#never let me draw plaid again

[festivelyfestive]

i was so sad when they didn’t include this scene from the novel into the movie so i took matters into my own hands. they have easily my favorite character dynamic in goncharov (1973), 10/10, the qpr ever

[blueicequeen19]

Control

Warnings: public cock warming, public unprotected sex, degrading, praise, Frat Boy Rafe 🔥

I didn’t object to Rafe pulling me onto his lap, trapping me between him and the table. I didn’t object when his hand started to trace circles along my inner thigh under my plaid skirt as he continued to read his book with his free hand. I didn’t even object when he began to palm my aching bare pussy. He’d made me take my panties off before we came and tuck them in his pocket. You didn’t complain when you were dating Rafe Cameron. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. And if he wanted to fuck you in the silent library, surrounded by his college peers then you let him.

I tried to be a good girl and not shift too much on his lap but it was hard with the way his skilled fingers kept stroking my clit until my pussy and thighs were absolutely soaked.

“Rafe.” I whispered, my head against his shoulder.

“Don’t move.” Rafe instructed in a whisper, never looking up from his book. I glanced around but no one was looking up or noticed. Everyone had their nose in a book, deep in concentration. The only way they could see what was happening was if they looked under the table. But I still had to remain quiet.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down even as he reached lower and buried two fingers inside me. I clamped my mouth shut, turning my head and attempting to plead with him with my eyes but he didn’t even look up from his book. A minute passed and his fingers didn’t move. I was starting to become delirious with need. I was about to start begging in front of all these people when his thumb pressed against my clit. My body jerked against the table but no one looked up, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

“I told you not to move.” Rafe finally spoke again in my ear, his voice low in warning.

“Rafe, please, let’s go somewhere.” I hissed back, my hands gripping the table to keep myself from grinding against his fingers.

“No, I have to study.” Rafe said, turning back to his book. I was going to die. I was going to cum in front of his peers and die of humiliation and maybe even a heart attack. I couldn’t catch my breath.

“Reach behind you and undo my pants.” Rafe murmurs softly in my ear. Oh god.

My hands shake as I do as instructed, his cock springing free the moment his button releases. He wasn’t wearing boxers. I try to bring my hands back around but Rafe curls his fingers inside me, making me gasp and jerk against him. Still, no one looks up or pays us any mind.

“Stand up and take a drink of your water then sit back down on my cock.” Rafe instructs, his low voice like a caress down my spine. He removes his fingers from inside me as I plant my feet on the floor and push myself up to reach for my water bottle. I take a small sip as I feel him guide his cock between my legs and to my soaked entrance.

“Rafe?” I startle, looking to one of his friends across the table who’s trying to get his attention. I’m afraid to move but Rafe’s fingers nudge my thigh, telling me to sit down.

“Yea?” Rafe asks, like I’m not about to sit down on his cock in front of all his peers. Rafe sits his book down to grab my thigh under the table and forces me to sit. The hardest thing I’d ever encountered was resisting the urge to let my eyes roll into the back of my head as he filled me. His cock was so thick and hard that I couldn’t think.

I could barely lean forward enough to grab my book but it only made him reach a different angle and I stopped abruptly, my inner walls spasming and my bottom lip quivers. The pleasure was so intense I felt like I was going to cry.

“Did you get the finance worksheet done?” Rafe’s friend asks. Rafe’s arm wraps around my waist, pulling me firmly against his chest as he picks up his book again. I raise my own book to hide my face. They engage in conversation about homework in low voices so not to draw negative attention from the librarian all while I’m on the verge of unraveling. I could feel his cock pulsing inside me. Just as ravenous as I was.

Finally, Rafe relaxes into his seat and widens his legs, only driving his cock deeper. I let the book rest against my forehead to keep from moaning. I could feel sweat running down my back and on the back of my neck. I reach down to slide my hand under my skirt to take the edge off, to hell with these people, when Rafe’s hand suddenly snatches my wrist, holding it firmly against my side.

“Behave and I’ll let you finish.” Rafe murmurs into my ear, his breath on my skin giving me goosebumps and making me clench around him. The teasing was driving me mad. I needed to move. I needed to rock back and forth between bounces on his cock. I needed him to slap my pussy as I chased my release. I needed..

“Easy. You’re tightening around me. Wouldn’t want me to get mine without yours, would you?” Rafe taunts in my ear. My nostrils flare and I debate standing. To hell with this.

Just then a book slams shut and one of his friends announces it’s time to get something to eat. The rest follow suit except one girl who looks between us, her murderous glare landing on me before she follows the rest of them. I suddenly felt privileged to be sitting on Rafe’s cock out in the open if it brought the jealous bitch some misery.

Now that we’re alone, Rafe sits his book down and wraps his free arm around my waist. My heart rate kicks into high gear as he positions my legs on either side of his, opening me obscenely wide while immobilizing me.

“R-Rafe—.” I start, my body beginning to tremble.

“Take your panties from my pocket and put them in your mouth. I know you’re a desperate little bitch but I need you to be quiet.” Rafe murmurs, his hand sliding between my legs to stroke my clit. I buck and whimper as I reach back with a shaky hand and dig my panties from his jacket pocket. This was so degrading but I didn’t care. His cock was so hard inside me and rubbing against places that threatened to send me to another dimension. If he wanted me to put my own panties in my mouth, I would.

“Good girl.” Rafe purred, lightly slapping his hand against my pussy. My body seized and I gripped the table for dear life. Anyone could walk around the corner and catch us. We could be expelled.

All thoughts left me as Rafe begin to move, slowly pumping his cock in and out of me like his soul purpose in life was to see me lose control.

“Fuck yes.” Rafe breathed, pumping his hips harder and faster. The sound of my arousal was obvious with every push and pull of his thick cock. The thought of being caught only made me more wet. I was right there. Right. There.

“Put your feet on the floor and grab the table.” Rafe suddenly says, helping me maneuver my shaking legs over his to reach the floor. My body tightened around his again as I brought my legs together, tears filling my eyes as I did as I was told.

“Lift up just a little and hold it. Don’t move.” Rafe rasps, his voice thick with need too. Good. I wanted this to drive him just as crazy.

The moment I used the table to lift myself up, he started to fuck me hard and fast, his pelvis slamming against my ass where he yanked my skirt up. I buried my face against my arm to keep from making any noises even with my own panties in my mouth as he pistoned into me, using his hands on my hips to pull me back into every thrust. All while he stayed sitting down.

“Cum you little slut. Let me feel it drip down to my fucking balls.” I didn’t have to be told twice. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, my body seizing and convulsing as he ripped the most intense orgasm of my life from my body. I knew I’d made a mess. I faintly heard a small gasp that I knew hadn’t came from me so I lifted my eyes to find the mean girl from earlier watching us with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth. I smiled at her just as Rafe huffed a breath and spilled inside me, flooding my insides with his warmth.

“Goddamn.” Rafe breathed, pulling me back against him as the evidence of what we’d just done drips from me. The girl turns and flees and that makes me happier.

“How about you get underneath this table and clean up our mess then we’ll go get dinner?” Rafe whispers in my ear, his hand sliding between us to cup where we’re still connected. I turn my head to face him and he pulls my panties from my mouth and kisses me hard. I begin to rock my hips again, my cares from earlier completely forgotten about as I chase another high. Rafe pulls back from the kiss to smirk at me, his hand sliding lower to force two fingers inside me along with his cock. I wince. The stretch too much but too good to stop.

“Greedy fucking slut. One more then you’re going to lap up this mess.” Rafe breathes, kissing me again to silence me as I fall apart again.

If he wanted me to crawl naked on broken glass just to taste him.. I would.

You didn’t tell Rafe Cameron no.

[anadiasmount]

BFF so morning fluff with jude (waking up and stuff) nd you are in his hoodie wearing nothing underneath ... then you're in the kitchen making breakfast and he's behind you, running his hands inside his hoodie your wearing to find out you're still wearing nothing underneath and it turns him on (slight smut)

BESTIEEEE!!! "nothing but shorts skirts around the house" ** 🤭🤭 // here's my treat to you!! like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

the rain hitting and tapping the windows woke you abruptly, squinting your eyes and looking around the room, quiet and dark, beside the 6ft man who slept sound asleep next to you. jude had his arm wrapped around your naked body, his chin on top of your head snoring slightly. brows drew in as his lips pursed.

jude's hand twitched pulling you closer to him as if nothing happened. recalls of last night played in your head as you remembered how the long night was filled with shared love and lust. kisses, moans, reassurance, and giggles of 'i love you's". he never failed to make you feel special and wanted.

you scrolled on your phone for a bit, replying to messages and emails, and going through your shopping cart to see what needed to be bought and or returned. it had been a long and hectic 2 weeks for jude, playing football and training, so sleep was exactly what he deserved and needed.

you gently moved his secure arm from you, hearing him groan but then turned over to tuck himself on the other side, not once waking up. jude was a heavy sleeper, and when he slept, he slept. the thunderstorm from outside wouldn't even wake him, let alone if it got worse throughout the day.

after brushing your teeth, you slip into a black hoodie he wore once to a basketball game, no undergarments underneath since the hoodie fits you loose, and is bigger than a dress. it went almost touching your knees, and the sleeves had to be rolled up. you grabbed your phone and headed to the kitchen to brew some coffee.

you yawned, stretching your arms and legs, feeling the cold floor beneath you, as you turned on the kitchen lights. you checked the security cameras to ensure nothing had happened over the night, and made sure every door was locked because you never know. you attempted to blend the coffee quietly, quickly putting it into the filter and began to brew it.

it was still early, and jude had the day off with you. he promised he'd workout and then spend the rest of the day with you, either cuddled up or doing last-minute shopping, although the last time that felt impossible with everyone recognizing him. you laugh at the memory, pulling out the carton of eggs, some veggies to add, and fruit to cut up.

you quietly played music in the background, dicing the fruit first, taking two small bowls out for each of you. you hummed quietly, making sure you wouldn't cut yourself as you cut into the jalapenos, cherry tomatoes, and onions to add to the eggs. jude walked down still asleep and groggy, scratching the side of his head as he approached you.

he wore black plaided pj pants walking shirtless. "hi babe, good morning," you greeted leaning up to meet his kiss in a quick peck. jude groaned feeling you pull away and return back to what you were doing. "coffee just finished, and now I'm making some eggs," you say, feeling jude come behind you and tug you into his chest once again.

"my favorite way," jude cheers, looking at all the veggies spread out in the pan sizzling. "gosh I'm so tired, my legs are killing me from the game yesterday," jude complained, not letting go of you once even when he reached to get the two mugs.

he grabbed some scooby doo cookies, dipped them into the warm drink, and ate them. the two of you conversed about yesterday, and plans for today, agreeing if that the storm got worse you'd stay in and recover here.

you squirmed around your space, giggling, as you felt jude teasingly running up his larger hands on your thighs and sides. his fingertips drawing shapes and lines as he ran them under his hoodie, just to find out you wore nothing underneath. "jude?" you asked, feeling as he went quiet and stopped his movements.

"hmm?"

"are you okay?"

"you're not wearing anything under my hoodie, darling," jude points out, his left hand going all the way up to slightly grab your boob, fingering rolling around the bead feeling it get hard. "i know i just didn't want to waste clothes again since I was-s-s going to s-s-shower after," you stutter gulping the small moan you wanted to let out.

you felt soft and silky, and smelled like vanilla and cherry as jude placed wet kisses all over the nape of your neck, biting and sucking at times. "you're distracting me jude," you whined trying to pull away, "what did you expect? you're wearing my hoodie with nothing underneath angel..."

he grabbed a strawberry, placing it between his lips as you watched his every move. he turned you around, grabbing your face gently with one hand as the other one gripped your ass cheek. his eyes went hooded, observing the way your breathing rapidly changed as he traced the red juice of the sweet fruit all along your top and bottom lip.

jude took a bite placing the half un-eaten piece into your mouth, chewing it softly as he sucked his finger to wipe any extra juice. you looked so torn, licking your lips pondering whether to continue with breakfast or let him take you right then and there. his skin trailed with goosebumps as you dragged your hand all the way up to his throat, gliding it behind his neck.

"you're distracting me," you raised your brow playing with fire growing bold and confident. "and you're making me crazy," jude smugged as he leaned down once again to kiss your jaw, pulse point, and now corners of your lips. "you always drive crazy, whether it's you sitting down and doing work or you wearing my clothes in our home. tell me what did you expect?"

"nothing..." you joke watching him pull back with a "don't play with me" look, "but i do expect you to let me finish breakfast?" you said sweetly, an innocent smile playing at your lips. jude hears you giggling and pleads to put you down as he picks you up and takes you to the couch.

his fingers traced from your sides to between your legs, feeling you already wet as he stroked his fingers around your entrance and throbbing clit. he kissed you profusely, still being able to taste the strawberries on your lips and tongue as they danced together. he gently inserted his fingers into you, your back arching at the sensation. jude smirked, kissing your chin, before sinking his didgets deeper.

"i think i can have my breakfast and workout right now... all at the same time..."

[astralnymphh]

caregiver!ellie is sooo cute but wha about caregiver!reader…

i jus wanna play with her hair n tell her how amazing she is…😞

ughh anon ur in luck cuz I always had the perfect scenario for this in mind. a little tired rn but I'll try, so here we go!! SFW, bit angsty if you squint?? moreso sappy. ✰ . . TLOU UNIVERSE

rust of blood, a scent that churns nostrils and sickens guts. that scent, nested in your nose as you led ellie into the bathroom, embossing crimson prints in each step. damn infected, right? cramming their ridgy fungi bodies through painstakingly set traps– little fuckers weaseled upon your property. nothing to fret about, els was there– as usual– to mow them down to the bone. but everytime, would return a person so done with this bullshit, her own bullshit. gushy assumptions that leave her feeling a tad peeved that she couldn't 'do better for you', when all she gave you was betterness, everyday. it's the little things that tick her off. the little things that sparsely matter to you.

"arms up." you asked, so brittle– so fine. fine on the ears roughened– reddened, scars prevail. with her wearied ass sat atop the baths' edge, you felt nothing waned from nurturing. that beaten freckled face, so preciously relying on you to care for her. ellie draws her arms up, stiller then bark when you tuck and pare her soiled shirt off, plaid pattern muddled by a likeness of bloodshed. you dip down, knees bound to a squat, popping her fly open and rolling the denim up and off her legs. els didn't really utter much. she was really tired, bone–tired. so, with the rest of her clothes messily assorted in a pile at your feet, you arise, guiding her with a shoulder tap. "c'mon–" the clear water welcomes her body, fingertips rubescent as they dig into the white tubs' edge, sinking in slowly. a soft grunt flows from her nose, water rippling as her elbows drift to her flank. you sidle upon a stool beside her, soaked rag in hand, it drips. the drops, they find their way onto els' spent skin of tender bruises. there's a certain breed of kindness that one's hands will pamper along the body of a lover, your hands, her body, a doting kindness. you swipe the rag up her scruff, taking gentle time on the groove where jaw and neck weave in flesh. she reciprocates in pleased buzzes, hums to show an unwaver of contentment. raggy bristles tickle her skin, running along the pistil pores, so smoothly– she just has to let you know, "m'not gonna lie, this is nice." and dreary lids flip to creased ones, uplifted by a fat–cheeked beam. a girl could used to this, after starving of its attention, for so long, years and tears hence. she adds with rasp, an irritated rasp, "fucking stupid of me for not checking the perimeters, m'so dumb, i should've–" she scolds herself, and you scold threefold– kindly, "infected, are fuckin' stupid. not you, babe." it baffles you to even hear her words of self–scorn perk on your ears, you affirm further, "you're so smart for even suggesting the traps in the first place, don't even say that." your available hand skids up her back, knurling knuckles in her pappy wet tuft and pressing a strand to your thumb, "never, say that." you repeat nimbly, lacking tone, pitching in breath. the strand you press, it oozes more drops like a squashed orange, pulping to your mold of it. she smiles wider, and wider, till finally– her teeth held in place. null troubles could sweep those cheeks of dimples. then her lips cleave, and that coral tongue begins to wag again, muttering, "fuck, you're so sweet." then, bowing her head in amusement of her words, she muttered softer than prior, "too sweet." a smile she lifts somehow further, bathwater wets her rosy cheeks– a glisten hardly unnoticed in dim candle blaze.

and what is encouraged beyond those words, is your velvet kiss to her wrist, catching and craning it up to meet your mouth. you sow it, palp it, suckle it, and squeak with a pop, surfing straight into your praise of, "but you're my sweet girl.." moseying the rag down the span of her bicep, mellowly.

"shut up.."

(img from fulltimekardashian on pinterest)

[delopsia]

Almost Ecstasy | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 4,100 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, age gap relationships (but no ages are explicitly mentioned), cunnilingus, first times together, unprotected sex, Rhett's got a filthy mouth, fluff. No plot, just smut. The title means nothing; I couldn't think of one and wound up naming it after the song I was listening to. Brief Summary: You've finally convinced your old cowboy to have sex with you.

There's a particular coziness to Rhett's bed that you can't find anywhere else; warm and inviting, a Wyoming king mattress that damn near swallows you up just from looking at it. But maybe there's more to it. Could it be the collection of plaid blankets snug around your body like a nest? The soft notes of leather from his chaps hanging on the rack, peppered with an indescribable, warm musk that belongs to the cowboy himself? 

Or maybe it's the way he's hovering over you right now. Chapped lips pressing wet kisses to your newly exposed nipple, loving on it until the bud hardens for him to curl his tongue around. The prickly scruff of his unshaven jaw tickling the sensitive skin there. Only serves to remind you of the way it felt against your chin when he kissed your swollen lips. 

Teeth lightly tug on your nipple, his pointed tongue working the very tip of it.

"Rhett!" You gasp, jolting. 

"Zonin' out on me again, sweetheart?" His abuse only stops long enough for him to tilt his head and wrap his lips around the other before it can begin to feel neglected. "Y' sure you're up to this t'night? We can try again—"

"No," fighting to keep yourself from blurting it out. 

Rhett's eyes lift, soft blues scanning your face, the wrinkles beneath them deepening as he squints. Searching for a shred of proof that you're not ready to take this any further. As if you would ever lie to him about something like this. 

"I want this," you whisper, an idle hand rising to curl through the curls resting at his nape. "I promise." 

That seems to get through to him. 

At the very least, it's got him leaning up to meet your parted mouth with a wet kiss, seeming to smile against you. Has only been a minute since he last nibbled on your bottom lip, that big hand stroking the side of your cheek, but it feels akin to the ones shared after days apart. Drawing the weight from your bones and filling your belly with butterflies. 

"Jus' don't wanna push ya, 's all," he murmurs, eyes seeming to smile as he draws away. 

Then he's dipping down once more. Kissing his way down your chest and across your shivering belly, hot tongue leaving a glistening trail in his wake as if he to help lead him back if he gets too lost in exploring your body. Calloused hands sliding down your naked sides, the perfect kind of rough drag to make your eyes flutter. Roaming down, down, down until his fingers can hook in the thin material of your underwear.

On their own, your hips lift. Thighs squeezing together as he draws the fabric past your knees, suddenly shy despite having been seen like this so many times before. Even more so as he eases his briefs off, discarding them somewhere near yours, the sight of his cock hidden by your leg.

The corner of Rhett's lip rises at the sight of you alone, already bending down to kiss the inside of your knee. Making his way up your thigh too fast and too slow, all at the same dizzying time. Long licks punctuated by chaste pecks, then pausing to suck a darkened mark into the flesh there. Has your hand idly tugging at his hair, unsure if you want more or less.

"Shouldn't let myself stay between your legs too long," he croons, thick lashes cascading his firey gaze, "might never leave." 

You don't think you'd mind that, actually. 

But now he's properly parting your legs to get a sight of you, and suddenly, that's the very last thing on your mind. The bedroom air feels too cold against your sex, but Rhett's hot breath melts it away like ice in a blazing fire. 

It's certainly not the first time you've felt his flattened tongue lick a fat stripe up your core, but it sure makes you jump like it is. Thighs already fluttering, trying to squeeze closed around his head. Unsure of how to react as he slowly draws his tongue up you, groaning all the while. 

His attention vanishes for a fleeting moment, "Fuck, 've missed this little pussy." And then he's back, spit-slicked lips wrapping around your rapidly swelling clit, the pointed tip of his tongue teasing it. Has your hips rising off the bed in an instant, chasing the fire of his sinful mouth. Saliva already beginning to pour down your inner thighs, always so fucking sloppy. 

Your head tilts back, pressing into the pillow. "Rhett," gasping for breath, "Rhett." 

The squeezing of your legs only seems to make him grunt, already pleased with his handiwork. "'s that how y' like it?" Talking directly into your cunt, deep words vibrating up your spine and rattling around your skull. "Me rubbin' you right here?" 

Speaking is already a foreign concept. Too focused on the way his skilled tongue massages against you. Has long since memorized the things that makes you tick. How the soft flicks across it make your hips try to rise off the bed, and the way that rolling the little button between his lips will end in your hand yanking on his hair. 

All too quickly, your silence is betraying you because now he's moving. Parting ways with your throbbing clit in favor of working lower. "Or would you rather..." All of a sudden, he's flattening his tongue against your entrance, teasing the rim, "I pay attention to this cute little hole?"

He's waiting for you to respond, but it's hard to when he's already pushing in. That wet, burning muscle opening you up, slowly working in and out of you, feeling the way your pussy tenses around those simple little motions. 

No, no, you can't remember how to talk at all. 

"Or do you want more than jus' my tongue?" Deep down, you know he's only asking it as a way to venture to the next step, but you're half-convinced that he's learned how to read exactly what's on your mind. Seems to know what you want better than you do yourself. 

Dumb, your head nods. "Uhuh."

It's far too easy to catch yourself regretting that because his mouth is leaving as quickly as it appeared. You can't even be upset with him; he needs to see what he's doing as he reaches into the empty expanse of the bed next to you. But his hand doesn't wrap around the newly opened bottle of lube; no, he bypasses it in favor of grabbing a pillow.

"Lift your hips for me, doll," and at his soft-spoken request, your hips rise. Just high enough for him to slip the soft pillow beneath them, propping you at the slightest incline. 

Such a simple addition, yet its effect might as well be drastic. Thighs seeming a little more sensitive as Rhett's rough palm slides between them, his generously lubed finger nearly making you jump when it rubs against your entrance. A teasing pressure you've felt a couple of times before but never seems to lose that overwhelming newness as it gently presses in.

Your lips part with a silent gasp. 

Oh.

"Yeah?" There's a sparkle in Rhett's eye as he looks up at you, the corner of his lip drawn up. Smug.

Taking his finger is easy; a soft glide, punctuated by the rough drag of his rough fingertip against a bundle of nerves that you forgot you had. It's unfair how he knows exactly where it lies. Gingerly testing it by curling his finger into it adds the slightest bit of pressure as he begins to draw it out, then pushes back in once more. 

The second one is already beginning to nudge into you, a delicate appearance that never progresses beyond that. Bumping into your drooling cunt with every shallow thrust of his hand, frustratingly teasing you with the idea of more.

Your foot swings. Smacking into Rhett's naked hip.

But all that does is earn a laugh out of him. "What's that s'posed to mean?" 

"Want more," you grumble, squirming down onto his hand, chasing the light strokes of his finger. 

He doesn't just give you another; he gives you two. The thick digits stretching you wide, calloused knuckles dragging in a delicious sort of way that has your legs trying to close. Trapping his big, warm hand against your core, still pumping in and out of you as much as the confined space will allow.

"There y' go," Rhett's almost cooing, so amused by the way you clench and squirm from his fingers. "Oughta make y' cum just like this."

Your eyebrows knit together, face scrunching as you shake your head back and forth. No, no, that's not what you want at all! You didn't spend all this time convincing him that he isn't going to break you, just for him to up and change his mind.

"No?" Playing coy, his hand stills, no longer giving you the attention you so desperately crave, and for a moment, your head stops spinning. "What, y'wantin' to cum 'round my cock instead?" 

For a split second, two frenzied thoughts slam into one another, sparking a singular sentence that makes its way to your tongue before you can realize what the words are. "Can you even get it up, old man?" There's a bite to it that surprises your own ears. 

And yet, Rhett's grin deepens, reaching for your hand and guiding it between your legs. Pressing your heated palm right against his heavy, leaking cock. "I know 'm older, but I ain't that much older, sugar." 

Your fingers wrap around him, neck straining to get a good look at what you're doing; how small he makes your hand look as it loosely glides up him. Smearing precum across his tip, watching how he seems to glisten in the golden glow of the bedside lamp. You've felt him before, have had him in your mouth, and felt the way he twitches when he cums down your throat, but this is different. 

Slow, he draws his hand away from your cunt, leaving you to clench hopelessly around air. But it's not for nothing. No, he wraps his still-wet fingers around yours, guiding you to hold him a little tighter. Properly stroking him in such a way that he sucks in a sharp breath.

"I sprout a few gray hairs 'n you treat me like I'm geriatric," he chuckles, and he's got a point, but all it does is draw your eyes back to his hair.

Small strands of silver mottled amongst a sea of deep brown, long enough to curl at the nape of his neck but never growing beyond that. A sort of rugged and unkempt that looks unintentional but is maintained with monthly trims by his own hands. Some speckles of gray even glisten in the stubble that seems to permanently cling to his jaw, no matter how frequently he shaves. 

A clean kind of rough. Only adding to the faint wrinkles beneath his eyes, the ones that deepen when he smiles, like right now. 

The tip of his cock bumps at your core. 

And you damn near jump up the bed. 

"Rhett!" 

"Zonin' out on me, again," punctuates the end of his grumbled sentence by smacking himself against your clit, still wet from his mouth and something more, "'n I'd ask if you're still feelin' alright, but I think y' might bite me."

You're not entirely sure how to even begin confessing that you've spent the past sixty seconds marveling over all the ways he's aged. Quite frankly, you don't even know if he would believe your shameless confession of it. 

Without another thought, your arms rise, quietly wrapping around his shoulders, hugging him close. Shrinking that dreadful gap between your bodies until he's forced to brace his body weight with a forearm. Noses bumping, lips ghosting against one another but never quite closing the gap. But it's only for a fleeting second. The next thing you know, he's tilting his head down, watching as he guides his swollen length to your entrance once more. 

The pressure is something you anticipated. 

The sting was not. 

Your hands are scurrying. Clinging to his bicep, to his shoulder, wherever you can find purchase, nails biting into his skin. His cock looks so much bigger now that he's between your legs, splitting you wide as he sinks into your aching cunt. Oh, why did you think this was a good idea?

"Shh, we'll make it fit," it's not until he's shushing you that you realize you've made a noise, pressing a soft kiss into the corner of your mouth. "Jus' try 'n relax for me. Don't wanna hurt you."

You're not entirely sure how to do that. Fighting for control over your own muscles, urging the tension to slip away and let you soften around him. It'll feel good once you get used to him. You know it will. But as your thighs loosen and your attention moves to your strained back, they tense once more. 

A heavy puff of breath hits your cheek. 

Rhett's mouth never moves, but the indescribable warmth collected behind the blue of his eyes says something else entirely. Urges your focus to his slow inhale. The way his chest expands against yours, holding for a moment, then deflating once more. 

A gradual sort of thing that has you mimicking his next breath. The gentle rise of your breasts as your lungs fill with air, how they bump into his warm skin. For a moment, the room is silent, hanging onto your breaths as if you've forgotten how to let them go. Only for it to slip past your lips, warm against Rhett's jaw. 

Sudden pressure appears against a bundle of nerves within your walls, the very ones his fingers were just tormenting minutes ago. 

He's still moving. Disappearing into your body bit by bit, a shiver jumping up your spine as he fills you. A dull throb replacing the initial sting, growing into a fire that has you clutching at Rhett's biceps for an entirely different reason. Following the quiet guide of his chest, breaths intermingling in a dance of their own making, 

"So fuckin' tight for me," he's hissing through a gasp, forehead wrinkling as his eyes squeeze shut, "shit."

And it shouldn't make you flutter around him the way you do, sent into a frenzy from his words alone. An involuntary massage that makes Rhett's eyes flutter open and closed, letting go of his cock, in favor of bracing himself next to your head, fully bracketing you between those thick forearms. 

You're trying to speak. Sorting for what you want to say, but it's so hard to think when his heavy balls bump against your ass, hips coming flush with your skin. Heavy cock pushing the air from your strained lungs and past your lips. So, so full.

"There y' go," he's prying his eyes open just long enough to get a look at the obscenity between your legs. Where he splits you wide open, still glistening with the handiwork of his mouth and the lube. "God." 

A whimper boils out of your throat, knees knocking into Rhett's bony hips as your legs squeeze around him. Drawing him impossibly close, as if you could ever hope to take another centimeter of him.

"Rhett..." it seems to be the only thing your drooling tongue can produce, your unfocused gaze staring back up at him, can't seem to bring yourself to focus on a particular feature of him. Perfect in every way you can twist the word.

His head dips down, weight shifting to unintentionally push himself deeper into your cunt, careful lips catching yours. A soft, fleeting interlocking of lips, far too chaste for what's going on below. "'s that feel good, sweetheart?" 

You're nodding dumbly, "Uhuh."

God, you should have done this sooner. Already drowning in the way he fills you, the warmth of his body pressed snug against yours.

Oh.

He's already drawing out of you. Slow as can be, hardly pulling out by an inch before sinking back into your throbbing cunt, lubricant squelching sickeningly loud for such a delicate movement. Air catches in your throat, palms squeezing his biceps a little tighter as he does it again.

Rhett's mouth finds its way to the meet of your jaw, sucking lightly on the skin there. "Think 'm almost too big for your lil pussy, angel," he mutters, so close to your ear that his words tickle. 

You don't understand how he even fits. Bulging tip dragging against your walls. Has you hugging him so tight that you reckon you can feel the fat vein that runs along the upperside of him. Your palms slide up his biceps, splaying out against the hard bone of his shoulder blades, covered in thick muscle that ripples under your touch. Strong from close to two years of bull riding, mottled by a raised surgery scar from an injury of the past. The futile attempt to fix the shoulder he tore up shortly after telling his father he was leaving. 

Oh, what you would give to have been there for him.

But you're here now, at least. Legs hitching over his hips, ankles resting against the swell of his ass, clinging as if he could possibly, ever peel himself away from you. Like his chest isn't bumping against yours as he gently fucks into you, slow ins and outs that make your head spin. So big. He's so big.  

"Y' like bein' stretched 'round my cock like that?" Speaking against your skin, punctuating his question with a surprising jerk of his hips, yanking the breath right out of your throat. "Bein' awful quiet." 

But he's not giving you much chance to keep that up, leaning back onto his haunches, hands sliding down to settle on either side of your hips. Gripping them tight, drawing you in to meet the thrust of his hips. 

"Ah!" A cry bursts right out of your chest, so sudden that you hardly recognize it was you who made it. Your cunt involuntarily clamps down around him, breaking his rhythm, has those pretty blue eyes rolling to the tune of a surprisingly pitchy whine. 

"There y' go," he hisses, mouth absolutely filthy, yet unable to cover up for the soft noises being carried off his breath, "'s that what y've been wantin'? Some ol' cowboy to fuck y' nice 'n slow?" 

It's all you can do to tilt yourself into him, back arching against the pillow wedged beneath you. He's rubbing right where you want him, but its not enough; it's still not enough. "Rhett," you choke, between a poorly muzzled whimper, "more."

"More?" Those eyebrows are raising, in perfect tune with his growing grin; you're never gonna hear the end of this. "Y' gonna have to be a lil' more specific than that." 

You don't even know what you want, a trembling hand diving to grab hold of the bed sheet, rocking against him the best you can manage. Ears ringing with the lewd clap of his skin against yours, some hellish rhythm that has your heart slamming against your chest like a caged animal. 

"Did y' want it faster?" His hips are quickening, pistoning in and out of you with such vigor that you think your eyes may have crossed, a breathy noise whittling out of your throat. But just as quickly as he started, Rhett slows again, grip on your hips growing so tight you fear it'll bruise, yanking you down to meet him halfway, "harder?"

It punches a squeal right out of you. So loud that your hand clamps over your mouth; the nearest neighbor is a mile down the road, and even then, you're certain they could have heard you. Know exactly what you're doing with this old bull rider that you were warned to stay away from, tangled up in his sheets, with him between your legs, right where he belongs. 

Maybe it's your rose-tinted view of him that's talking; maybe it's something more; all you know is he's taking hold of your wrist and prying your hand away from your mouth. Guiding it down your belly and between your shaking legs, pressing your fingers to your forgotten clit. And again, you're clenching around him, pulling a surprised moan from him. 

"Gonna have this poor little pussy of yours rurnt," his voice growing airy, unruly hair falling into his face as he leans down, eye to eye with you, never once stops talking,"not gonna be satisfied with nothin' else once 'm done with ya."

You had no hope of being happy with anyone else the moment your eyes locked at that rodeo, but that's neither here nor there. All you know is that your fingers are quickening against your clit, and Rhett's growing louder. Can't seem to keep himself quiet; blunt cock head hammering against your delicate nerves, has you fluttering around him in such a way that you both mewl with it. 

His body drops back down, almost smothering you as his head buries into the crook of your neck. "Feel so fuckin' good 'round me—ah!"  

There's a heat growing in your lower belly. A coil rapidly unraveling into a full-body tremor, skin prickling as that heat spreads up your chest and down your thighs until you're burning. Becoming distantly aware of the low voice that chants your name into your ear, bouncing around the inside of your skull until your vision fuzzies.

"Rhett," babbling, damn near incoherent, "Rhett, I'm—"

"So am I," he blurts. And for a second he's prying himself away from you, but your ankles have locked behind him. Refusing to let him draw away from you. Only seeming to pull him in deeper. Hitting something he wasn't before. "Fuck, y' gotta—y' gotta let me pull outta ya."

But you're shaking your head. Unoccupied hand grabbing hold of his bicep. Squeezing as tightly as you can manage. "Stay."

And that is it. Rhett's breath is catching. Hips stuttering as he cums inside of you with a weak cry. Twitching cock bumping against that little bundle of nerves. Your fingers working faster over your clit. Until all of a sudden, your back is arching off the pillow. Cumming around him without warning. 

It's like being plunged underwater. Vision blurry, lungs tight, the noises around you muffling until its a far cry of what it once was. A warm wave washes over you, little bolts of electricity firing down your frenzied nerves. And you're floating, spinning around in an endless depth of something heavy. 

Until your lungs fill with air, and you realize that heaviness is Rhett. His careful mouth kissing at your collar, sweaty hands stroking up and down your naked chest. Sprawled out on top of you like a big ol' blanket.

"There y' are," he murmurs, and for a second, his love-filled eyes almost look like hearts, "thought I knocked ya out, for a second there."

The corner of your lip tilts upward, the best your dreamy mind can manage, "nah."

His eyes roll in that contagious fashion that has you tempted to mirror him. But he's already leaning up to meet your lips before you can begin to try, catching your mouth in a wet, half-hearted attempt at a kiss. 

"Think I finally tuckered ya out," there's no reason for him to be whispering; nobody is around to hear him, and yet, he does it anyway. Like it's some delicate confession that may lose its worth if he says it any louder.

But your defiant hips are already shifting, rolling off the pillow and up against his softened cock, still deep inside of you. Earns you an oversensitive hiss. "I think I could go one more round."

"Well, hang on a damn second," Rhett's shaking his head as he pushes himself up onto his weary forearms, incredulous. Doesn't seem to believe what he's hearing. "I can't get it back up as fast as I used to."

"Why not?" Coy. 

He sighs. Loud. Dramatic. He knows what you're doing, you know what you're doing, and yet neither of you is doing anything about it. "'m old."

Your head cocks to the side. "I thought you didn't like being called old?"

For a second, it's quiet. Neither of you has anything to say as his arm curls beneath your waist. Cinching you up against him as if you're bound to start floating away at any second.

 What's he doing?  

"Fine." 

The room is spinning. 

You're moving. 

Arms flailing, almost slamming your palms against his chest. And now he's beneath you, half-lidded eyes a smidgen darker than they were before, torn between exhaustion and something that reignites the fire in your belly. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, fully settling in his lap now. 

"Do your worst," he taunts, smug. Knows exactly what he's done here. 

Oh, you will. 

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day three.

Menace to Society

Prompt: Brat/Wet/Choking | Word Count: 2556 | Rating: E | CW: Gagging | Tags: Established Relationship, Teasing, Taunting, Bratty Sub Eddie, A Bit of Orgasm Denial, Choking (on Cock), Light Biting, Light Spanking, Rimming, Unprotected Sex

He's a nuisance. A little shithead. A menace to society and Steve's life, as a whole. 

And Steve wouldn't have it any other way. 

Eddie is dripping water all over the hardwood floors of the bedroom as he stands in front of the closet, totally naked. His wet hair is dripping down his back, and he has to be freezing cold. The fan is whirring overhead, the window AC blowing full blast. But Steve just watches, waiting to see how long the little brat can hold out. 

He's pretty sure Eddie didn't even attempt to ghost a towel over himself, let alone dry off. 

Flicking through the shirts, Eddie's acting like he's never seen any of them before. Like, this is a brand new wardrobe and not his same old, ratty ass clothes that he refuses to replace, like, ever.

Steve waits. And Eddie stalls. 

He finally selects a plain black shirt, and pulls it over his head and slides on a pair of red plaid boxers. They're both clinging to his wet skin, and it can't be comfortable. But Steve says nothing, not even when Eddie slides into bed, his cold, wet hair soaking into the pillow, not even when he slides right up against Steve, pushing his face into Steve's neck. 

This cold, wet, rat of a man. 

And he's all Steve's. 

"You're a little brat," Steve says, and he can feel Eddie's smile against his skin, pressed against his pulse point. He's sure it's hammering away, giving away that he's not exactly as unaffected as he hopes he seems.

"And what are you gonna do about that?" Eddie asks, licking a wet stripe towards Steve's ear. 

"If you want something from me, all you have to do is ask." 

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie questions, and Steve laughs. He's not sure how he's the boss here, he doesn't feel like he's the boss of anything that happens in their house. 

Long, long ago he was yanked off his feet by the living, breathing tornado that shares his bed. And he knew he could either ride out the storm, or take cover.

And he'll ride out the storm, always.

Eddie leans in and bites him hard on the neck, and it's his cue to act. He knows it, so he manhandles Eddie off him, and over onto his knees, until he's draped over his lap and draws back his hand and smacks Eddie on the ass. Once, twice, three times, a little harder with each blow.

Eddie just laughs. 

"Tickles," Eddie mumbles into the pillow. 

So, Steve strikes him again. Harder.

Then yanks on the damp boxers, wrestling them off Eddie, and pushing his t-shirt up his back. 

And Steve finds that Eddie has clearly worked himself open in the shower, despite knowing how much Steve likes to do it himself. 

"You disobeyed me," Steve says, spanking him again, then pressing his thumb against Eddie's stretched hole. 

"Well, if you'd be a little more competent at the job," Eddie says, and Steve grips his hip. 

"Hey," Steve says, firm, unyielding. It's effective, and the tone is all Eddie needs to change directions and back off. To mind. Steve's made it clear he doesn't like to be degraded or shamed, doesn't like to feel like he's bad at things, like he's bullshit, and Eddie knows better, even if he's being a fucking brat right now.

"Too far, sorry," Eddie says, and he reaches back to pet Steve's hand. 

"That's what I thought," Steve says, dumping Eddie onto the bed, moving to stand in front of Eddie. He tugs down his own underwear, just over his ass and palms his dick. 

Then he crooks his finger at Eddie, beckoning him closer.

"On your knees. Hands behind your back." 

Eddie whines, "But I'm ready…"

"And you'll still be ready when I am," Steve says firmly, pointing at the floor, "on your knees."

Eddie slides off the bed, and does as he's been told, but has a bitchy look on his face the entire time. It's a big job, but Steve will try to fix that attitude, so he grabs Eddie's cheeks between his fingers, pinching, forcing him to open up his mouth. Demanding that he lowers his jaw. 

He does, and Steve pats him on the cheek, softly, "That's my good boy. So docile, so giving, such a soft boy."

Steve's paying him back, even if Steve knows him well enough to know this won't rile him. Eddie wants to submit, even if he isn't exactly docile. Isn't soft. And doesn't want to be. 

When he lets go, Eddie is still sitting there, his mouth open. Waiting. Waiting. Eyes hooded.

Steve palms his own dick, stroking the length of himself, right at Eddie's eye level. Making him watch. 

Eddie sticks out his tongue, and Steve grins at him, can't help it, but still tells him, "You're a goddamn brat." 

And Eddie clamps his mouth shut, defiant. 

Loving Eddie, is living with constant consented to chaos.

Steve does nothing, just keeps stroking his own cock, lazily. Nothing works better on Eddie's bratty bad attitude than simply ignoring him. Lack of attention, that's what gets him to shape up.

So, Steve fists his own dick, and closes his eyes, tilting his head back. Long, smooth strokes, showing that he can please himself. That he doesn't need Eddie. That he can do this without any of his input.

Steve knows the silence won't last, can't. Eddie'll get jealous of Steve's own hand. He'll get too impatient. Steve's not wrong.

"Well, are you gonna do anything about it?" Eddie snaps.

Steve grins, wicked, opening his eyes as he leans down to get closer to Eddie's face.

"Of course I am. I was just waiting to see how big of a hole you were planning on digging for yourself, first."

Eddie's jaw drops back down, mouth open and pliant. Willing and waiting. Not wanting to be left out.

And that's more like it.

Steve rewards him for it by sliding the head of his cock against Eddie's bottom lip, then the tip of his tongue, before sliding in, in, in. Bumping the back of Eddie's throat. 

Eddie gags, he always does, and Steve's instinct is still to pull out. Even after all this time. Even after Eddie has told him not to, again and again. And Eddie must know that, must feel it happening, Steve withdrawing, so Eddie disobeys the order he was given and takes one hand out from behind his back, grabbing a handful of Steve's ass, pulling him in even further into his mouth. 

His cock sliding into Eddie's throat deeper than before, gagging him even worse.

Steve buries his hand in Eddie's hair, close to the scalp, and pulls him backwards. Off his dick completely. And Eddie makes a choked noise at the loss, but lets go of Steve's ass, and puts his hand back behind his back where it belongs. But he looks up at Steve with wet, betrayed eyes.

Steve brushes his thumb against Eddie's forehead, and Eddie nods. Just ever so slightly. 

He's okay, just pouting. 

"Do I need to hog-tie you and set you in cement? Or can you behave for once in your goddamn life?" Steve asks, and Eddie offers up his wrists, more belligerence than an actual offering, and Steve ignores him. "Behind. Your. Back," Steve repeats slowly, and Eddie puts them back where they belong.

Eddie nods, lowering his eyes, finally submitting.

So, Steve presses back in. Pressing, pushing until Eddie's eyes are watering more. Big and shining with unshed tears, but locked in on Steve's. Unwavering. 

Begging him, silently. 

Pupils blown wide, as he's getting lost in the scene, and it's a look Steve adores to get out of him.

So, Steve gives him what he wants, and bottoms out, choking him. He holds his cock in Eddie's throat for a few breaths. 

Then pulls out. Eddie gasps for air, just for a second, then opens his mouth for more. 

Steve gives him more. Over and over, until he's ready to torment Eddie further. Or, well, until Eddie's ready to be tormented further, seems more accurate. Steve's in charge, but this is always, will always, be about Eddie and his wants. His needs.

How they get there will be in Steve's hands, but the end game has always been clear to Steve. Make Eddie happy, even if he has to torture that happiness out of him, inch by inch, squeeze by squeeze.

"I'm gonna come," Steve tells him, "right down your throat."

Eddie whines, and attempts to shake his head no.

"Are you telling me no? Are you the boss of me?" 

Eddie whines again, shaking his head.

"All that work, and for what? Nothing," Steve says. "What'd you use? Your fingers? A toy? Hidden away, stretching yourself open, unable to wait for me to take care of you."

Eddie can't answer, not with Steve's cock in his throat. 

"Yeah, like that," Steve says, and then grips the back of Eddie's head. 

Eddie whines.

"Here it comes," Steve tells him, and presses as far in as he can. Eddie's nose is buried in his pubes, taking it. 

He doesn't come, never planned to, but he jerks his hips and groans like he has, and when he pulls out, Eddie swallows like he did. Giving him the big, sad doe eyes as he does it. Really laying on the patheticness.

Steve tucks his still hard dick back into his underwear, like this over. Because Eddie likes that. Likes to feel denied. Even as he whines, and kicks up a fuss, he is getting off on it. Steve knows he is. 

So, Steve crawls in bed, and Eddie follows. Steve lays his head back on his cold, wet pillow and sighs, like he's settling in for the night. 

And Eddie curls up right next to him, settling against his body. 

Steve reaches up and pets Eddie's hair, leaning over to kiss him on the head. 

"You're perfect," Steve says. 

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "I know." 

Steve laughs. 

And Eddie grins. 

"You gonna be good for me a little bit longer?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods, adamant.

Eddie is bent over on his knees, and Steve is caressing his skin. Worshiping him. Everything about him. 

Before Eddie, before this life he loves, Steve hadn't thought about being in charge in a long time, his king's crown long thrown away with flourish and good fucking riddance. But Eddie wants Steve to drive. Even when he's being a little brat. He's still begging for Steve to take charge. To lay a firm hand against his body, guiding him. 

Steve never used to feel comfortable being in control of anything, not really, not even in his King Steve days. But he's learned to enjoy it, to do this with Eddie. Would do anything for Eddie.

He's slicked up his dick, and made sure Eddie is actually ready, and he is, before pressing inside. 

Eddie makes the most beautiful sound Steve's ever heard. A happy whine, and Steve thinks he's done good. Done right by Eddie. 

And that's all he ever wants to do. 

Make him happy. No matter what that entails. 

Even that comes from making him suffer, just a little bit, first.

"Don't you even think about coming before me," Steve demands, and Eddie whines about that, too.

Steve presses his fingers into Eddie's hips as he fucks him, and Eddie is finally behaving now that he's gotten exactly what he wanted. Head hung low, relaxed in his total submission.

That won't do. Not at all.

"What? Nothing to say now? No running commentary?" Steve goads.

Eddie says nothing, and Steve's not sure he can right now.

But he squeezes down on Steve's dick, and it makes Steve smile. He rubs his hip bone, thumbing the sharp point of it. 

"C'mon, it's the closest thing I get to hearing a sports play-by-play these days." 

Eddie scoffs, and Steve is baiting him. He watches sports all the time, much to Eddie's pissing and moaning. 

"This is entrapment, Harrington," Eddie finally breathes out. 

It is. It definitely is.

"I think you like it when I'm bratty," Eddie adds, his forehead resting against the mattress, his voice a little muffled.

Steve smiles, where Eddie can't see, "Lies." 

He feels so good, open and slick, and Steve fucks him with long, hard strokes. Well practiced, after so many years together. Eddie's so fucking wet, he must have used an overabundance of lube.

Steve shifts his hips, changing his angle, and works over Eddie's prostate. Over and over, with precision, trying to shove Eddie to the precipice without toppling him over it. He wants Eddie to feel like he's gonna fail, but not actually fail. 

Eddie whines, hanging his head, loose and limp. Finally, completely pliant. Trusting Steve.

And Steve keeps him there, dangling on the edge. Brushing past his prostate on every third stroke, then every fifth, every tenth. Backing off as he reads Eddie's body language. Eddie's loose, basically melted, but Steve can still tell. Can still read him like an open book. He knows everything there is to know about Eddie Munson.

It's the hardest he's ever studied in his whole life.

And Steve knows that Eddie's gonna come, soon.

So, Steve lets go of his own control, and shoves right into Eddie's prostate one more time, dick jerking as he empties himself into Eddie and Eddie whines, coming untouched all over the sheets below.

After Steve, as directed, like a good fucking boy.

Steve pulls out, and slaps him on the ass one more time, but this time in a good game sort of way, and Eddie laughs, wet and amused. 

"I have no bones, my bones have gone," Eddie says, collapsing to the sheets, laying in his own wet spot and not giving a flying fuck. 

Steve will just have to clean him up. Take care of him. So, Steve rubs his back, and then presses his thumb against Eddie hole. Loose and wet, so fucking wet.

Steve leans down and runs his tongue over it, flat and soothing, and Eddie sighs, content, "That feels good."

Steve rubs his hand on Eddie's ass cheek, and Eddie tries to spread his legs further, as Steve presses his tongue to him, over and over, cleaning him up, soothing him. 

And then Eddie is finally quiet, finally still. Because he's fallen asleep.

Steve will have to move him, have to clean up the bed, but for now, he just rests his cheek against Eddie's bare side, throwing his arm over Eddie's damp thighs, now wet with sweat instead of water from the shower, and closes his eyes.

And smiles.

Steve does like it. The brattiness. Lives for it, honestly. Longs for that spark in Eddie's eyes, asking, begging, pleading, trusting Steve to do something about it. Trusting Steve to do so many things that Eddie will love, even if he pretends he doesn't, the whole goddamn way.

That is, until Eddie is finally settled and still, satisfied, just like he is in this very moment. Lightly snoring, a sound that is music to Steve's ears. Background noise that means he's home.

And Steve presses his lips to Eddie's skin, loving on him a little bit more.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @subeddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Two Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

I LOVE GARETH (he's so adorable)

How about the reader goes over to his house and he isn't there so they wait in his room for him. When he gets back, he sees the reader wearing his plaid jacket asleep in his bed...

A/N- This was so cute 🥹 i know i’m not taking fic requests rn but this was too fun to not want to make a fic out of 😍

Cozy

Genre-Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @aidansloth @esme-viridian @toomanyfandomsimfanvergent

(tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🖤)

Word Count- 2.6k

You sighed and tapped your foot as you waited at his door, checking the watch on your wrist again just to see how long it’s been since you last rang the doorbell.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to show up at Gareths place unannounced, it happened a lot more frequently than some may think. After living next door to each other all your lives you knew you were both welcome in each others homes whenever you liked. But for some reason this had been the only time where no one was home.

He knew you were coming over at this time. Hell, he’s the one that invited you over, so it was strange for him not to be there.

His car was still in the driveway, and after taking a quick peek into the garage you saw that his parents cars were no where to be found. Probably out with his sisters.

You groaned and rang the doorbell again, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to look down either end of the street, just checking to see if he had maybe gotten a ride from someone else. You knew he wouldn’t forget. He never did.

Every single time you came over, without a doubt you knew he would be fully prepared to see you. Whatever it was the two of you had planned, he always had some extras to keep you around longer.

Watching a new movie together? He would grab an extra one for the two of you to watch just in case you wanted to.

Listening to a new tape he got? It just so happens that he’s got a few new tapes, and you’re always down for a chill night.

Checking out a new spot in town? He just so happens to know about a few other local places for the two of you to go together.

He always loved spending time with you, and of course you loved spending time with him too.

With one final groan and a roll of the eyes, you were done with waiting. You walked over to the decorative plants on the porch and moved them aside, picking up the house key you knew they kept stored under there and using it to let yourself right in.

“Gare?!” You shouted out, hoping he had just been asleep in his room or occupied in the basement.

You slipped your shoes off at the door and shrugged when the only response you got was silence. Oh, well. He would be back any minute from wherever he was, you were sure of it.

As you climbed up the stairs you looked at all the family pictures plastered on the wall on the way up. Old school portraits, framed family drawings, a few professional shots of the whole family taken when Macy was still just a baby. At the very top step was your favorite.

One of the very first pictures of you and Gareth ever taken.

No more than maybe five or six years old, the both of you smiling with dirt and grass stains all over your clothes, each of you holding a little green frog in your hands. You remember how slimy they were. A quiet giggle left your lips seeing his adorable gap toothed smile. He lost two of his teeth that year. He was such a cute kid.

You finished your slow walk up the stairs and passed the other doors down to Gareths room, and surprisingly the door was still closed.

“Gare?” You said from behind the door, hoping he had just fallen asleep. After a moment of silence you shrugged and turned the handle, struggling to open his bedroom door.

You groaned as you shoved the door open with your shoulder, sneaking through the small space you managed to make between the door and the wall. His room was messier than you’ve ever seen it.

Clothes all over the floor, his bed was unmade and the blanket was tossed about and laying half on the floor, VHS tapes were littered in front of the TV and a few magazines were fallen over and spilling out of the box he kept under his bed. Boys were so gross.

You shut the door once more and kicked the piles of clothes around, trying to make yourself a clear path on his floor. There was no way he was planning on having you over with his room in this state, maybe he just lost track of time with whatever it was he was doing?

Either way, there was no way you were going to wait for him in this filth.

You started grabbing up piles of clothes in your arms and burying them into his hamper, making a little bit of space on his floor for you to walk around. You were able to make your way over to his stereo and looked through his tapes, searching for one to put on for some background noise while you picked up his mess. You smiled as you saw he was listening to one of the tapes you made for him and pressed rewind to start it over, pushing the play button and turning up the volume a bit.

No one would mind if no one was home.

You didn’t deep clean his room, you barely deep cleaned your own room at home, but just enough to where it wasn’t a pig sty. You didn’t know how he could function in a mess like this.

It was exhausting.

You had no idea how long it had been since you started putting away his tapes and laundry, but you eventually found your way over to cleaning off his bed, picking up a few shirts and tossing them towards the hamper like you had done with all the rest on his floor. You stopped when your hand felt the familiar flannel fabric under his blanket.

A smile spread across your lips when you pulled his vest out from under the blanket, a little wrinkled but otherwise in perfect condition. If he left it here that must mean he ran off the night before in a hurry to get to Eddie’s for a last minute sesh. He always overslept on those nights. As much as it needed a good wash, you saw nothing wrong with it.

A few wrinkles here and there, but no stains or tears, and it seemed to smell fine, thank god.

You had never once seen him without it within the last few months, it was almost like a security blanket for him. How was he possibly managing without it?

You went to go toss it into the hamper along with the other clothes, but as you saw it in your hand in your reflection of his standing mirror, you wondered what the big deal was.

He was obsessed with always keeping it in perfect condition, making sure nothing was out of place and every patch and pin on it had been in its spot for a reason.

You looked at it in your hands for a moment and glanced up at the mirror, taking a step towards it. How great could this vest really be?

You put your arms through the sleeves and adjusted it onto your body, smiling seeing it was a few sizes too big on your frame. It was comfortable, it was warm, and the fabric was so soft.

You took a deep breath, ready to pull it off of your body and toss it into the hamper, but there was something stopping you.

It felt so cozy, and though his room wasn’t freezing it was keeping you nice and warm. The fact that it smelled like him didn’t help much either. You were never able to notice how nice it was until now.

The mixture of his cologne on the front and the scent of his shampoo on the collar, mixed with his natural pheromones it was something so strange to you. Refreshing. Like a wave of calm washed over your body. It’s like he was there with you now, and you smiled at yourself in the mirror remembering his laugh.

You looked down at the red flannel on you, moving your hands up the seams and bringing in the collar to take a deep inhale. You missed him.

You lived next door to him all your life, and whenever he wasn’t there you missed him. Even now, standing in his bedroom that you’ve been in hundreds of times before, wearing the same vest you’ve seen him in for days on end, you were missing him. Hopefully he’d be home soon.

Another glance around his room from the reflection in the mirror made you remember the stereo. The tape you had playing had stopped at some point and you didn’t even notice. You went back to the stereo and flipped the tape to play the other side, sighing as you turned down the volume. It was now a comfortable background noise, and with the combination of his warm vest and the soft music, his bed was looking so much more comfortable than it ever had before…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m going to fucking murder you if you ever make me this late back to my own house ever again.” Gareth said to Eddie from the passenger seat of his van, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Easy,” Eddie replied back with a chuckle, “it’s only been an hour, you’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be fine!” Gareth shouted, “I told you i had this planned and i’ve never been this late to something, (y/n) might think i was kidnapped or something, my car is still in the driveway and no one else is home, my room is a fucking mess and i don’t want to come home and find police cars all over the place-“

“Calm down.” Eddie said to him sternly. He’d never seen Gareth so overwhelmed. “It’s no big deal, i’ll tell her it was my fault you were late. I’m fine with her thinking i’m the bad guy.”

Gareth rolled his eyes and looked out the window of the van, hoping they’d be home soon.

What was supposed to be another last minute band practice turned into an overnighter for him and the rest of the guys at Eddie’s place. Smoking, watching movies, listening to music, all the same stuff they’d normally do. Unfortunately, they managed to stay up until at least four in the morning and lost track of time when they went out for ‘breakfast’ at noon.

Gareth was supposed to be at his place nearly an hour ago and he was so upset with himself for being late. He just hoped you weren’t upset with him too.

He hated making you upset, all he wanted to do was be able to spend time with you and have fun with you, other than being with the guys it was his absolute favorite pastime.

You had always been so sweet and kind to him, you would play together as kids and were nearly joined at the hip every summer, and as the years went on he figured that every guy got the same feelings about their girl friends.

Every guy started wishing that their girl friends always held their hand whenever they walked together.

Every guy wanted to be able to comfort their girl friends and hold them close during all the scariest parts of horror movies.

Every guy would make countless amounts of mixtapes of all the songs that reminded them of their girl friends.

Every guy got jealous when their girl friends would go out on dates or get asked to dances by other guys.

Every guy would lay in bed every night just wishing their their girl friends could be laying beside them to snuggle and keep warm.

God, he could feel his palms get sweaty just thinking about you.

He quickly wiped them on his jeans, doing his best to get you off of his mind and get back to the matter at hand. He was trying his best to think of an excuse to give you as to why he was late but he knew you wouldn’t believe anything he told you. You knew him too well.

The best thing to do was to just deal with whatever you had coming to him.

Eddie quickly turned the corner and Gareth perked up as soon as he saw his house, getting himself ready to nearly jump out of Eddie’s van as he pulled up on the curb.

“I’ll tell her what happened, don’t worry about sticking around.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

“You sure?” Eddie called out after him, shrugging as he watched Gareth run up his front yard to his door, fumbling with the keys in his pocket as he put one into the lock and stepped inside.

Gareth shut the front door behind him, looking around the living room and kitchen for any sign of you. He knew his parents were taking his sisters over to their friends for a playdate, giving the two of you free rein of the house for almost the entire day. He was just hoping he had enough time to clean a little before rushing over to your place and apologizing like his life depended on it.

He quickly ran up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, and noticed that the door was slightly cracked open, he could hear one of his tapes being played from behind it.

He slowly opened his bedroom door, knowing that it had been completely closed when he left and stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

The lower half of your body was covered by his comforter, your top half was covered by his vest to keep you warm, your head resting peacefully on his pillow as the music played softly in the background. He looked around his room and saw that you had been nice enough to pick up a little for him, and he smiled as he quietly stepped inside. He made sure to be careful as the door creaked while he shut it, carefully stepping around on his hardwood floor in order not to wake you.

As strange as it was, all he could do was look at you.

You looked so serene, so peaceful. You used to have sleepovers when you were little but since the time has passed, you figured you were just too old for it. Not to mention your parents finding it inappropriate for two teenagers to be having sleepovers when they see each other constantly. But still, it was nice to see you like this again.

He could remember bits and pieces of your sleepovers when you were little but he always remembered how nice it was when you were sleeping. He always thought you looked beautiful, even when you were kids.

Gareth slowly walked over to the other side of the bed, carefully climbing in next to you and moving his body close to yours. He snuggled in, his arm carefully wrapping around your torso as the other pulled his comforter over your bodies. A smile slowly crept across his lips as he felt you gently back into him.

He held you close, keeping you warm beneath the blankets as he slowly closed his eyes.

You were never really able to relax like this.

Every time you saw each other there was always something planned, life gets in the way sometimes and it’s difficult to be able to enjoy doing nothing with someone you don’t see as often as you would like. And Gareth knows that too.

As much as he would love to be able to sit and talk with you, spend time with you, share fun memories with you, things like this were just as important.

He smiled when he felt your hand move over his as he held you.

Nothing was more important than this.

[mydearesthrry]

Cloud Watching — H.S.

another oneeeee haiiiiii. ps, just wanted to mention that my requests are ALWAYS open. ok bye enjoy!! <3

🎀 warnings/cw: none, inappropriate clouds? idk, kissing, FLUFFFF

🐇 pairing: bf!harry x fem!reader

💐 wc: 400!!!!!! teeeeeny tiny blurb

summary: cloud watching in a flowery field with bf!h <3

The soft breeze flowed over you and Harry, a soft scrunch forming on your nose from the cold tickle. Laying on a plaid blanket, the two of you stared up at the sky, Harry’s hand entwined in your hair as your head rested on his chest. A couple of feet from you laid a speaker on top of your closed picnic basket, softly playing Bobby Darin’s You’ll Never Know. Soft hums emitted from his throat, chest vibrating under your head.

“Look, that one kinda looks like a turtle,” You point at the sky, a cloud floating slowly in the air.

“Oh, y’right! And look over there, that one looks like a dolphin,” You follow Harry’s hand as he points to a different section of the sky, nodding in agreement at his words. “‘S cute.”

You sit up from your position, moving over to be level with Harry. He looks over at you, opening his left arm to cushion your head. You lie down, curling into his side and resting your hand on his chest, engagement ring glistening in the sun. Moving your gaze back up to the sky, you giggle a little, before moving your hand up to draw what you were looking at.

Harry watches your hand in confusion, watching you draw a stick with two circles on the bottom. “Wha’ are y’drawing? A pogo stick?”

You snort, shaking your head while giggling. “No y’lump,” Pausing for dramatic effect, you trace it again. “It’s a dick.”

Harry let out a loud cackle, sitting up and knocking you over, hunching over and clutching his belly as he roared with laughter.

“What?! How d’you even see that! Oh my, y’too much f’me, m’love.” He wipes his eyes with his fingertips, pulling you into his lap, chest still shaking with laughter.

“I dunno! Don’t ask me!” You laugh loudly too, purely just laughing at his chortles. Twisting your head around to meet his face, you smile and let your eyes trace his features. His small bunny teeth, deep dimples popping out in his cheeks, and his green eyes that looked even brighter in the sun, if that was even possible. “I love you.”

“My sweet love,” he pulls you closer to him, pressing soft kisses wherever he can reach, “I love you, so, so, so much.” Placing a kiss on your face with each word.

“I’m so lucky.”

[pandorasfavorite]

I am a fellow stoner! Can I have Dominik Mysterio x reader where they are high as hell and the judgement day finds them just laughing on the floor while watching Cheech and Chong? I love you my lovely! 🥺

Full turn

Part two

Dominik was raised to be polite and patient, he inherits great traits from Rey when though he’s not happy about it. Dominik was pushed away from non acceptable things such as alcohol, violence, and drugs. During his heel turn he decided to be much more rebellious and live life a different way. With his girlfriend of 4 months (who was previously apart of the judgment day), he indulged in his “dangerous” fantasies.

Me —- Hey, do you wanna come over?

Dom Dom — for what 😏?

Me —- nevermind 🙄

Dom Dom — no no I’m on the way.

Me —- Okay 🫣

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two knocks make sound on the WWE owned hotel door and I rush to it, more than ready to see my boyfriend. Im in a tanktop and plaid pajama pants smiling right back at my boyfriend also in a tanktop but with gray joggers. I smile at him a moment longer before moving from the door way to let him through. He sits on the edge of the bed watching me lock the door and move to the other side of my room to the night stand.

I pull out the joint and I lick the edge from where it unrolled just a little and I look at Dom with a eyebrow raised in question. He taps his fingers on the bed as a nervous tick before rushing out his response, “baby, Im not sure”. I nod and walk to sit beside him, joint still in the palm of my left hand. I hold Dom’s hand with my right hand while I look at him with promise. “I will never make you do something you don’t want to, but I know you’ve been considering it”, I express rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb.

He looks down at our conjoined hands before throwing his head back dramatically, “Okay let’s do it”. I squeal in delight before hopping up and running back to the night stand to grab my lighter. Once sitting beside him I explain how he should inhale and hold to get the whole effect then I light up and show him. I see the reflection of the burning joint in his eyes and the smile gracing his face as I pull away and pass it to him. He repeats my actions but not before coughing it all out and doubling over. Dom is having a major coughing fit and his hair is covering his face completely as he turns red. His cough last longer than usual and after the shot giggle stops I pat his back soothing him, “alright let it all out” he groans dramatically before sitting back up. I pluck the joint from his hands taking another hit, smiling at what happened just moments before. I hand Dom the joint back and tell him to try again and to not take such a heavy hit.

He complies and I hand him a water bottle that was laying on the bed for when he finished. I take two more hits while he is taking things in, I pass it to Dom one more time, informing him this was his last one for now. He nods obediently taking his last hit and laying back on the bed. One more hit for me before I put it out in the ash tray, the remaining bit of the joint gets carded away into the drawer for another night. I hear a short giggle slip past Dom’s lips and I immediately smile knowing it was working. “What’s funny?” I question him turning my face to look at him. He turns his head towards me as well grinning ear to ear, “nothing” he replies before turning his face the other way laughing again.

My jaw drops at the audacity and I climb onto his lap, my hands on his chest, demanding his attention. He looks up flustered for a moment, red tinting his cheeks. “What are you laughing about?” I beg, drawing out my sentence to show how much I’m pleading. He closes his eyes momentarily before opening them and answering “mm just thinking about something you told me before”. This peaks my interest even more because I said it, I lean down and peck his lips before persuading him even more by rubbing my hands down his chest “and what did I say?”. He becomes a little breathless focusing on the movement of my hands, “uhh… what?” Dom says seemingly forgetting everything. I giggle and press kisses to his face quickly making his grin forever lasting, when I’m done I roll of him making him whine in protest.

I start laughing again at his noise and he laughs with me just out of the random. He covers his face with his hands, his laughs flowing out of mouth consistently. Knocks have been hitting the door for two minutes now but no answer from inside. Finn, Damian, and Rhea set out to find the other two members for a quick late night meeting about the morning ahead of them. Rhea gets slightly irritated with the non existent answer and she pushes the door open seeing a unlikely sight. It was normal in the fact that the couple was together but the smell of weed and the droopy eyes brings her to a conclusion. She laughs saying “no way” while telling Finn and Damian to see the sight of Dom high and his girlfriend the same way.

[bucknastysbabe]

Kink Bingo - Free Space (C*ckw*rm*ng)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW PTSD/Nightmares, Tommy’s guilt, panic attacks, fluff fluff fluff, cockwarming, his gf hypes T up, all luved up, doggy style, getting railed and then made breakfast, set in Jackson

A/N: short n sweet

The things he and Joel did.

Cold sweats and nightmares didn’t happen as often the longer he’d been in Wyoming. But some nights the man couldn’t wake from the memories. Smell of blood and gunpowder— noises non-infected shouldn’t make. They didn’t care. It was in the name of survival. Canis canem edit, dog eat dog. Tommy’s chest tightened again, flashes of the fear of someone’s life draining out in their frantic orbs. He needed to get up, take a walk, a trip, something.

“Tom? You good baby?,” came her sleepy voice. 

Tommy relaxed a bit at her sweet voice. His baby never failed to make him feel grounded. The tether from letting him float off into a miasma of guilt. He gruffed, “Nothin’ sugar, just gettin’ some water. Want any?” She turned over with a sleepy sigh, bleary eyes gazing up at his own dark orbs. Her lips downturned, a slight furrow in her brow.

“Stay here. I’ll get the water, okay?”

Tommy gulped around his arid throat, body unable to move. He felt paralyzed, grunting his assent in the quiet room. She rustled the plaid covers and padded to the kitchen, Tommy’s eyes roving her stark form, locks swishing in the moonlight. He’d go back to the dark times for her— deciding to lock that thought away for later.

She returned with a big glass of water, perching on the side of his bed. Her eyes were kind as she took in his stricken impression, murmuring, “I’m sorry baby.” She grabbed the glass and held it to Tommy’s dry lips. He gulped the cool drink down, pausing to draw a wet breath. She cooed, rubbing his trim chest, “That’s it, you’re not there anymore sweets. Breathe. Breathe Tommy.”

Tommy tried to breathe, really did. He pulled her flush to his body, crushing the poor thing in his embrace. He couldn’t help the tears slide down his cheeks. The man cried, “Am I even worth it? Worth all this?” She gazed up and nuzzled his cheek, stating softly, “Your past doesn’t define you baby. You’re good. Good to the people, the town, to Joel and Ellie.” She pressed a dry kiss to his cheek, “You’re real good to me. Third place I’d been by, starving, close to death and you decided to take me in,” she patted his cheek, “You’re a damn fine man Tommy Miller and I love you.”

He tearily smiled, lamely joking, “You always gotta’ make me cry.” She hummed, stroking his hair, “Someone’s gotta. Can’t be big protector of Jackson all the time babe.” Her mouth grew closer to his as she whispered, “S’okay to be soft. I won’t tell.” Tommy warbled, “I love you,” and kissed his woman passionately, arms snaked round tighter. He spread his thighs to slot her in, savoring her natural essence.

They kissed softly for what felt like ages, simply holding and loving on eachother. Tommy cooed and praised her glory. She reached down to palm his stiff cock, mumuring, “Nightcap? Might help you sleep.” Tommy clenched his jaw in thought. He really just wanted to be closer to her tonight, joined as one.

He gruffed, “Think ya’ can just, uh, join me. Lay together, together I mean.” She smiled softly, moonlight catching on her cheeks, a painting of an angel. She cocked her head and crooned, “Sure honey. We can do that.” She reared up and guided Tommy’s flush cock to her slick core, quietly mewling his name. The man gasped and held to her as she seated herself and flipped them to the side, full and sated.

Tommy pressed kissed to the nape of her neck, purring, “Thank ya’ sugar. So good to me.” She turned to give him another kiss, chiding, “C’mon and relax now Miller. Let’s get some sleep.” Tommy was off to sweet oblivion in no time, breathing evening out.

By the time the sun filtered through the curtains, Tommy was awoken by a wonderful noise. A frustrated little moan of his name. Taking inventory, Tommy’s reignited cock was deep inside of her twitching pussy. It was slick too, good god. He rasped, “Mornin’ sugar.” She rolled back onto his cock, pussy swollen and needy.

The girl begged, “Fuck baby, woke up all needy- C’mon, c’mon so wet for you. Tommy please!” Her nails gripped at his sinewy arms wrapped round her squirmy waist. Tommy chuckled, “I gotcha’, least I could do,” he patted her ass, “On your belly baby.” She moaned loudly at the loss, presenting eagaerly. Tommy groaned as he stretched, moving to face her need.

He slid a calloused thumb through her copious slick, cursing, “Gaht-damn baby you’re a mess.” She peered back at him with teary eyes, “Pleasplease Tommybaby!” Tommy grinned and lined his pelvis up to hers, sliding his cock in. He cursed again at the tight slick, gripping her ass to hold himself. Down boy.

Feeling energized from decent sleep last night Tommy went at it, fucking her in deep thrusts, so loud the floor shook and squelches filled the morning air. She tore at the pillow, whining like a damn bitch in heat. Hell, he felt like he was in rut. He rasped, “Shit honey, so sweet, squeezin’ me real good.” He swatted her bouncing ass.

“All for you, so good!,” she howled.

If Tommy cared, he’d be embarrassed for the neighbors, but alas he didn’t give a fuck. Not with this tight little thing under him. The elder yanked at her hair, biting and sucking down her nape. He growled, “Good pretty little slut for your old man. You just love it dont’cha?” Tears streaking her pretty face she wailed, “Yes! Fuck yes!”

Tommy yanked her hair in one hand, didn’t miss a fucking thrust, and dug down to rub her obscenely swollen clit. That sent the sweetie into a frenzy, caterwauling and squeezing, legs shaking violently. Tommy bit down on his lip to keep quiet when she milked him clean up. He yanked his cock out, splattering hot seed on her quivering ass and back. He patted her on the cheek again, cooing.

“Thas’ what ya’ needed. Get my girl all tuckered out.” He pressed a kiss to her sweaty cheek and said, “You stay here n’ rest, hows’at sound?” Her smile and slur filled his heart, “Ngmm-pls” he hopped like a damn bunny.

He leant over to give her swollen lips a peck, murmuring, “How ‘bout breakfast huh, just take a breather sweetie.”

“N’uhokay,” she slurred.

Tommy ignored the usual morning aches and pains, hopping like a bunny to cook for his love. His sweet, kind love who gave him hope.

[peqchsoup]

I Can See You Pt. 2

Read Pt. 1 here

Thanks to @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 and @drewharrisonwriter here is a second part to my previous request

As previously, this has not been proofread :)

Enjoy, and let me know if you want a Pt. 3!

Your uber pulled up to a bar, not outrageous but not a dive, it was the perfect mix. Your black dress brushed the middle of your thighs as you stepped out of the cab. A sharp black wing popped out from the corner of each eye, a simple look, but one that made your eyes pop and matched your dress.

You pushed the door open and were greeted with soft jazz and atmospheric lighting. Glancing at the bar on the left, there was a person occupying almost all of the stools. Your gaze shifted to the right, where leather booths lined the wall and there, at the very end, was Joel Miller looking down at his beer. 

He was wearing a green plaid shirt with dark jeans and some work-style boots - though these seemed clean, so you assumed he didn’t actually wear them for work. Instead of the usual messy hair, Joel had combed his back ever so slightly, a couple of strands falling against his forehead. You had never seen him look so neat and standing there looking at him, you were left breathless.

He must have felt your eyes on him, because Joel lifted his gaze from his drink and caught your eyes. His mouth lifted in one corner, shooting a crooked smile in your direction and got up to greet you. 

Joel’s hand raised to brush your hair over your shoulder,

“You look gorgeous,” you blushed furiously, lost for words, “lemme getch’you a drink. What’re you havin’?”

“A Cosmopolitan, please.” 

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Joel gestured for you to sit while he went to the bar to grab your drink and another beer. You weren’t going to survive tonight if he continued acting the way he was. 

You couldn’t believe this Joel existed. Before, you had thought he was a hard shell, no way of cracking. But here you were, sitting at a table in a bar he invited you to for a date, checking out his ass while he perched on the bar.

Joel turned around with the drinks in his hands, smirking when he caught you staring which, in turn, made you blush yet again and look down at the table. You thanked him for the drink as he sat down across from you. You were so nervous that you couldn’t form any words; you just sat and gaped at the man sitting across from you.

You could have sworn Joel could hear your heart pounding in your chest when he brushed the hand you were resting on the table with his own. Naturally, your hand flinched at the touch, but you were glad that Joel didn’t pull away.

“Are you feeling alright? If you’re uncomfortable I can take you home, I won’t hold it against ya.”

Your head shot up from where you were looking at your drink and you were quick to protest.

“No! I’m not uncomfortable. I, uh, just don’t know what to say. I don’t know you very well.” Joel huffed a breath out of his nose in amusement. He flipped your hand over so he could hold it across the table, drawing circles in your palm. 

“I don’t have a great dating history so try to keep to myself but, the way I see you look at me, it does something. I’m feelin’ something I haven’t felt for a while.” 

Joel’s stare was full of pure lust. You had flashbacks to the incident in the office kitchen just a couple of hours ago. You could still feel his hands on you, his breath panting against your lips. Getting lost in thought, you looked down to his lips and back to his eyes, his right eye squinting slightly as he smirked at you again. 

The pair of you spent an hour talking. You told Joel about growing up and you watched as he started to unfold, telling you stories of the trouble he and Tommy would get into as teenagers. You were cracking the hard shell of Joel Miller.

After a final swig of his beer, he offered to drive you home, reassuring you that he’d only had the two beers and was safe to drive. You agreed with a chuckle and entered his truck.

Sitting there, you could see little pieces of Joel’s life. His jacket on the back seat, sitting next to a dirty football kit. On the floor, at your feet, you saw a blanket with “SM” stitched into the corner, indicating that it was his daughter’s blanket. You had heard snippets of Joel and Tommy talking about Sarah; when her next football match was, how she was doing in school now that she was in her last year of middle school. You hoped that one day you and Joel would have the kind of relationship where he would talk to you about Sarah, whether that relationship was romantic or just platonic.

Joel settled into the driver’s seat after closing the passenger door for you and pulled his own door shut with a sigh. 

“I told my daughter to clear her crap outta the car, I’m sorry I shoulda done it before tonight.”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ve definitely seen worse than this!” You were pretty much speaking from experience. Sometimes, your car seemed to be your own personal trash can. Joel gave a small thanks in your direction and switched the engine on. With the engine, the radio turned on and revealed a Luke Bryan CD that was halfway through a song. 

You laughed to yourself, or so you thought,

“You got somethin’ to say about my taste in music?” Joel turned his head to look at you when he accused you, frightening you at first. But when you saw the glint in his eyes, you realised he was joking. You smiled at him so wide that you were hurting your cheeks. 

“Not at all! You like what you like!”

You laughed together and Joel sang along to some of the songs merrily to make you laugh more, with you blurting directions in between his faked tone deafness.

It only took 10 minutes to get back to your apartment. Once again, Joel opened and closed your door for you, showing that he was ever the gentleman. He bent down to reach your height and, with a breath against your ear, practically whispered,

“Lemme walk you up.”

You felt the breath go straight from your ear to in-between his legs. His voice had dropped so low due to the whisper and it did things to you that you didn’t even want to admit to yourself.

In a 17-floor apartment block, you lived on the 15th. You had never taken the stairs, and weren’t about to now, no matter how much tension you could feel budding between you and Joel as you stood and waited for the elevator to arrive. 

It pinged as the doors opened, and Joel lifted his hand in a gesture for you to go first. You practically punched the button for your floor, hands shaking from the effect that Joel had on you. 

Both of you turned to face the doors as they slid shut and the elevator began its ascent to your apartment. Joel’s knuckles brushed yours and your breath quickened. He took that as a signal and spun to face you, grabbing your hips and pushing you against the wall of the elevator. 

As he pushed you back, his lips attacked yours, pushing his tongue past your lips without waiting for permission. Your hands flew up from your sides and made their way into his hair while his own hands rounded from your hips to your ass and pulled slightly, signalling for you to hop. 

You weren’t one for antics in an elevator, being deathly afraid of any movement making them fall, but all cares had flown out of the doors before they had closed. 

When you hopped, Joel helped by lifting you and pulling your legs around his waist to rest at his hips. His mouth detached from yours, instead choosing to focus on your neck and chest where skin was revealed by the cut of your dress. When he began to suck at the sweet spot of your neck, your head flew back against the elevator. The pain of it didn’t even register because of the pleasure you were feeling. 

The hands in Joel’s hair gripped tighter and you rolled your hips against his growing bulge. You moaned at how hard he was and soon fell into a rhythm with your hips. Joel growled and bit at your tender flesh, causing you to gasp. 

The elevator dinged and came to a gradual stop. With messy hair and clothes, you dragged Joel towards your apartment.

NB: I'm English so I write in British English rather than American English. I've used some American terms like elevator and trash can because they're more widely recognised, but you'll never catch me saying soccer instead of football

[punk-in-docs]

Okay I'm coming in hot for director's cut - so sorry if you've already answered this, but I'm curious how "Pencils" came to be in your mind / I'd love to hear any thoughts you have about this series.

- @superblysubpar 💛

Thank you for the ask @superblysubpar I’m coming in slow AF with my answer. Sorry about that babes. Been a helluva week. This ask made me smile though-

As far as Pencil’s nickname is concerned, I can tell you that it comes from a very innocent and a very sweet place; I simply believe that they first met/ knew of each other/ were in each others orbit/ in one class back in middle school.

Eddie being the scrungly non conformist metal baby that he was back then, probably didn’t care to come equipped for class, and then he gets sat behind this cool girl in scruffy jeans and too big plaid and sneakers, always humming cool songs and sending a withering glare at the empty headed preppy kids en route to high school stardom, when they picked on anyone (him mostly)

He doesn’t know why he does it. Maybe he’s looking for an olive branch, but either way he asks this cool girl in front of him, on the first day of class if he can borrow or steal a Pencil.

And she smiles, and says sure and hands him one. No problem.

Every class she smiles when he lopes in late and slips behind her. Every time he asks for one despite having several in his bag he plays dumb, just because of the rush of talking to her. Better than any sugar rush or sabbath riff.

He wants to approach her outside class, but he constantly sees her with this popular girl glued to her side as she rambles on about boys. He scuffs his converse and lets his courage shrink. Maybe pulls clownish stunts to see her laugh. And it all goes into distant orbit of being aware of each other by the time high school comes around. Aware but distanced.

Then, one fateful night, years and years and many grades later, he’s just done a deal with an asshole jock in the woods at Kyle whatshisnames party, and when he steps back onto the green green lawn, to scurry along home, imagine his shock when he finds that same girl, primped and partied up in a poppy outfit-

Pretty as ever too. So so pretty.

He’s never forgotten Pencil girl. Pencils. the nickname snapped out his mouth then with fervour and a toothy grin. Pencils. Always holding one in class. Doodling away. Drawing the shape and shading on hands or pill bugs or flowers and weird dogs and buildings and streets on the margins of her books or legal pads. The artist through and through.

Wants to study it one day, she said. Draw and draw til her fingers drop off. Draw comics and stage sets and paintings-

He’s never forgotten her small acts of kindness where everyone else had slung venom. Passed him answers on little torn scraps of paper for the pop quiz. Lend him pencils when he needed them. Or an eraser. Or stifled a laugh when he said something funny to frustrate the teacher.

She’s sat there, on this lawn chair, drunk probably, and there’s evidence of tears under her eyes and she’s just small and all alone, and he just, he can’t have that. He can’t leave it like that.

This time Eddie puffs his chest up and grins, eyes dancing bright, this time, the chance seems way too good to let slip through his fingers.

He can’t look away now he’s seen her. This is fate. It’s destiny even. If this shit show called life could ever hand him something kind and good, then here it is baby. Lit up in flashing gold tulip bulb lights like a goddamned broadway theatre.

Don’t miss this one again, kid. Hope don’t come knocking twice.

He cracks his knuckles. He boldly goes to see if she remembers him.

Here goes nothin, Munson-

[house-of-slayterr]

I Need A Vacation Pt. 2

Tag: @vechkinfan @dickspaghettii @yor72 @thelostboyswife @panickinanakin1

It was our third day in Santa Clara. For the most part, everyone was getting along. No one had been staked, not wolfsbane, no neck-snapping. It was nice to be away from Mystic Falls where I didn’t have to worry about my friends getting drugged by Vervain. Especially with my twin being a Hybrid now. The girls were off tanning at the beach, an activity I wasn't keen in joining them in. I wasn't a vampire, or a which, I could still get skin cancer.

Damon had dragged the boys somewhere to cause some mischief. I'm sure Stefan and Matt were being the voice of reason. While my brother was likely lucky to keep his head on his shoulders. Which left me all alone, standing in the middle of our air b and b rental. I drew the shades, blocking out any sunlight. Unlike my brother, My werewolf eyes were sensitive. I could see much better than him at night, but this hindered me during the day. Without my sunglasses, I was basically blind.

I turned the air conditioning up and laid down on the cold marble flooring of the kitchen. It felt nice against my hot skin. Before I knew it, I fell asleep.

David's POV:

The night was drawing close, I could see the last remnants of sunlight setting along the horizon. I was always the first to wake unless Dwayne was particularly antsy that day. It had been three days since we met that girl at the convenience store. Three whole days since we fed on her in the ally. I knew the boys were still thinking about her, I was too. Paul was jumping out of his skin at a chance to sniff her out. But we had to be patient, she said she'd meet us again, and I doubt she'd lie. Not after letting us feed on her so willingly. Nobody had ever done that for us before.

I hear Marko stir from his place on the ceiling, the others were quick to wake up after.

"I have a good feeling about tonight!" He declared, overly cheerful.

"Somebodies happy, wet have one of those dreams again?" Paul teased.

Marko rolled his eyes, and Dwayne chuckled lightly under his breath. He stretched showing the top of his happy trail. My eyes wandered for a moment, before Paul clapped his hand on my shoulder.

"And somebodies hungry this morning. Who did the two of you drink last night, because I want what you're having."?

"Shut it hairspray!" I flinched his hand off of me.

Dwayne chuckled playfully.

"If you're sure tonight is the night Marko, do your thing, sniff her out."

"With Pleasure." Marko cracked his infamous cat like grin.

He was the best tracker out of all of us. We set out into the crowd, patrolling the boardwalk as usual. Despite my best efforts, Paul got distracted by the usual chum. Pretty girls, less pretty boys. He was a horny bastard and he needed to get his priorities straight. He'd be disappointed if he tires himself out before we find her, she would to. And for that I'd have to punish him. But it was his grave he was digging, Paul learned things the hard way.

Dwayne was on high alert as usual, scanning the crowd as if any of these humans were a danger to us. Though I couldn't really blame him, his gut feelings were never wrong. I just wish he'd relax outside of the cave every once and a while.

But Marko, Marko did not disappoint. In under an hour, we had her in our sights again. And by the gods, was she breath taking. Her outfit wasn't particularly stunning the first time we met. But that hardly mattered, right now however, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I slapped Paul on the back of his head, pulling his attention away from the girl he was toying with.

"Ow, what the hell man?"

Her hair was loosely braided to one side. She wore a short red plaid skirt, black knee-high socks and platform boots. But what had my breath catching in my throat was her top or lack thereof. She wore a thing black lace bralette, and Dwayne's leather jacket hung loosely around it. It was way too oversized, and she honestly looked adorable in it. It was clear Dwayne agreed from the genuine smile on his face.

"She's wearing it."

I was honestly surprised when he gave it to her. Dwayne wasn't nearly as uppity about his jacket as Marko was with his. But it was still one of his favorite things. He wore it every day. Today however he threw on one of Paul's old black flannels he stole. It was a little tight on him, because his muscles were larger. But it still looked nice, weird but nice.

She was sat alone on a bench by Max's video store. None of her pesky friends following her today. Most importantly, her brother was nowhere in sight. He smelt like wet dog and cheap booze. She fidgeted with the necklace around her neck. Her gaze was far off, staring up at the sky.

Before I could finish reading Marko's mind, he was already on his way over. Too eager I suppose. I sighed heavily as I watched the scene unfold.

"Should we intervene?" Dwayne asked.

I shook my head.

"Naw man, Markie's just having some fun." Paul defended.

We watched as he jumped out in front of her, starling her. I could hear the soft squeak that left her mouth. She clutched her necklace tighter and glared up at him. We took that as our que to softly approach.

"You should have seen your face." Paul laughed.

"You should know it well, it's the same face you make when you walk past a reflective surface."

Paul placed a hand over his heart in offence. Marko was double over laughing, leaning on her shoulder.

"How are you?" I asked smoothly.

She smiled up at me, holding out her hand, as if to ask for mine I pulled her up to her feet, watching Marko stumble in the process.

"Thank you. And I'm fine, you?"

I gave her a half-baked answer, I could tell she wasn't fully with us. Her eye looked past me at the sky again. I followed her line of sight, and she quickly shrunk in on herself when she noticed.

"Something wrong?" Dwayne asked for me.

"Sorry. Just, the moons very bright tonight, don't you think?"

"It is, isn't it." I muttered.

"Awesome, isn't it? The blood moons tonight." Paul wiggled his fingers in her face like a kid telling a ghost story.

She frowned, but it was so subtle I almost thought I imagined it.

"Yeah, cool..."

"You with us Doll face?" I mused.

Her attention snapped back to me.

"So, you settled on Doll face? Better than Kitten I guess." she laughed lightly.

It wasn't pity laugh. Just something small, genuine.

"What's wrong with Kitten, Kitten?" Marko purred in her ear.

"Wrong type of pet." She joked.

The type of joke, only she knew the true meaning of. But Marko took this as a challenge.

"Little bird? Bunny? No, no- you're definitely some thinks cool like a snake!" He declared.

She pushed his face away with her hand.

"Keep trying buddy. You boys want to get out of her?" She asked.

I could hear the nerves in her voice, it was the way Dwayne spoke when he felt threatened.

"I thought you'd never ask." Paul grinned.

I held out my hand, mirroring her earlier action. She took it gratefully and we all started walking.

"Where too?" I questioned.

"Somewhere the light doesn't touch." She said defiantly.

On odd request, but who was I to judge. She was making this all too easy. I walked her over to where Our bikes sat and helped her hop on. I handed her the extra helmet I used for Star. The boys and I talked through our mind link.

"Do you think she's on something?" Paul asked.

"Her pupils were fine." Dwayne observed.

"Of course, you were staring at her eye's loser, did you see what she's wearing?" Marko jeered.

That was a stupid question, of course he did. But Dwayne was more gentlemanly than the rest of us, or at least he played the part better.

"She seemed uncomfortable, maybe she got in a fight with one of her friends. Would explain why that blond girl wasn't hanging off of her, and that due with the dumb haircut wasn't glaring at anyone who got to close." Dwayne queried.

"Doesn't explain why she doesn't like the light." I finally chimed in.

Nobody seemed to have an explanation for that one. The rest of the ride to the cave was silent. She got of my biked, taking of the helmet, and removing her braid. She shook her hair out, so it fell sloppily around her neck. The bite marks had healed pretty well.

"So, what do you think?" Marko asked.

"Of what? This hunk of rock?" She laughed, not genuine like it was early.

She was defiantly on edge about something.

"Well, this hunk of rock is ours, Sweetcheeks" Paul slung his arm over our shoulders.

"We live deep within the cave, used to be an old hotel or something like that. Sink hole got to it."

"No shit, that's kinda cool actually. Show me around?" She asked, looking right into his eyes.

Dwayne playfully scooped her up in his arms.

"Hey, put me down!" "No can do, the way in's slippery, can't have you falling and breaking that pretty little neck of yours."

I knew he was cracking. Vampires were territorial creatures by nature. Being this close to our home and seeing her in his clothes. His mind was numbing by the second.

He flew her down to our spot in the cave, Her giggled echoed of the walls. It made my undead heart swell in a way I didn't think it could. He plated his feet on the edge of the fountain, threatening to drop her in it. A move I'm sure he learned from one of the terror twins.

"No don't!"

"Why not?" "Because you'll ruin your jacket silly!" She said it like there was nothing more obvious in the whole world.

Paul had already made himself comfortable on the couch. Marko read my mind and left to go get some food. We wouldn't need to find dinner ourselves, if she let us feed on her again. I stood watching the whole ordeal and lit a cigarette.

"And what if I were to just take it back?"

Her eyes widened like saucers.

"You musty ass bitch! you'll have to pry it from my could dead hands!" she shouted.

She somehow managed to twist out of his hold, flipping backwards and landing expertly on the tip of the center of the fountain.

Paul starred at her like she just grew a second head. I honestly was surprised, and mildly impressed. Dwayne took a moment to contemplate what just happened but lunged for her playfully. She jumped back gain, dogging him with ease. A chase ensued for a few minutes, Paul deciding to join in and help.

"Oh, come on, it's my jacket!" Dwayne tried to reason.

"Finder keepers, losers' weepers!" She stuck her tongue out at him.

It was like she sensed Paul's presence behind her, cause she ducked when he tried to reach for her, slipping under his legs. She grabbed his hair and pulled him close, using him as a human shield between her and Dwayne. Paul bit his lip hard, I could tell he was trying to hold back a moan. It was honestly hilarious, and what that idiot deserved. They circled each other for a moment, stargazing.

"Hey when did I become a pawn in this?"

"When you picked his side you traitor."

Marko came back with the food, but none of them moved an inch.

"I got the chow- what the hell is going on here?" He asked amused.

"Care to explain Doll face?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Dwayne want's his jacket back. I like being warm."

Marko chuckled, placing the food down on the makeshift coffee table.

"Oh yeah? I could always warm you up babe." He tried.

She rolled her eyes.

"Pick a side blondie, there no cuddling in the heat of war!"

He jumped over the couch and stood by Dwayne's side.

"What? Wouldn't give up my jacket for just any girl." He smiled at her.

"Boo, you whore!"

I laughed under my breath, it was true, Marko as a whore.

"What are you laughing at Ken, get over here and help me."

I raised a brow at her. Not only did she just give me an order, she called me ken. It's almost like she raid my mind, because in a smaller voice, with a blush on her face, she explained.

"Well, if I'm your doll..."

"When you say it like that, sure, I'll help you."

I stood Infront of her and Dwayne glared at me. She finally let go of Paul, knowing he wouldn't dare switch back teams.

"So that's how were gonna play this?" Dwayne asked her.

"All is fair in war." She shrugged.

She definitely shouldn't have said that. He and Marko shared a look, before he launched the smaller boy at me. I shifted the impact so we wouldn't back up into her. Dwayne went for her but got cut off by Paul. She took this as an opportunity to run and hide. Another mistake. We were vampires, she knew this. It was amusing she thought we couldn't find her.

I quickly shook Marko off of me and went to go find her. She'd never suspect someone on her own team to turn on her. She said it herself, anything goes. I pulled back the makeshift curtain, separating Paul's part of the cave. I found her hiding behind the mini fringe he kept in there. I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder.

"NO fair!" She let out between laughs.

"This has been fun Doll, but I'm hungry and you're delaying dinner."

She must have understood my double entendre, because I felt a shiver run through her spine. I chuckled menacingly. I threw her down on the couch and she glared up at me. Dwayne came up behind her and removed his jacket.

"I win." he said, leaning down to her height and grinning.

She said nothing, glaring. She was giving him the silent treatment. To emphasized this, she turned away from him, focusing her attention on Paul. She called him over, and he obliged. She pecked him on the cheek.

"Thats for not betraying me."

He smiled the brightest smile I've ever seen. He plopped down next to her on the couch and handed her some food.

"Thanks."

We all ate, the boys making meaningless conversation. Dwayne looked over at her every once in a while, trying to gauge if she was actually upset. I was just glad she was eating. We wouldn't want her passing out later. I'm sure she'd have to get back to her friends sooner or later. She spaced out again, staring lifelessly at a spot on the floor. Paul nudgedx her shoudler, but she didnt budge. I grew a tad concenred.

"Y/N?" I asked.

The other boys drew their full attention to her now.

"Y/N?" I asked a little louder.

Marko waved his hand in front of her face. A few minutes past and we still could snap her out of it. So, I made a decision.

"What are you doing?" Paul asked, suddenly protective.

"We have to snap he out of whatever this is, she's not consciously breathing, and her heart is slowing. You can hear it can't you?"

They all nodded.

"Being gentle isn't working so-"

I extended my claws. I grabbed her wrist, turning it over in my grasp. I made eye contact with Dwayne for a second, he was the smartest of us, basically asking if he thought this was the right play. He gave me a nod. I dug y nail into her skin, hard enough to draw blood. She snaped out of it quickly, grabbing my hand in a tight grip. Her eyes met mine and they were darker than before. She had a scowl on her face.

"What was that?" She growled.

"We lost you for a second there, you were out for a few minutes." I said defensively.

Her grip is much tighter than it should of been. The boy's and I suspected she wasn't human, but she wasn't one of us either. That was obvious. What the hell was she?

"Yeah, you totally went all zombie on us, not like literally-"

She cut off Paul with a glare. She took a deep breath, before finally letting go of my arm. There was a red mark for a moment, before it healed.

"Sorry." She apologized.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Dwayne, always the worry wort.

"What does it feel like when you feed?" She asked suddenly, changing the subject.

I starred at her with curiosity.

"When you drink from a human, I mean. How does it make you feel?" Her question was directed at me specifically this time.

"IS that what you're worried about. We weren't gonna feed on you without permission." I laughed.

She shook her head.

"No." She looked past me at Dwayne now. "What do you think when you're doing it?"

Dwayne let out a heavy sigh.

"I don't think we have the answer you want."

"I'm not testing you; I just want a genuine answer. Please." Her voice got small in the end.

Paul was an idiot, but he was good at comforting. He pulled her close once he felt no resistance, and pet her hair down, smoothing it.

"Well, for me it feels really exciting. More the hunting them down, hearing their please. Sometimes they taste good, and the ones that don't, the weed helps." He explained.

I excepted her to pull away from him, disgusted, but she just nodded, leaning into his touch more.

"Well, if were being honest, it kidna turns me on. I usually pick the hottest people to feed off of. You were the first one who liked it though." Marko added.

She gave him a weak smile, eyes drifting to Dwayne.

"I didn't like it at first, being a vampire. But it doesn't bother me anymore. I like it because they like it. As long as they're having fun, then so am I." Dwayne confessed.

"So not only are you a literally leech, but you're a social leech to." She joked softly. Laughing into Paul's chest.

Dwayne rolled his eyes. Her attention finally shifted back to me. We held eye contact for a long time, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Why do you want to know?" I sighed. "Aren't their answers good enough?"

She sat up, pulling away from Paul. I heard a small whine escape him. But he let her go anyway.

"I'm not asking you to pour your heart out to me David. I'll-" She stopped herself, running an unsteady had through her hair. "I'll answer a question for you, if you answer mine. Any question, I can't say no." She offered.

It was tempting, truly. I wanted to know if me and the boys could trust her. Why we felt these things towards her, that we never felt before. Why she had this effect on us.

"Any question?"

"You can each ask me something, yes." Her heart didn't falter, she wasn't lying.

"It's a power exchange for me. To know me and my boys can strike fear, that people wouldn't mess with us. I feed on douchbags, idiots who deserve what they get. To watch them feel small, it feels good. If you're talking more literally, it does power us. Were stronger right after we've just fed. We feel faster, lighter, our mood improves."

She looked lost in thought for a moment.

"Thank you for being honest."

"You're not scared of us?" Paul asked, sounding hopful.

"Is that your question?"

He thought for a moment, before nodding. Out of all of us, he was the worst with rejection. She reached out to stroke his cheek with her thumb.

"No. I'm not scared of you. If you guys wanted to kill me, I'd most likely already be dead. Now, trust is a different story. But I trust you as much I trust any man. But at least you guys seem to want to be honest with me."

"Why did you let us feed from you?" Dwayne asked next. "You'd already been fed on that night, so why risk it?"

"Because I can tell when a vampire is in need. You boys are just more forthcoming with your thirst then others I've interacted with. Besides, you piqued my interest, and my night was rather boring."

He didn't seem fully satisfied with the answer none of us were, but he let her continue.

"Do you like me? I mean us?" Marko blurted out.

She let out a soft chortle.

"Would I be here right now if I didn't?"

He frowned.

"The answer is yes, Marko, I do find all of you rater attractive. I'm just a bit more subtle than you are."

He gave a small cheer.

"The floor is yours David." She spoke.

"Who bit you that night? Did you know the vampire?"

"Thats two questions." She stalled.

"Y/N" I warned.

She sighed dropping her head. She fidgeted with her hands.

"Yes. I knew him."

"Him?" Marko and Paul asked in sync.

I could tell their territorial nature was kicking in as well.

"He's a friend, he doesn't like me like that. Probably never will." She sounded sad. "He's not very good at controlling his thirst-"

"So, he bit you?" I asked, angry.

"It's not like that, David. He would never hurt me... on purpose. He doesn't like hurting people, He didn't bring enough blood packs on this trip, so I gave him a top off. It was my choice, just let letting you guys' feed on me was my choice."

"He's using your feeling for him to get stuff from you." I said.

"And you aren't?!" She suddenly yelled. "I know what your intentions were bringing me here, to your home. It's secluded, no body for miles, I'm not stupid David. Don't you dare suggest that I am not in control of my own feelings, and my body!"

She got up in my face.

"He didnt-" Dwayne started to defed me.

"NO! Let him speak for himself, this is his grave he's digging, not yours."

"It was not my place to speak."

"Yeah, no shit.

She suddenly slumped over, clutching her side. She groaned in pain. I reached down to try to ask what was wrong.

"What, time is it?" She asked, her voice strained.

"Almost midnight, why?" Dwayne asked, getting up from his spot and coming over to her.

"I have to go." She shrugged Dwayne's hand off her and tried to stand, faltering in her steps.

"You don't look so good." Paul said.

If Paul was concerned, something was definitely wrong.

"I'm fine!" she growled out.

Her town was low, deep. She doubled over in pain again, this time falling to her knees.

"I shouldn't have come here; this was a mistake." She said. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"What's happening?" I asked, my tone more bitter than I intended.

"The blood moon." She stuttered out. "You all should leave, it's not- it's not safe." She pleaded.

I heard a deafening crack echo throughout the cave. She cradled her arm with her other hand.

"This was reckless, I'm so stupid." It seemed like she was talking more to herself now.

Paul tried to help her up but hissed and pulled his hand away.

"She's burning up." He explained. "Like really hot."

She suddenly let out a scream as another loud crack was heard. She laid on her back now, staring up at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. Her eyes flashed yellow. I was by her side in an instant, holding her in my arms.

"I know you're trying to help David, but you cant. It's not safe. I'm- I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have put you guys int his position."

Before I could ask for clarification, she screamed again. This tie I could feel her bones cracking. She was a sweating mess, writhing in pain. Even after all the horrible things I've done, I couldn't stand to watch this. The boys remained quiet, trying not to disturb her. But their thoughts were rapid. But one thoughts of Dwayne's stood out.

"What's effected by the moonlight, has fangs, and a high body temperature?" He asked himself.

"It can't be." Marko said.

"Max said they were real, just not native to this part of the country, that's why he made a home in California." Paul reasoned.

It could be possible; we'd never seen one of their kind in person. Only heard the stories.

"You're a werewolf." I concluded.

She nodded, a few tears slipping from her eyes as they screwed shut.

"How can we help?" Dwayne asked, kneeling down besides us.

"You can't. My brother, he's the only one who-"

The most violent scream I'd ever heard tore through her throat. It grated in my ears, it held so much anguish, even Marko flinched. And he relished in his victim's scream, but she wasn't his victim.

"I'll go find him." Marko was quick to leave.

We'd caught his scent that first day, it was obvious now he smelled like a wolf. But why didn't she smell that way? Paul paced back and forth, biting his nails. He didn't know what to do. Paul was never good in a crisis, especially not ow that he was currently sober. She calmed for a moment, gripping my hand and breathing heavily.

"I- I'm ok. This isn't my first turning. But you can't stay. Whatever you do, don't let me bite you. My venom is poisonous to your kind."

Max had conveniently left that out, telling us we'd never have to worry about werewolves. She bit down on her tongue, her body contorting wildly.

"David, promise me you'll leave. It's not fair for me to kick you out of the house, you aren't day walkers. But you'll find somewhere safe to hide." She took in a couple stuttered breaths.

"My friends, bring them my necklace." She ripped it off, handing it to me. "They'll know It's an emergency if you have this, I never take it off unless I trust someone. They'll make sure you're away from the sun and away from me. Now go!" She begged.

She threw herself off of me, backing up into the wall.

"Now!" she yelled.

I hesitated, we all did, but she promised she'd be alright. Marko would alert her brother and we'd fixed this. She had to be ok, she had to. The boys and I left, in search of her friends.

AN: I know this isn't how it works in the vampire diaries universe. But since Tyler and her are twins, and only he's a hybrid, I'm making this choice for dramatic effect. She can tell when he's fed, because he gets stronger. Twin bond or some shit. But since he can turn whenever, and she still has to turn on the full moon, she feels the pain he would have if he chose to turn with her. Usually, he does to lessen her pain, but this vacation her forgot.

[arcplaysgames]

Yosuke, audibly tearing up: HAHA i bet chie is crying right now lmao ANYWAY I GOTTA GO IRON THE DOG, BYE

I want Chie and Yosuke to accidentally go see a sad movie together and bawl their eyes out and then make a pact to never speak of the incident again. Or, wait, Yosuke would want a pact, Chie would be like "dude have you MET me i cry at the drop of a hat! everyone has seen me cry! i'm not a baby about it like you!" and then they fight about it but Chie agrees not to tell everyone Yosuke cried.

YUKIKO BEST GIRL. man i remember back at the start of this game when i didn't dig her vibe and now i just am happy every time she shows up bc its sure to be good

anyway, everyone celebrates new years together, and I have a full body flashback to another Reverie Vantas, standing at Naganaki Shrine in Iwatodai and the beautiful music that came with the turn of the year as the end of the world was nigh.

I sure fucking hope the end of the world is not fucking nigh AGAIN.

also everyone look at naoto's winter outfit. my god the transmasc swag is off the fucking charts. look at them. that's a BOLO TIE. their pants are plaid print. impeccable. I'm applauding.

Nanako and Reverie make a Teddieman. It's adorable.

Then the game is like "hey go say happy new year to all your slinks" and i thought I'd pop in on Margaret and Marie

(also, Persona, you are a COWARD, let me have a link with Igor. COWARDS)

Marie is gone?????? The fuck.

This sounds like it's gonna kick off the bonus dungeon so good for me hitting the flag? but also what, she's GONE?

My favorite duo arrives because Yosuke has plans for a skiing trip, but also I just am thrilled to be a bystander in the Yosuke And His Annoying Younger Brother He Found In A TV Dimension show. Yosuke literally feels years older when Teddie is around because he's constantly sparking off him in that particular sibling way. It's genuinely heartwarming.

Yosuke: teddie is such a pain in the ass

Teddie: I'll stay with sensei for a few weeks

Yosuke: WHAT WAIT NO 8C

It'll be okay, Yosuke, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe your parents will draw up official adoption papers. Teddrick "Teddie" Hanamura. That sounds awful but we're gonna roll with it!

also thank god teddie is here bc Dojima and Nanako are out of town for a bit so Teddie is the one there when Reverie fucking collapses. WHICH HAPPENED IN P3P TOO ODDLY ENOUGH. Persona be like "oh, ur near the end of the game? inexplicable illness time!"

Weird.

Reverie dreams of Marie standing in front of the bonus dungeon, I assume. I ACTUALLY THINK YOU'RE PRETTY NEAT MARIE SO I WILL SEE YOU LATER! WAAAAAAAIT FOR ME, I'M COMIN' etc etc.

good ol teddie

Margaret calls to inform us that she's on google maps looking for the bonus dungeon and will get back to us as soon as she has directions. the Velvet Room has terrible data reception.

WAIT NO THIS IS PRE-GOOGLE MAPS. she's gotta use MapQuest to plot a route and then find a printer to make a copy of it. That shit takes time.

JUNPEI THIS IS AN EMERGENCY, HOW DOES MY HAIR LOOK wait wrong lightning bruiser i have a terrible crush on. dammit.

[flowersarefreetherapy]

You Are My Sunshine: pt. 9

CW: Self-hatred, implied past violence, negative internal dialogue, past conditioning

(takes place a few days after this piece)

They had already talked it out. Robin said it was fine, Thad assured them it wouldn’t happen again, and they went to talk with the young man. Star. That is his name. Robin went to talk to him and everything was supposed to be fine. That’s how it’s supposed to work out. 

But as Thad sits there, staring at his students as they laugh about something, he can’t stop thinking about the kid. And not just him, but the others they have taken in over the years. All Romantics, all pretty faces and perfect voices and calculating movements. He loves them, he really does, and he wants to help them, want them to get out of the training and the walls that have been placed around their lives, but there's always something when he looks at them. Their beauty which has kept them alive this far is a glaringly obvious difference to his scarred skin and missing hand. 

“Mr. Castillo?” Philipp runs up to him, holding up his worksheet. “Lilia drawed on mine!”

Thad forces himself back into the moment and kneels down so he is on the same level as the young boy. “I’m sorry, Philipp.”

“I looked away and then she drawed on mine!”

Thad takes a deep breath and lets Philip lead him to where the other kids are sitting. The rest of the day is spent with reading and addition and no time to think. Normally he enjoys the time, but he can’t do that now. He can’t have his brain spiraling. 

When he gets home, there is a pot of rice on the table, the air thick with the smell of curry. He smiles and hangs up his jacket and keys. 

“I’m home, sunshine!”

“Hey,” Robin walks into the hallway. Their hair is up in a messy half bun, a few strands falling around their face. Thad recognizes the button up they’re wearing as his own; a light blue plaid. “Dinner is ready.”

“Thanks.”

His smile doesn’t last. It drops and Robin’s follows. They step forwards, gaze darting between his eyes. 

“Thad? What happened?”

“Is Star here?”

Robin frowns. “He’s in his room. Why? Thad, what happened? You’re scaring me.”

“It’s nothing,” Thad says. “Well, nothing important. It’s just stupid.”

Robin reaches out and takes his forearms. Their thumbs rub across his skin, passing over scars long devoid of feeling. Thad rests his forehead against theirs, letting out a long sigh. He closes his eyes and rests in safety, allowing his muscles to relax. Whatever he is struggling with means nothing when he’s with his partner, when they can take it on together. 

“Thad, honey, what’s wrong?”

“I–I’m not them.” Their question is all it takes for his barriers to come crashing down. His voice cracks on the words, his hand starting to shake. “I’m not pretty and I’m not desirable and the only thing I’m good for is fighting and killing and I don’t know how to make you happy and–”

“Thad, what-what are you talking about?”

“Them,” Thad whispers. “The others.”

Robin’s eyes widen. They’ve drawn the connections and he can see the wheels of their mind start to turn, picking apart whatever arguments he is about to throw at them. 

“They were wanted,” Thad breathes, holding onto Robin’s hand to keep from drowning. His eyes burn. “They were wanted.”

He remembers seeing them through the bars he can never forget, in that dark room where the smell of blood and urine burned his nose and eyes. Grinding his teeth behind the tight muzzle they clamped around his face, watching with hatred as the pretty, clean Pets fawned over their owners, got to have fresh water in little cups, ate bright food that wasn’t mush. He hated them, hated when he looked up, standing in the middle of the ring, covered in blood and sweat with a body at his feet, and there they were, sitting there in laps, kneeling with smiles on their faces. They were loved, they got to go home to soft beds and warm blankets and a master who loved them, not threw them away at the first sign of weakness. 

Then there were the ones he saw even further back, the ones he doesn’t like to think about. Surrounded by white walls and white floors and white uniforms. They were the ones all the handlers wanted to have. He remembers them standing over his body, warm blood running down his face as they talk about one of them. Words he doesn’t like, describing things he doesn’t want, all while he struggles to breathe through cracked ribs. They were the ones who got candy and gifts and their training was always better, always leaving them breathless and smiling, not screaming for mercy he will never receive. 

“They are always wanted,” Thad chokes out. Blinding pain stabs into his temples. Phantom pain lances up his arm from where his hand once was. “Always! No one wants the ugly ones, the stupid ones, the dumb mutts.”

Once a dumb mutt, always a dumb mutt. You know that. Stupid, thinking you could be anything else. 

“Thad, you are none of those things. You are brave and smart and funny and handsome, you are so handsome.”

Robin’s hand cups his face and Thad leans into it. He can’t remember the last time he has spiraled this far. He meets his partner's gaze, holding it as he tries to match Robin’s steady breathing.

They would make a beautiful Romantic. 

Thad recoils. Where the hell did that thought come from? Bile burns the back of his throat as he struggles to recover, but he knows the truth. Their auburn hair and hazel eyes would have been enough on their own, but once their easy grace is factored in . . . Thad shakes his head, pulling his mind away from that very dangerous path. His palm sweats, his skin crawling with the sensation that he has been defiled. 

“Thad, look at me. What happened?”

Thad shakes his head. It’s the most he can manage. How can he explain that to Robin? How could he ever explain the full darkness coiled inside of him to the person who loves him the most? Robin, for all their beauty and love and kindness, could never know. They know how horrible the world is, but they can never understand all he has done, all that he is capable of doing. 

He looks at them and sometimes, instead of seeing his partner, he sees the fifty ways he can kill them without a weapon. He looks at them and sometimes he knows he can take whatever he wants without asking and they won’t be able to stop him. He looks at them and sees a beauty who never deserved a beast.

“Come on.” Robin leads him to the couch and they pull him close. Thad presses his head in the crook between their jaw and shoulder, tears burning his eyes. “Shh, love, I have you. You’re home, you’re safe, you’re loved. You aren’t there. You’re with me. Do you remember your name?”

He nods. He hasn’t forgotten, he just remembers more than he wants. It isn’t the answer Robin is looking for, so he forces himself to swallow back a sob and whisper, “My name is Thad Castillo. Your name is Robin. You’re my partner. I love you.”

Good mutts speak when asked questions. 

“I love you too,” Robin responds. “You’re safe, Thad. And whatever is going on, whatever lies they told you, they’re just that. Lies. You have value and you are not the lies they told you.” They rub circles across his back, forcing his tensed muscles to relax. “You are not a mutt. You are a man and you are my husband.”

Good mutts have owners. Good mutts belong to their masters. 

Thad clenches his hand into a fist, sharply exhaling. His wedding ring digs into his finger, pinching the skin. The moment of pain brings clarity. Robin shakily exhales, their breath ghosting across his face. 

“I love you,” they whisper in his ear. “Nothing will change that. I love you, I chose you, I want you by my side for the rest of my life.”

Good mutts stay with their masters. They protect their masters. 

Thad nods. It’s easier than trying to combat the lies. He nods and can feel the tension training from Robin’s body. Good. They aren’t panicking. He hates when they panic and he doesn’t know what to do.

Stupid mutt. They don’t want you. They’re smart. Why would they want a stupid creature like you? 

Tagging: @pigeonwhumps @blood-is-compulsory (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

[grey-sides]

Angst prompt 7 for harringrove? </3

"do you think about them when you look at me?" Here it is anon! I tried to give us some resolution because it appears to have been a rough day for all. Feel free to send me prompts, I'll likely draft up a fix-it this weekend after I get through Volume 1 too!

Steve’s window is open to let in some cool night air because it’s almost summer, but his dad hasn’t turned the air conditioning on yet. His ceiling fan is going, but he and Billy are both laying on the bed, panting, sweaty, naked. Billy is silent like he usually is, one hand tucked behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling.

And Steve is tired and irritable because his seasonal allergies are acting up and he didn’t get much sleep last night. He’s going to blame these things on what he accuses Billy of next. He’s just tired from lack of sleep and tired of being jerked around. And Billy never talks, barely says two words to him in the middle of it all which is so unlike him in every other situation. And Steve is. Steve is putting his foot down. 

“Am I just a placeholder?” Steve asks, sitting up so he can look across his bedroom at his stupid plaid wall with the stupid chair railing. 

Billy makes a sound in the back of his throat and he lifts his other hand in the air, waving it around. “What? You’re gonna have to elaborate?”

Steve clenches his jaw for a moment and forces a breath out his nose. Maybe he should just kick Billy out before it can start to hurt. “This. Is this just something for you to do while you’re stuck in Hawkins? I’m just someone for you to do while you’re stuck in Hawkins?”

“Huh?” Billy is always slow after sex, lazy and unwilling to engage in conversation. 

Steve turns and he’s sure he has fire in his eyes. Plants one hand on the bed while he looms over Billy’s head. “Do you miss the boys you fucked back in California? Do you think about them when you look at me?”

Billy blinks at him twice before his brow slowly furrows and he leans up on his elbows. “What?”

Steve turns away again and draws his knees up. He hates feeling vulnerable, hates feeling like he’s opened up his ribs so demodogs can chew at the soft cavity underneath. 

Billy sits up more and puts his warm, warm palm on Steve’s shoulder, trying to turn him around. “Steve, what the hell is this about?”

Steve swallows hard because that means Billy means business. He’s not calling him Harrington, he’s calling him Steve. “You just- you close your eyes every time we have sex where I can look into them.”

Billy sighs and Steve hears his flop back down, his hand falling away from Steve’s shoulder. “God, that’s so dumb.”

“No it’s not!” Steve snaps, turning to him again. “It’s not. Because I’m not here to be a placeholder until you can go back to California.”

Billy rolls his eyes and looks away, sticking both arms behind his head now. He looks good, but his jaw is set like he’s not going to say anything to deny it.

“Are you fucking serious? You are! You’re just fucking around with me until you can leave this town!” Steve cries, outraged and hurting. 

Billy sighs again, but his eyes roll over to Steve at least. “What do you want me to say, huh? Oh no, Steve, I would never do that. In fact, I love Hawkins now just because I got involved with your big dick and now I want to stay forever! Get fucking real, man, we haven’t been doing this long enough for you to make demands of me.”

Steve sets his jaw next and he wishes Billy would have just broken a plate over his head again. He gets out of bed and grabs the nearest pair of boxes, they’re his, thankfully. Unbelievable. Just fucking unbelievable. 

“Where are you going?” Billy asks when Steve crosses the room to open his door. 

“Away from you!” Steve snarls and wrenches it open. He stalks out of the room and down the hall, cursing up a storm.

Billy waits a few minutes before hauling himself up to find his own boxers. He rubs his hands over his face for a moment, unreal. Drama Queen Steve Harrington, that’s what Tommy H should have called him. 

He follows after that, listens to the sound of Steve spitting curses and finds him in the kitchen. He’s drinking orange juice straight out of the carton when Billy gets downstairs. He’s gross. Billy thinks he could love him. 

Billy crosses his arms and leans against the counter, waiting for Steve to turn around. They’re both stubborn. Billy can wait. Worse places to die of patience than Steve Harrington’s house. 

When Steve puts the carton back, Billy decides he has to be the adult here. “Are we gonna talk about it or do you just want to pout?”

Steve turns to him, nostrils flaring, brows drawn down because he’s still angry. He’s allowed to be angry. “What’s there to talk about? You were pretty clear just now.”

Billy tilts his head back, takes a deep breath, looks back at Steve. “You know what? You don’t get why I’m allowed to be mad too. So let me lay it out for you. I’m not making plans with some guy who waxes poetic about every girl he talks to the second he gets off. I don’t wanna hear about your ex or the new cute girl you work with. I don’t know what we’re doing and now you wanna get mad at me for not promising you forever?”

Steve’s fury dies a little in his eyes and he shakes his head a little. But he doesn’t deny doing it. Every other sentence out of Steve’s mouth is about Nancy or Robin. Billy wonders if he ever tells either one of them about him. “I- fuck. We’re dysfunctional,” he mutters. 

Billy snorts a little and nods. “We are. But we have good sex.”

Steve rolls his eyes and looks over at him. “I’ll shut up about Nancy and Robin. Just feels like I gotta fill the silence sometimes, you know?”

Billy walks around the island so he can look at Steve, gaze into his eyes, stare into his soul. “I’ll try to keep my eyes open while you give me mind blowing orgasms.”

Steve gives him a half-smile, but he still looks a little hurt. “Are you gonna forget about me when you go back to California?”

“Fat chance,” Billy chuckles. “No one guys doing it like you do out there.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Billy agrees with a nod, a quick flash of teeth. “King Steve was my first dude, you know?”

Steve looks surprised for a moment, but he smiles and starts to look cocky. “Oh really? So I’ve ruined you for all the other guys?”

Billy rolls his eyes and lightly punches him in the shoulder. “Come on, I wanna go listen to a CD in bed.” He reaches for one of Steve’s wrists, pulling him along.

At this moment, he can’t promise him forever. Can really only promise him right now. But maybe by the time Billy graduates and Steve figures out how to actually let Nancy go. Maybe he’ll take him to California too.