picked it up and took a look at the caller id.

"boss man 🤏🧍"

well, you couldn't ignore that.

"what the fuck do you want you short little shit, it's 2 in the fucking morning," you grumbled, then cleared your throat before actually pressing the green icon to pick up the line. "hello, boss. is there anything I can-"

"cut the bull, where the hell are you?"

"um, at home? sleeping?" you raised a brow that he couldn't see. "am I supposed to be somewhere?"

"you- forget about it. just get here, now."

now, he was really getting on your nerves. "get where? I can't read your mind, boss, what-"

he hung up.

you didn't have a problem with chuuya in general; he was a decent guy, sometimes. you got assigned to work under him in the fallout of his partner, the famed demon prodigy, disappearing. of course, he didn't want anything to do with you at first, and you would've felt the same if mori wasn't breathing down your neck to keep on it. so, you kept showing up on his missions a few minutes before he arrived, the information already extracted or people already beat to a pulp.

he still wouldn't budge, so you had enough of working so hard just to be his subordinate and exploded at him one day. he could barely get a word in as you yelled loudly and ranted about his inability to accept help. while he was speechless in the aftermath, you just sighed tiredly, handed him your phone number and said that you weren't going away anytime soon and you'd appreciate it if he would just let you work for him already. time passed and eventually you got his trust.

what you didn't get, however, was an explanation for why you were rushing to slide into clothing fit for the outside world and making your way to the port mafia headquarters. it was the only place he could mean, so you ran over there with guns strapped to your thighs and safety off. you had to plan for whatever the hell might've been going on, but all you saw was a nearly empty lobby.

you cursed under your breath, irritated that you busted your ass for no reason. from the corner of your eye, you found a familiar face and approached him.

"hirotsu," you walked over with a pissed expression, "do you know where chuuya is?"

"oh, chuuya isn't here. he told me he'd be sending someone to deal with it," he said following a polite nod of the head. "he needed the black lizard to perform a mission, but he's unavailable tonight. so, he said that he'd send you."

"he's unavailable?" your eyes nearly bulged straight out of your skull, but you caught the slight squint in his face. "oh. he's drunk out of his mind, isn't he?"

hirotsu nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so. mori only gave him this assignment tonight, and he was already intoxicated when he got the call. I was with him when it happened, so I suggested he call you."

"oh, he so owes me one after tonight," you chuckled, less angry now that you realized he was probably just collapsed on his couch at home and will have the worst hangover the next morning, which you could easily mock him for. well, at least that brightened your mood a little, aside from seeing the black lizard in action. you'd heard of them, ordered massacres through hirotsu but never been there to witness it. that would definitely be fun. "sooo, what exactly do I need to do? just be there or something? yell out 'fire!' like some kind of medieval war commander? 'cause I've always wanted to do that."

the old man was slightly amused by all of your excitement regarding the concept. he said that he just needed someone to be there in case, and you were technically of a higher ranking than he was. you told him that he was such a stickler for hierarchy; he retorted that you sounded like some guy he worked with named tachihara. who that was, you hadn't a clue, but you were assured he'd be there alongside another leader of the battalion.

the rest was a lot less interesting than you thought it would be. you strolled into an abandoned warehouse where the enemy was based with a small army behind you, and you stood there while they lined themselves at your side and waited for your word. you went against your inner child and ordered them to fire in a normal voice rather than a stupidly dramatic one, then you just watched the bodies fall. you glanced at the side to see hirotsu, who was intently scanning his surroundings to make sure there were no tricks. by his side, you saw a masked person and another man who was half-asleep, leaning against the wall.

you fell hard to the sound of gunshots.

maybe it was the way his entire body leaned onto the worn concrete, the way his foot was flattened against the wall and his hips slumped lopsidedly, the way his v-neck plunged down his chest from under his coat, the way his jaw sat tight and clenched despite his slender neck bending backwards to rest the weight of his head behind him. you pulled your gaze off of him since you were afraid of staring, but everyone was already dead and hirotsu was commanding the nameless suits back to hq. the man opened one eye - fuck, they were a glossy amber, some of the prettiest you'd ever seen - and scoffed while he followed them out. he walked like a textbook delinquent, hands in his pockets with awful posture, and you just watched him.

shit, what just happened? you exchanged some brief words with hirotsu as he thanked you for showing up, but all went over your head. you blurted out the question before you could think twice.

"which one of them was tachihara? out of the two who came with us. since, y'know, you were mentioning him earlier..." since, y'know, you couldn't get the picture of your mystery man out of your head and you needed to know his name.

following the affirmation that it was indeed the man with the bandage on his face, you at least had a name as you flopped back into bed at 5 in the morning. you didn't sleep, and you sure as hell couldn't get your heart to stop beating so fast.

something had unhinged inside of you, and all you knew was that you were going to have him.

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"boss, what'd'ya want me to do to 'em?" you yawned, half-asleep as you sat next to the hungover mafioso who was holding some kind of mystery drink in his hand while the other shielded his eyes from the light of day. you came over to his apartment - something which you knew he hated but was in no position to protest right now - and were simultaneously nursing him back to health and being a pain in his ass. "if word gets out that we annihilated the organization but two of their executives are still alive, our rep would take a hit."

"can you shut the fuck up," he groaned, body slumping further onto his fancy kitchen counter while you continued to laugh internally at him and his slightly pathetic situation.

"look, boss, I'll tell you what," you leaned down to his crouched over height and placed a cautious hand on his shoulder, "I'll take care of it. the whole thing. I just need your permission to grab the black lizard if I need 'em for support, but I can make sure it all goes away. and you can just sit today out and spend all day in bed if that's what you want. how does that sound, boss?"

he grumbled and passed out again; you took that as a yes.

you smiled to yourself as you picked up the unconscious body bridal-style, walked over to his bedroom and set him down. he complained loudly in undefined slurring, but you just shushed him and tucked him in under the covers. he was still trying to argue with you when you removed his hat, placed it at his bedside and then gently kissed his forehead and wished him a good nap. it was a little ironic just how much your boss felt like an uncontrollable younger sibling, but you would never say it to his face as you enjoyed the use of your unfractured limbs.

you tiptoed your way out of the apartment and the building, despite being fairly certain that not even an earthquake could disturb his slumber, with parts and pieces of your plan coming together. what you said was true, you did need to take care of those surviving executives. but you didn't really need the black lizard.

you only needed him.

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tachihara heard a gentle cocking of the gun as you glanced in his direction, waiting confirmation that he was indeed ready to storm the facility. you had managed to track down the runaways and corner them in their hideout, and decided you'd call for "backup"; you asked hirotsu for someone who was good with guns and mid-range fighting, since you knew that if you didn't specify, you might end up with the other commander of the black lizard. you didn't like leaving things to chance.

you tilted your head to the side, giving the signal for him to go ahead and sneak down the next hallway. he was eerily good on his feet, light steps as if he were made to be a spy. you did a lot of infiltration work on chuuya's behalf (his face - rather, his short frame - were too easily recognizable on the streets), and every second got you thinking of ways to subtly suggest to him that he provide backup once more on any one of your numerous infiltration missions.

for his part, tachihara didn't seem to be noticing all the coincidences lately. he didn't appear particularly deft or clueless, just indifferent as if he truly couldn't care less. instead of a faint pang in the backrooms of your heart, you felt a sense of challenge, like it was your mission to get him to fall for you because the good things in life are worth fighting for. besides, where's the fun in it if he wasn't playing hard to get?

the mission went by in a blur. you mimicked his mannerisms, ensuring that your movements were perfectly synced with his so that your gunshots felt more like a dance, synchronized bullet ballet. when all was done and the bodies were dropped, you shot him a faint smile.

he raised a brow, perplexed at your joy among the sea of blood, but you began clutching at your chest like he'd shot you with his glare and he chuckled a little bit. you could've sworn you fell in love with him all over again.

"say, I was wondering..." you thought out loud as you crouched down to the body of the target, pulling out a knife from your calf, "are you new? in the port mafia, I mean. I've been here ages and I don't think I would've forgotten someone who shoots like you do."

leaning on the wall while he watched you carve out their skin, peeling off a specific section that had their organization's signature tattoo, tachihara scoffed. "what's it to you?"

"just makin' small talk, don't get your panties in a twist sweetheart," you snickered, albeit screaming a little internally; you didn't expect him to be so resistant. you bagged the proof you needed to show your boss that you got the job done, then rose back to your feet. "alright, we're done here. thanks for the backup."

"wasn't like it was my choice," he rolled his eyes, although you didn't sense any true irritation in his voice. good, this is good, you can work with that.

"wasn't your choice, huh?" you repeated to yourself out loud. "how 'bout this, then: I'm gonna go grab a drink, so it'd be your choice if ya wanted to tag along, no?"

he murmured something about being busy and you tried not to let him see you frown as you walked out.

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this was your fifth "coincidence".

coincidentally, tachihara ended up needing to hand-deliver a message to chuuya, but you coincidentally bumped into him and promised to pass it on. he looked at you a bit suspiciously, but didn't say anything.

coincidentally, you were out drinking with hirotsu on the same day he was going to join the old man. you wouldn't go so far as to say that you played a part in the veteran's sudden diarrhea that left you two alone, but then again it was quite odd that you slipped some sort of substance in his drink right before. not that anyone saw, of course.

coincidentally, weeks of coincidences paid off. every time you'd run into him, need the black lizard or the other way around, he was starting to loosen up. you had a number of inside jokes and he spoke a little more on missions.

this time, you had to go negotiate with a foreign organization from which you imported an important number of your firearms. chuuya was available to go, but you pleaded with him to let you do this on your own, making up some lie about how sending an underling instead of an executive would show them that they are not the ones in control. he seemed skeptical but let you go.

soon afterwards, you whipped out your phone to dial his number.

"it's so unfair!" you complained to tachihara, groaning loudly as you combed through your closet for the right outfit for the occasion. "like I get it, he's busy and all, but dumping a mission on me last minute? sheesh, that's a cheap move, especially from chuuya. I've got 2 hours to figure out what the fuck I'm going to say to these people."

you left the phone on speaker while you pressed dresses against your figure, glancing in the mirror to see if it was the right one. "and it's a big organization, too! I have no idea what I'm going to do if things go south except get my brains blown out."

lies. if things went south, you would easily be able to make your way out unscathed. you were the right hand woman to a port mafia executive, not a scared little girl, but he didn't need to know that right now.

"would'ya like me to tag along? if they see one person, it might look like you were sent as a sacrifice, but if we're two, they'll know we mean business," he offered, as planned. you pumped your fists in the air and contained a squeal.

"hm? oh, you don't need to do that, tachi," you said softly, sliding out of your clothes and into your form-fitting outfit, making sure to check out your ass and reaffirm that you looked stunning. "wait! I'm just kidding," you giggled playfully, "it would mean a lot if you did. thanks."

he chuckled the faintest amount, and you made plans for when and where to meet. you told him that it was a high-end restaurant, so he'd need to wear something fancy enough to blend in, but of course the high-end restaurant was your idea. you'd planned it all in advance, setting up a corner in the back of a place that the mafia had under their thumb and inviting the organization there.

a date, it was a date, and it didn't matter if he didn't know it.

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"you look stunning, dear." he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it, looking up with soft eyes you'd never have expected. he pulled out a seat for you and called the waiter to get you a cold glass of water.

unfortunately, "he" was the executive from the other organization, not tachihara.

awkwardly, your plus one stood in the corner with the rest of the guards, shooting you occasional glares that basically screamed, "why did I volunteer to do this, again?" you just laughed internally and told yourself that you'd take him out again as a way to make up for it, which was your goal all along. you adored it when all the pieces fell into place.

the negotiations were flawless. the man across the table from you seemed to be very willing to cooperate, and you figured his slight cracks at flirting might've been a part of it. the other part was that he looked positively jet lagged and you might've put a little something in his wine to mellow him out. you were sure he would've reached the same conclusion if he was sober, this was just a harmless little nudge in the right direction.

"10% increase on the price for a 20% increase on the quantity of firearms imported, then," you reiterated, smiling sweetly at him while he agreed to double what someone in their right mind would ask for. "lovely doing business with you, sir. I'm glad this didn't have to escalate."

he smiled softly, offering you his hand to help you up then nodding his head towards the exit so his goons would follow him out. you looked at the piece of paper he'd slid into your palm, a phone number etched into it, then watched him looking back at you with a wink. for a moment, you could've sworn you'd almost forgotten about tachihara.

"that was boring as fuck," he strolled over to you, clicking his tongue as he complained about his feet hurting from standing there for so long, saying that he wouldn't have worn a goddamn suit and tagged along if he knew all he would be doing is watching you flirt with some guy."

"that," you stressed, pocketing the number but trying not to think about it, "was not flirting. if I was whoring myself out for the mafia, believe me I'd put myself down with my own hand."

"oh yeah? brave words for a woman with a dress that tight on her ass," he scoffed, crossing his arms before he realized what he'd just said.

"tachi, you lookin' at my ass?"

he seemed at a loss for words, huffing angrily as he walked out and you laughed to yourself. he was so cute when he got angry.

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tachihara michizou was not an idiot.

he, however, did not know what to make of your behaviour towards him.

all these run-ins, all your conveniently-timed missions where you were down one person, every text you seemed to send at the perfect time. he knew your gaze lingered on him and he knew that you wore that dress for him, but he couldn't be sure about it.

confirmation came when he was casually chatting with chuuya over drinks.

"my damn subordinate has been so fucking weird lately," the executive slurred, gesturing for another glass while he toyed with the empty one. "reminds me of that fucking dazai... always plotting some kind of shit..."

"she sounded kind of pissed with you 'cause of that last gig with the firearms dealers," he retorted before downing his shot and slamming his fist on the counter out of adrenaline. "since you dumped it on her."

"huh?! the fuck you mean, dump it on her? she was practically beggin' me for that job, said she didn't want any backup either. I'm telling you, tachi, that chick's gone mad."

so it was a lie, when you called him, complaining. he wondered what else was a lie, but then he wondered why you would lie about that.

as if on cue, a message popped up on his phone with your name on it.

"are you free tonight?"

so he wasn't imagining things. for some reason, it got his heart beating, thinking about the fact that someone would do that for him. but, before he could respond, another ping:

"I got shot sorry lol I have no idea why I made it sound like I was asking you out. could you bring a first aid kit or something? thanks a ton!!"

he concluded on the fact that you were confusing, and that he wouldn't say anything about it, especially since you probably think you're incredibly slick about it. instead, tachihara excused himself from a very drunk chuuya and said he had to go.

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"ow, ow, ow! fuck, why don't you just pour the whole damn bottle on there, while you're at i- fuck!"

the whining was hard. you had to do it manually, making sure you actually sounded like you were in pain when really, your "fever" was from all the heat of feeling tachihara's hands on you as he dabbed the wound.

ironically enough, this wasn't planned. you genuinely did fuck up, the man you never called seemed to want revenge because he sent a few people to kidnap you. you only got grazed while you took care of all the henchmen, but it still hurt like a little bitch.

he was the first place your mind went to, as always. you managed to get yourself home but you couldn't reach the spot on the bottom of your ribcage where it sliced open without feeling a lot of pain.

and so, you just turned it into an opportunity to get him in your house, sitting on your couch, his hands on your skin that was barely covered by your shirt. the alcohol he was pouring onto the wound hurt but you couldn't feel anything except pure ecstacy.

"say, you're not bad at this," you fake winced as he pinched the skin together and just put a bunch of superglue on it. "you got... gah, you got experience as a medic or somethin'?"

"how exactly did this happen?" he ignored your question and instead helped you up slightly so he could wrap the bandages around your torso.

"remember the guy from the other night? well, he gave me his number and I never called, so he got butthurt and sent some goons to fuckin' kidnap me. or kill me, I'm not sure. I didn't really pause to ask 'em."

he looked as if he almost didn't believe you, pulling down your shirt and gently tapping on the spot he bandaged. "there, you're all set."

"thanks again," you smiled at him, groaning a bit as you sat upright. "I know it's late and you were probably doing some other shit."

then a slight pause. "if you want to crash on my couch instead of walkin' home, I don't mind."

the walk wasn't long, and he didn't feel tired at all, but he didn't tell you that. he just helped you walk over to your bed then got himself comfortable on your sofa.

you'd never been happier to get shot. maybe the universe was finally on your side, in its own weird way.

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the wound was fully healed and tachihara was yours.

it was the perfect excuse to him check on you, to have him come over and stay over as "protection in case someone tries to kill you again". both of you knew your excuse was bullshit, your plotting to get him by your side so painfully obvious now that he was getting closer and closer to you. by the time he was making visits on his own and smiling at you in the hallways at the port mafia, you didn't need to do anything anymore.

it was a wordless confession; both of you walking in the streets at night, going nowhere and not saying much. it was cold and you could see both of your breaths swirling in the air. you blinked and suddenly your faces were close, too close, and your body was leaning in on its own. his lips tasted like something your mind could've never guessed.

nevertheless, you were still addicted.

something about the kiss felt effortless, too. like you didn't need to do anything, say anything to get him to wrap his hands around your hips and pull you in close. this was the way it should be, easy and effortless. like you could wait patiently and he'd fall in love with you all on his own.

"have you seen my holster?" he called out weeks later as you laid down on your couch, reading a book as he looked around for the item.

"it's over here!" you called out, the holster expertly hidden in between the cushions because you wanted him to come over to you and find it. as he walked over to you, watching you wave it while dangling on your finger, a teasing look on your features.

"you're a conniving little shit, you know that?" he sighed with a soft smile, glancing at your hands as you set down the book by your side then sitting by your side. "if you wanna talk to me, you can ask like a regular person, y'know?"

his wide smirk as he looked at you pout, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you fake-sobbed into his chest. "you're so mean, thinking I'm lying!"

he grabbed your chin, gaze directly settling onto you with a look that said not to bullshit him. "you think I don't notice? when you kept bumping into me, us getting paired up on missions, even that time you said chuuya 'dumped' that job on you? yeah, you're cute but you're not a great liar."

you furrowed your brows. "if you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

"'cause I wanted you to tell me yourself."

"asshole," you pouted, laughing as you leaned towards him and kissed the tip of his nose. "I just didn't think... never mind, it worked, didn't it?"

he rolled over, laying you down on the couch and settling himself on top of you, making sure you were trapped. "being all cryptic now, aren't we?"

"maybe," you muttered between kisses, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him deeper. "... maybe... maybe you were just... I dunno, so pretty, and I thought 'fuck, he'd never go for me' and... I don't know, it's not important..."

"aw, look at you, gettin' all soft 'n mushy," he chuckled into your neck, smiling at your words while his teeth graze the tip of your earlobe. "keep talking 'bout how out of your league that I am."

"oh, shut up," you whispered, grabbing a handful of his hair and bringing his lips back onto yours so he would stop talking. "I'm tryin to open up here, you smug dipshit."

he grinned as his hand went down in between your thighs, parting them and opening up your legs. "I like the sound of that."

you squealed playfully and rolled him over, but the couch wasn't wide enough and you both fell onto the floor with a dull thud and a frenzy of laughter.

"seriously, though," he brushed your hair out of your face and pulled your hips so you were snug on him while you caught your breath and lowered yourself to kiss him again, "you're talkin' nonsense, baby."

"mmn, if you say so," rolled right onto his tongue. you believed his words, or maybe you didn't, but it barely mattered. he was here now, in your arms and telling you everything you wanted to hear. he said that he knew of your antics, yet the truth was that he couldn't do a damn thing about it if he wanted to.

all because you're a mastermind.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hi, I got a request in mind.

Kind of anxious, straight female virgin smut with Pelle/Dead from Lords of Chaos. We are left alone at the house after the other guys decide to go out and we both decide to examine each other’s bodies, because we are both fascinated by the human body. This ends up leading to me wanting to know sex actually feels like, and he decides that could be interesting. Possible blood kink.

Love your blog so much, you're so talented & you're from my homecountry ahhh <3

Blood, Blade and Anxious

warning : smut, some fluff/comfort, blood, blood play/kink, knife play, kissing

Info : Thank you for your kind words dear anon und have spaß beim lesen ;)

masterlist

Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

How did it start? Was it the closing of the main door, the closing of the windows so that the wind couldn't pass through the chilly hut? You two were the only ones left in the house.

The blond looked away at the drawings lying on the floor in front of him and the girl next to him still let her gaze wander through his room, even though she echoed his hands.

The pictures showing different parts of his body, the knife in his hand, there was something inside her that wanted to touch him. Her gaze knew that he was looking at her, that his bright eyes were running over her body, that he wanted what was underneath.

She slowly, almost cautiously, reached her hand out to his, tracing the veins and blood vessels that showed on his pale skin, seeing him tense up, still not used to touching people. But she wouldn't play, she herself could hardly stand contact but with him it was different with Dead.

She wanted to explore his body, to finally pursue her desire for him. ,,Can I kiss you?" suddenly came the question from the blond as he reached out to her, his hand gripping hers and her fear flashed. Despite the fact that they had been together for a while, sex was still something they hadn't needed before, but now. Maybe it was because of the fair in the room, the death, the fact that they were alone or maybe they just wanted each other.

Hesitantly, she nodded and moved closer to him as he pulled her close and kissed her. She tasted the warmth, the life tasting as he began to slide his free hand under her shirt and she pressed herself against him, wanting more and more, this nagging mixed with curiosity for more.

She had heard the others with Dead fucking their girlfriends and now it was time for them both. ,,Let me see you...all of your body...this beauty," he murmured as she saw something flash in his eyes, this morbid fascination for the td as she slowly lay down on the mattress, pulling her shirt up slightly and giving him a glimpse of her upper body due to the summer struggles, she didn't wear a bra that would have only made her sweat more.

But it didn't matter when he turned his gaze to her, she looked like a statue carved out of the hard stone. His cold, pale hands wandered over her body as he caressed her sensitive spots, testing how far he could go as he kissed her again.

Her own urges slowly filled with the desire for something else, her gaze went to the metal that made her abdomen tingle with sweet excitement. Her imagination flashed, a whimper escaped her and Dead paused as he kissed his way down her neck, looking at every little vein, sight and birthmark with morbid fascination.

,,What is it? My heart," he asked, following her gaze, a grin hushcd on his lips and she agreed, her heart beating up to her neck as he finally grasped the weapon and was in front of her as he kissed his way down her body, leaving light bites and placing the knife gently against her stomach.

,,That look...you wanted it all along...to see the blood, didn't you?" he asked, running his tongue over the flat of the knife, feeling her thighs press together as a breathless nod came over her lips.

,,Yes-Yes since I saw you with it...Dead do you want it too?" she asked a hint of fear coming from her a hint of insecurity flashed again that she didn't want him to not share this fanaticism. But when she saw that he kissed her again and felt the warm red stripes on her chest, she gasped into the kiss.

She felt him slowly stroke his middle against her thigh, his arousal fueled by the sounds of her imagination as his tongue traced the lace, praising her when he finally placed the tip against her belly. ,,I'll make you a masterpiece," he whispered as he made the first cut, not too hard to kill her, not too easy not to make it bleed.

It was just right that the little rivulets of blood flowed over her skin, her approval cascading over her lips. She felt his tongue wipe away the blood, he licked at the wound to get more, his muffled moans sending a wave of arousal through her body.

Her hands held onto him lightly as he continued to rub against her. ,,Feels-Feels good," she murmured, feeling him leave more cuts that would become small scars if he wasn't careful. ,,Do you want to... do you want to feel it too?" he asked, pulling her slightly out of the pleasure. As he stood up a little from her, allowing her to sit out, he put the knife in her hand and looked at him.

Saw how he took off his pants and his excitement was clearly visible in his underpants. ,,Here right here do it...let me feel it again please" he murmured and pointed to his pale skin she realized that for others it was cloying but for the two of them it was something else it shcine like a forbidden eroticism. ,,But-but how about the well position," she murmured as he ran his hands over his face and lay down on the mattress and she understood what he wanted.

She gave him the knife again, he stroked himself and she undressed with only the top covering her upper body as she threw her panties down on the mattress and took off the rest of her clothes.

He used his hands to slowly direct her to his bulge. Her center on his ridge, moaning as the two of them escaped, she was wet and the first drops of pleasure had soaked into the fabric of his underwear.

She began to move he helped her with the movement of his hands holding her on his hoscc the look in his blue eyes the lips she kissed earnestly felt the excited twitch of his shwnazes the tingling in her abdomen as she continued to move holding onto him one hand on one breast to support herself before she finally used the knife in the other hand.

,,I'll do-ah I'll do good I'll give you blood" she mumbled gasping for air the lust clouding her mind as she finally applied the knife making the first cut a little deeper than Dead knew he wanted.

That as the blood flowed over his chest and seeped down onto the mattress and she smeared the warm liquid his moans heard the rhythm of his thrusts as he rubbed against her she found her own rhythm. The room flooded with the sounds as he continued to cut her. With each cut he made, she lost herself more and more, surrendering to the pain and blood leaking from the blade and joining him.

The moment when they became too much, the blood that clung to him, that clung to her, the lust became too much as they both moaned and reached their climax.

The knife was dropped the blood on his torso was smeared again as she lay on this light the blonde put his arms around her she held her thanking her for what she had done.

She searched for something until he found the blanket and covered her lightly with it as he gave her another bloody kiss that for the first time tasted not just of love but of bloody lust that now connected them both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@icarus-star , @ria-coolgirl , @angelsanarchy , @nunezs-stuff , @mimi-kiwi , @oceansrose2002 , @shadows-from-helvete

[zombeebunnie]

Trembling Essence:💙Script progress + Updates💙

Hello and welcome new followers, long time no see! I was very busy most of this month, but I am back and ready to continue from where I left off on the game! This game development post might be a bit long but I tried to condense everything! :]

"How are things going so far?":

It's going slow and steady! I haven't been able to do too much these past few weeks, however, I wrote a few parts out before I got too busy and couldn't do anything else.

I want to be very careful when it comes to spoilers but, based on your choices, some of these areas will give off immersive cozy/homelike vibes that really express Noah and the player(Y/N)'s view towards each other. In the old 2023 script I was very new to writing so the small semi-hints of romance weren't the entire focus compared to the horror aspect but there's a better balance between both genres now and I'm still aiming for a meaningful slow burn versus it just being all over the place. :] I liked writing them a whole bunch which lead to a lot of these taking place in the mid/end of Day 4+, they just need to be placed in specific areas that call for it. With that being said, it felt really comfy adding key details about Noah and creating meaningful sections in the game. I was even going to draw out some of the unseen script/scenes but I believe the best thing to do is give deeper lore from the [Extended Demo] first. Even though my writing style has improved I still have to fix the multiple pacing issues I wrote last year.

"Playtester's advice":

I wanted to continue working through Noah's backstory but I kept having moments where I'd get sidetracked into wanting to fix up the start of the game again. Eventually, I talked to my play testers about it and they gave me a few encouraging pointers.

To help keep my process at ease, I will fix the beginning of the game when I take breaks from writing up Noah's backstory. :]

I talked about this during early 2024 but the start of the game that leads up to the cabin is still getting reworked. I was able to get some of it fixed for the [Extended Demo] but I wasn't done. Things are still up in the air but, I will say that I have a better view of everything than I did before. :] Another priority that needs fixing are the backgrounds! I've improved a lot on drawing and they need to be optimized. When you first start up the game, you wake up in a holed out tree in the swamp with the choice to leave this area and possibly end up in the forest. I was going for a very immersive form of symbolism that only a few noticed but, I believe I can do a better job about this. Unfortunately I don't have any new backgrounds to show right now but maybe next week I'll have some finished up! :]

"Art process/Noah's sprite sheets":

As far as Noah sprite sheet goes, it's still in sketch mode.

I didn't draw anything since I was gone so I need to do a few warm ups before I get to them. There are some old drawing prompts I wrote down and old sketches that I never got a chance to doodle so hopefully I can get to them at some point with some attached lore. :,]

My Q&A / Ask box has been reset!

Thank you to those who have sent in asks in the past, unfortunately they all disappeared except for 1 while I was gone. I have no idea what happened but I can only guess it just got reset.

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask or resend them in here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

This is all I have to share so far, Thank you to everyone for the continued support and patience while I was gone! I was ready to accept the interest for this game to fade out and coming back to see that it didn't happen makes me happy, I really appreciate it. :,]