#not prompted by ANYTHING IN PARTICULAR YA KNOW

[virune]

If you're still accepting prompts, then I've got one for the Puppet AU:

Shadow, despite claiming he was indestructible, finally gets a tear in his fabric, and it's on the back of his shoulder, which he can't reach.

Sonic then offers to help him [You can decide how it goes].

Ever since Shadow had been brought into the studio, Sonic couldn't take his eyes off him.

Sometimes it got distracting. He was grateful that he didn't really have to do anything while a human was controlling him, so he could zone out and think about how pretty the other puppet was. Deep, rumbling voice, piercing red eyes, glossy, velvety fur...

Sonic was infatuated.

But then when the humans left and the puppets could finally be themselves, Shadow would vanish. Every time. Sonic would try to catch him after their show, but Shadow always separated himself from the group to disappear somewhere. Sonic found himself never quite being able to figure out where Shadow was going, and why he was so adamant about being alone.

On this day, however, the routine seemed to change.

When the last human left the studio for the weekend, the puppets rose to their feet as usual. Sonic praised Tails for his great performance in the Tornado before turning to watch Shadow leave, as he always did.

But he hadn't.

Shadow's lingering presence caught Sonic off-guard, but he didn't want to squander this opportunity to finally talk to him.

"Nice work today, Shads!" he called, waving a plush arm to catch the other's attention. He just hoped that Shadow wouldn't suddenly realise he hadn't left and get away before they could have a proper conversation.

Instead, Shadow folded his arms over his - woefully soft-looking - chest. "I don't need your approval. I know that I'm good at my job."

Despite himself, Sonic couldn't stop the dopey smile that stretched the cotton lining of his mouth. "I hear ya. Just wanted to extend an olive branch, so to speak."

"I'm not interested."

Sonic tried not to visibly deflate with disappointment. "Why not? If we're going to be working together, we may as well --"

"Not interested," Shadow reiterated harshly, and then he skulked out of the room to go… who knows where.

Sonic felt half-inclined to follow him, if only to sate his own curiosity. He glanced behind him; the others were busy stretching out their limbs and chatting amongst themselves to notice him slip away down the corridor.

The courtyard was Sonic's favourite place in the entire studio grounds. It was spacious, calm, and best of all, outside. He liked being outside. Except on rainy days when the rain would make his fabric smell like mildew and he'd be tossed into the dreaded washing machine.

For a while, he'd been unable to get to the courtyard outside of work hours; somehow a human had found the key that Sonic had swiped and relinquished it from him. 'Who left their key with the puppet?' the human had asked. The other humans shrugged their shoulders. Sonic tried his best to remain inanimate.

To see the door slightly ajar on this particular evening was a surprise. And it could only mean that Shadow had found a way outside, unbeknownst to everyone else. Had he also gotten a key? Was the courtyard where he was disappearing off to, after all this time?

Sonic had worried about rain, but the weather was clear and balmy. Crickets chirped in the grass. Streetlights cast a warm glow against the vermilion sunset. It was pleasant.

He looked around for a moment, soaking in the relaxing atmosphere, but he didn't notice Shadow immediately. That's when Sonic remembered a particular little corner tucked away just off to the side, where there was a swinging loveseat he liked to sit on sometimes. When he made his way over, he found Shadow sitting on that same loveseat, faced away from Sonic and fiddling with a box beside him.

"You come here often?" Sonic joked, and Shadow flinched, whipping around to glare at him.

"Why are you here?" Shadow growled.

"I like to come here sometimes," Sonic explained. Shadow seemed tense, his body moving in front of the box to obscure it from Sonic's view. "I used to come here a lot, but I lost the key…"

"Unsurprising," Shadow said, and then hesitated for a moment. "Did the humans take it?"

"Heh, yeah. I was never really good at hiding it. I tried hiding it in my head - y'know, the little space where they put their hand." Sonic tapped the little opening on the back of his head for emphasis. "But they found it pretty quickly. I was never able to get the key again after that."

He realised he was rambling and quickly shut his mouth. Shadow had his hand on his shoulder and a strange, disgruntled look on his face. Well, more disgruntled than usual.

"Hey, uh, is everything OK?" Sonic chanced, taking a step closer. Shadow bristled, the hand clasping down firmer as he leaned away slightly.

"I'm fine. If you've got nothing important to say, I'd like to be alone."

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"None of your business."

"What's that box next to you?" Ever stubborn, Sonic ignored Shadow's warnings and approached the loveseat, peering over the other puppet to inspect what he was trying to hide.

A sewing kit.

Shadow shot to his feet and pushed Sonic away harshly. Sonic stumbled, but the fence behind him caught his body before he could fall. He grasped his fingers into the chainlink, getting his bearings. Shadow looked mortified, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Don't misunderstand," he spoke, voice wobbling just a little. "I'm taking stock of my sewing supplies. That's all."

Sonic's eyes fell to the shoulder that Shadow continued to protect with his hand.

"Do you have a tear?"

Shadow tensed, his free hand curling into a fist. He bared his teeth at Sonic, a warning, but Sonic refused to leave. Not if Shadow was damaged. Not if he could help.

"The humans can't find out. My - my material is far too expensive to be damaged. I have to fix it before they come back."

"So, what's stopping you?"

Shadow faltered. He looked down at the grass, and then flopped back down onto the loveseat.

"I can't reach it."

Sonic blinked, stepping closer. When Shadow didn't try to push him away this time, Sonic sat next to him and softly urged him to remove his hand. The tear was small, almost unnoticeable - but it was on the back of Shadow's shoulder, an awkward spot that he definitely could not mend by himself.

Sonic offered an encouraging smile. "Well, it's a good thing you taught me how to sew, then, right?"

Shadow turned to stare at him and Sonic couldn't help but laugh at how incredulous he looked in that moment.

"You're messing with me."

"I'm not!" Sonic said through his laughter, reaching out to take Shadow's hand in his own before the other could leave. "I'm not, I promise. Do you want me to help?"

"I…" Shadow paused, as if considering the offer. He stared down at their connected hands. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Not if you're adamant about the humans not finding out."

Shadow sighed. "Alright. Fine. There's some thread in the kit."

Sonic moved to Shadow's opposite side to rifle through the box, fishing out a spool of black thread (that Shadow specifically picked out; apparently the others weren't the correct shade, although he personally could not discern the difference) and threading it through a needle.

"Remember the stitch I taught you?"

"Yeah, don't worry." Sonic sat behind Shadow and gently poked at the tear in his fabric to make sure he got the right spot. "I'm gonna start. You ready?"

"You better not do a poor job," Shadow grumbled, but didn't move. "Let's get this over with."

Sonic wished Shadow would trust him a little more, but the puppet's pride had always been a big part of him, a part that Sonic found himself adoring, despite how snappy it made Shadow sometimes.

Sonic carefully pushed the needle into Shadow's fabric and pulled the thread through. Shadow didn't fidget or tell him to stop, so he kept going: again and again, in a steady rhythm, just as Shadow had taught him. Sonic weaved a zig-zag stitch along the seam, closing it up little by little. Shadow's stuffing had poked out, so he pushed it back in with his finger as he went.

He hadn't gotten much practice, and the stitching was just a bitwonky, but Sonic reckoned he'd done a good job. Besides, with how dark Shadow's fabric was, and how small the tear had been, the stitching was barely noticeable. He knotted the thread once, twice, and then snipped it free. With an "All done!" and an encouraging pat to Shadow's shoulder, Sonic returned the items back into the sewing kit.

Shadow moved his arm around to test Sonic's work, rotating his shoulder and stretching his hand towards the sky. Sonic peered back at the stitching to check, and to his delight (and personal pride) it hadn't budged at all. It looked pretty dang secure.

"I think I did a great job, if you don't mind me saying!"

"That remains to be seen." Shadow clicked the sewing kit shut and picked it up. "As long as the humans don't find out that I got damaged."

"Why are you so worried about that, anyway?" Sonic asked, following Shadow as he got up and began heading for the studio door. "We've all gotten ripped plenty of times, but the humans always take care of us."

"Of course you have," Shadow sneered, but his voice was weak, quiet. "I am made of high-quality materials. If the humans found out, they would surely be upset and flounder about as they figure out how to fix it. I was not made to be easily broken."

Sonic hummed thoughtfully as they stepped inside and Shadow locked the door behind them. "I don't doubt it, but you're a part of the family, y'know? They would want to look after you."

"…Thank you," Shadow said after a pensive moment. "For assisting me."

"Of course, Shads." The nickname came out softer than Sonic had intended.

"If you tell anyone I was damaged, I'll put you out of commission."

Despite the threat, Sonic found himself beaming. He'd long since learned that Shadow was all bark and no bite. Well, sometimes he bit. Those teeth were not to be messed with. Even so, Sonic nodded in agreement as they made their way back to the others.

Maybe Shadow needed a little more time to settle in, but he still had a place in the group. From the day he was lifted out of his box, he was welcomed with open arms, even if he didn't see it that way. Sonic made sure to remind Shadow as many times as it took that he was wanted. That he was loved.

And, well, since Shadow had trusted Sonic to help him with such a delicate problem, maybe Sonic's words had finally gotten through to him.

Sonic sure hoped so.

[nahoney22]

i humbly ask for some wrecker smut with the prompts “Let me distract you” and “Come on, you can be louder. It’s just us.”

congrats on 4500! that’s huge!

Distractions*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Wrecker X Female Reader

word count: 2.7k

prompts:

“Let me distract you.”

“Come on, you can be louder. It’s just us.”

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Soft Smut, outdoor sex, p in v sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, creampie, explicit language, dirty talk, pet names, nipple licking/sucking, nudity, size kink, big dick, mutual pining, friends to lovers, first kiss, after care, fluff, little bit of angst to start where reader feels unfulfilled.

When Wrecker finds you in deep thought and with the feelings he has for you, maybe tonight was the perfect time to confess how he feels. Or, to even distract you.

A/N sorry for the wait - hope this is okay @yeehawgeek 💜

It wasn’t often that you found yourself in deep thought, contemplating life and what had brought you to this precise moment. Yet here you are, lying in the tall grass that bends under your weight, eyes gazing at the stars as a deep sigh parts your lips. The cool night air is crisp against your skin, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze only adds to the serenity.

Nothing seemed wrong, at least not that you were aware of, but you felt unfulfilled. Here you lay on a moon you hadn’t even heard of, accompanied by some of the best people you had ever met. Sure, things were rocky and tedious at the start, but now… life was calm. Settled. Maybe that’s what the issue was.

All the excitement of missions had given you a thrill, a sense of purpose and urgency. But now, with the thrill gone, you found yourself drifting, doing nothing with your time.

“What ya doing all the way out here?” A voice snaps you out of your melancholy thoughts, making you gasp and sit up. You instantly relax when Wrecker strides towards you, stopping at your side, his presence comforting and familiar.

“Just thinking,” you hum, brushing stray strands of grass from your clothes. “Want to join me?”

“Sure!” Wrecker lays down beside you, his large frame settling comfortably a couple of inches away from your shoulder. He tucks his arm under his head as a pillow and looks to the stars with you in a nice silence.

He was one of the best things about your life, in all honesty. There was a spark, an undeniable attraction between you both, yet nothing was ever discussed about it. You both weren’t shy to give each other cuddles here and there, and sometimes the odd celebratory kiss on the cheek that had your mind whirling. But that was it.

You notice that he’s turned his attention away from the stars to look at you, and so you follow his actions and do the same. “Is everything okay?” he asks gently, his voice soft with genuine concern.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, closing your eyes for a moment before continuing, “I’m just thinking.”

He chuckles softly. “You already said that.”

Ah, that you did. “Sorry.”

“No need. But are ya thinking about anything in particular?” His voice is a loud whisper, a sweet attempt to not break the quiet of the night.

You blink and shrug, feeling the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “I just feel like I miss things.” You start, turning your attention back to the stars, their distant light somehow comforting. “I miss life where we didn’t know what was going to happen next. Aside from the whole Omega getting captured and stuff, of course.” You say quickly, hoping it didn’t seem weird, but he nods for you to continue.

“I don’t know, Wrecker,” you sigh exasperatedly, tugging the grass out from beside you, the blades slipping easily between your fingers. “I’m just... unfulfilled.”

Wrecker is silent for a moment, his presence warm and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel that way,” he finally says, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet night. “We’ve been through a lot, and things have changed. It’s normal to miss the excitement, even if it was dangerous.”

The other boys often disregarded Wrecker’s intelligence quite a lot of the time but with you, you saw more than what he often portrayed. Just like now. His words were wise and sweet, a comforting balm.

You nod, appreciating his understanding. “I guess I just don’t know what to do with myself now that things are so... stable.”

Wrecker turns onto his side to face you, his eyes gentle and kind, reflecting the starlight. “You’re not alone in this. We all feel it sometimes. But maybe it’s a chance to find new things that make us happy.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Like what?”

He grins, his natural smile shining through and lighting up his features. “Like spending more time together, finding our own new adventures! Even if they’re not as crazy as the old ones.”

You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the night breeze. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

He reaches out, his large hand enveloping yours in a comforting hold, his touch grounding you. “We’ll figure it out.”

Looking into his eyes, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, as well as a soft flutter in your chest. “Thank you, Wrecker. That means a lot.”

As the two of you turn your attention back to the stars, basking in the tranquility of it all, you start to ponder why Wrecker had come all the way out here for you.

“So,” you start, trying to stop yourself from gushing at the thought of him looking for you, “I don’t think you came out here just to listen to me whine about my non-existent problems. Why’d you come?”

He chuckles again, his rough and large hands gliding almost gracefully over the tall grass as he turns his head to you. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright and…”

You raise a brow. “And?” you ask, noticing the almost nervous look on his handsome face.

“To see if there was anything I could do.”

“Is there anything you could do?” Your voice suddenly grows quieter as you lock eyes, a silent conversation flickering between you.

You watch as his tongue dabs his lips, an innocent gesture that makes the tips of your fingers tingle and your cheeks burn. “Let me distract you,” he finally answers after a brief silence, his tone low and somewhat... seductive.

You inhale a sharp breath. “How would you do that?”

He smiles softly, yet his eyes burn with hunger. A hunger for you. “With a kiss.”

Suddenly, you can feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, the cold night suddenly feeling much warmer. Your mind races as the unspoken attraction between you both was clearly now out in the open.

He watches you for a moment and as you give a subtle nod, slowly, he moves closer. His hand reaches up to gently cradle your face. To others, they may expect his touch to be rough and demanding but you knee Wrecker. You were already familiar with how gentle he was when you both cuddled and tonight was no exception. Gasping under his touch, you almost melt as you can feel his breath, warm, inviting and oddly minty.

Your eyes flutter closed, anticipation building as he places one hand at the side of your head as he leans over you… and then leans in.

His lips are soft, but tentative. You were fairly certain his eyes were closed too as when you gently place the tips of your fingers to his jaw, he gasps quietly as if the touch shocked him. But it was the spark between you both that ignites into something more passionate.

You respond eagerly, your hands moving finding their way to his broad and muscular shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth beneath your fingertips. His body tenses under your touch, a silent indication of his own rising desire. Propping yourself up on your elbows, it is you who imitates a deeper kiss; raw and intense.

Eventually, as you break apart for air, you look into his eyes. Both of you are breathing heavily as he asks, “Was that enough of a distraction?”

Eventually, as you break apart for air, you look into his eyes. Both of you are breathing heavily as he asks, “Was that enough of a distraction?”

It was, absolutely. Yet, being alone with him under the stars made you feel something else other than the clear love you have for him: lust.

With shy eyes, you lick your lower lip and suppress the moan as you still could taste his lips on yours and say, “What if I say no?”

He raises his scarred brow, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Was it, uh, not good enough?”

“It was,” you say swiftly before taking a leap of faith as you gently push on his shoulders, allowing him to move back onto his back again. He’s about to ask what you were doing but halts speaking as you swing one leg over the side of him, straddling him comfortably. You see the rise and fall of his chest, his hands helplessly in the air as he doesn’t quite know where to place them, and his mouth agape in awe.

“But what if I said it wasn’t ‘enough’?” you hint, head tilting to the side as you find courage in knowing what to do next, which is to slowly remove your shirt.

He watches you, eyes widening as you pull your shirt off from over your head, exposing yourself to him. It wasn’t surprising that you weren’t wearing a bra, given the late hour, maybe even the early hours of the morning when you should have been sleeping. But he didn’t care. In fact, it took him a good moment or two to remember to breathe. “You… you’re…”

But he can’t think of the words, and instead, grabs at your hips before his lips descend upon yours once again, his tongue lapping at your lower lip as it begs for entrance, which you so happily grant.

You moan into his mouth, his tongue wrapping and fighting with yours as his left hand trails up your body, cupping your breasts and gently gliding his thumb over your stiffening nipples (you’re convinced it wasn’t just the cold air that was making them so hard).

His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but arch into his hand, craving more. You break the kiss, panting softly against his lips, and then stand up, your fingers trembling with anticipation as you unbutton your pants. You slide them down slowly, letting them pool at your feet before stepping out of them, standing before him in just your panties.

His eyes roam over your body, darkening with desire. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, looking at you as if you were a deity.

You smile, feeling a rush of heat spread through you at his words. Then, with deliberate slowness, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and slide them down, exposing yourself completely to him.

His breath hitches, and you can see the raw hunger in his eyes as he palms his cock over his pants eagerly. Kriff, he looked huge. Now that’s not so surprising either.

You lower yourself back down, straddling him once more, feeling the hard length of him pressing against you through his pants. Body tingling, you began to grind your hips slowly, eliciting a deep groan from him.

“Is this what ya want babe?” He asks with a slight husk to his tone, his eyes looking down as your pussy rubs up against him.

“I do,” you whisper, entrancing him, “do you?”

“There’s nothing in this galaxy that would make me say no.” He replies, his hands moving to your hips, guiding your movements.

With careful hands, you began reaching down to unfasten his pants, your fingers brushing against the hard bulge that strains against the fabric that you then politely tug, hoping he gets the hint.

And he does. He lifts his hips to help you, and soon enough you have his pants and underwear pushed down, freeing his thick,hard and big length. Very, big.

Your eyes widen slightly at the sight, but the thrill of anticipation outweighs any hesitation. It was easily possible to wrap maybe two, three hands around his cock and maybe even have room to spare. A part of you thought maybe his large stature and muscles would perhaps be there to compensate him… clearly not.

He takes a hold of his cock, slowly stroking it as he watches you watch him. “Does it make you nervous?”

No. You were excited. Horny. Eager.

Therefore answering his question, you position yourself above him, the tip of his cock brushing against your wet folds, and slowly lower yourself down, taking him inch by inch.

The feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely, makes you moan softly, your hands resting on his chest for support. He grunts, eyes tightly closing as his hands grip your hips as he helps guide you down until you’re fully seated on him.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure.

You begin to move, slowly at first, lifting yourself up before sinking back down, setting a steady rhythm. There’s a small sting to it but each time you take him deep inside you, the stinging fades and is overridden with a wave of pleasure, and your moans grow more frequent, more desperate.

Wrecker’s hands roam your body, one hand coming up to cup your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple before he leans forward and takes it between his lips, his tongue teasing and poking it while the other rests on your hip. “You can be louder,” he rasps, his voice thick with lust as he sucks on your tits hungrily. “It’s just us.”

His words, his actions spur you on, and you let yourself go, moaning his name, crying out with each thrust you drove down on him. The friction of his cock inside you, the way he stretches you, fills you, drives you wild with need.

“Wrecker, oh, oh fuuuck,” you pant, your movements becoming more frantic as you ride him, the pressure building inside you as your pace changes from up and down to forward and back.

“You feel so good,” he growls as he leans back to allow his hips to buck up to meet yours with a demanding pace, piercing himself deeper into you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You lean down, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, your tongues tangling together as you both move in perfect harmony. The sound of your wetness, the slap of skin against skin, fills the night air.

“I’m close,” you whimper against his lips, almost embarrassed that you were so quick to cum but fuck, Wrecker was making your body tremble and making you see stars even with your eyes closed.

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” He urges, his voice a soft command. “I want to feel you cum around me.”

His words push you over the edge, and with a cry, you climax, your walls clenching around him, milking his cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Wrecker’s grip tightens on your hips, and with a deep, guttural groan of his own, he thrusts up into you one last time, his large cock pulsing as he spills himself deep inside you. The feeling of his warmth seed filling you only boosts your own high, prolonging the ecstasy.

As you both come down from the high, you collapse against him, your bodies slick with sweat. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “That was… incredible,” you murmur, your voice shaky.

He chuckles softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, it was.”

But, the feeling of the heat of the moment doesn’t end for you. You lean in for another kiss, your lips meeting softly before you pull back just enough to whisper, “I want more.”

“I have to more give,” he pants, eyes blown with a renewed desire. “Anything you want.”

He instructs you to lie back and so you climb off him and lay in the tall grass once again and this time, watch in awe as he stands and strips himself completely bare.The starlight bathes his skin, casting a soft, ethereal glow over his build. You may have looked like a deity to him but he looked like a God to you as the cool air kisses both of your skin.

He crouches down in front of you, his cock glistening with both of your combined juices as he hooks your leg with his thigh and spreads you open. He positions himself again, his tip brushing over your aching clit that makes your whole body twitch before he slots back into you with a hefty moan.

“You’re so big,” you whine in pleasure as the sensation of his cock filling you completely again is almost overwhelming.

“You can take it,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips again. “You’re doing so good.” He praises.

He locks you in, leaning over you as he begins his slow and loving ruts against your pussy.

You’re already tender but it was a feeling that had you craving more. Your legs wrap around his waist, one hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his head as you both succumb to the stars without a care in the galaxy. Maybe this was your fulfillment

All what mattered right now, was you and him.

More Wrecker Works

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[novashelby]

It Feels Like Home When You're Here~Tommy Shelby x Reader One-shot

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Mention of war, mention of sex, but overall sfw.

Word Count: 1,246

Summary: Tommy Shelby feels disconnected with everyone after the war. Everyone except you. This was a request using the prompt: "Why do I feel like I’m home whenever you’re near me?" Just know the prompt is not mine, but I can no longer find the list. I will credit it once I find it.

Please enjoy! Please consider commenting and a reblog!

War did something to boys. Took good boys…good natured, impressionable boys and turned them into hardened, difficult to do men. Tommy wasn’t any different. No matter how he wanted to think or what he knew of himself, he was no different than the others who went to France and died. Everyone died in France in one way or another. Everyone died and everyone killed. And after scurrying through the dark, rat infested tunnels with no light other than a hand held torch, nowhere felt normal. Nowhere felt like home. People he once could connect with weared thin and fizzled off, and before he knew it, the only thing that soothed him was the brown liquor filled bottle. But they weared thin, too, and he’d have to go buy a new friend. 

After a busy Wednesday, Tommy headed to the pub. It was an unusual case. In fact, it’d be unusual if he didn’t go to the pub for a drink or two. Pushing through the creaky wooden door, he skimmed over the sea of people. Every time he’d walk anywhere, there’d be a chorus of greetings. A popular man he was. But lonely, God, fucking lonely, but he’d feel pathetic to admit it. In the farthest right corner of the Garrison, John and Arthur were sharing a rum.

“Thought I’d find ya’ two here,” Tommy said, taking a crack at a poor excuse of a sarcastic joke. He sat down and whistled for a glass. Of course, it came promptly. No one dared to make a Shelby wait for anything. 

John, already two sheets to the wind, looked over at his older brother. In a slew of slurred jumbles, he asked, “and what has ya’?” Meaning, in some sort of way; how are you? Tommy couldn’t answer before the direction of conversation changed to what it always was; women, money, horse racing. John was going on about some whore he came across the previous night. “The back end on her.” He elbowed Arthur in the side who joked that he had kids to go home to.

Sometimes Tommy would join in on the banter, enjoying the occasional lightheartedness, but usually he’d half-listen and half-observe the space around while his head just slowly drifted. That particular night, he watched the barman slide down pints and poured glasses of brown liquor. 

The door swung open, the tiny bell on the frame ringing. Tommy glanced over for a second and went back to his drink when it hit him. Only men and the occasional whore walked through those doors. But her long hair and petite features stuck out like a sore thumb. Unlike the men who dressed in browns, blues, and beiges, she fashioned something lighter. A pretty lilac under a white winter coat made of mink, or so she said. He looked back over again, eyes following her. He knew why she was there and it didn’t take long for their eyes to connect.

John stopped talking and Arthur, under his breath, mumbled, “my fookin’ God.” But she was neither of theirs, Tommy thought as she approached the table. The pub followed her as she walked. John and Arthur looked up at her, but Tommy silently slid from the table and extended his hand.

“I was looking for you,” she said, but he didn’t respond. He simply took her arm with one hand, and with the other, he downed his whiskey and took out a smoke from his pocket. Together, they walked out of the pub in silence, down the dusty Birmingham street. It was a little bit before either of them spoke. Just when they hit her small dingy flat, she said, “I was going to cook you dinner, but last time you hardly touched a thing-”

“I don’t see you for dinner,” he said, taking over the key that she fumbled with in her hands. She sighed, putting her palms in the air, moving off to the side. He just wanted to feel her bedsheets against his skin. He fiddled with the door and it came undone easily. “You need a better lock-”

“When will you admit you see me for more than sex?”

“I don’t admit things very often,” he said, and they paused together in the entryway of the flat, bodies pressed. He smiled, touching her rosy rouge tinted cheek, thumb making circles. He nodded for her to continue onward, and she untangled herself from his overbearing stance. 

Her apartment was always cold, but it was the only place where life didn’t suck. That and the pub. But even the pub became lonely and dark. He took his usual spot on the sofa and when she walked by, he reached up and snaked his arms around her waist to pull her down with him. “I don’t need another drink,” he said, nose tangled in her hair, sniffing the lavender scented shampoo in her thick curls. 

“Perhaps I wanted one,” she said, twisting herself to look at him. Hearing him whisper c’mere was like music to her ears. Instantly, she rotated, putting one leg on each side of him. She straddled him as his hands rested on her hips, keeping her steady. Intimately, she placed her hands on his cheeks, thumbs rubbing circles. She chuckled, “you need a shave.”

Tommy smiled, leaning in to peck at her lips. “I’ve only shaved this past Saturday.”

“It’s Wednesday-”

“Alright, alright,” he said. “Then I’ll just get up now and-”

She pressed harder against him, snaking her arms around his neck to pull him in close. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Her lips ghosted over his ear moving to his temple, leaving a lingering kiss while his hands tickled up her back under her blouse. When his fingers worked at her bra, she let out a soft sigh. “When will it ever be about something other than sex, Thomas?” she asked, pushing away. His hands dropped, finding a new home on her thighs. They stared at one another for a few moments before continuing, “hmm? Will you ever let me in deeper?”

Tommy looked off to the side, swallowing. “It’s just hard for me right now-”

“You always say that,” she accused, grabbing his face, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “You always say that. Thomas! When is it ever not hard? It’s always going to be hard, but don’t you understand…you’re here. Other men weren’t as lucky!”

Before he could process his thoughts, he replied, “no, they were luckier.”

She straightened her back, dropping her hands to her side. Scoffing, she said, “so my brother-”

“No, no, no,” he said, stopping her before she could speak anymore. He held her close again, working around her stiffness. He rubbed his face into the crook of her neck before resting his forehead on his shoulder. “We don’t have to have sex…it’s just the way I know how to express my emotions.” 

She eased a bit, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s hard, is all. learning how to navigate you-”

“Out of everywhere, this is the only place that feels right,” he said, looking up at her. “Why do I feel like I’m home whenever you’re near me?” There was no answer for that. She didn’t know what to say because she herself couldn’t explain it. They agreed it’d never happen. That they’d stay neutral and it’d just be as it was and nothing more. But somewhere along the way, they bonded to one another. 

And neither minded.

[only-luce-the-goose]

Hiii pookie 🫶🥹

it's me again the same anon from Arthur's long fic 😂 i thought it would be nice to thank you again for fulfilling the request, they were all absolutely beautiful and I enjoyed them a lot✨,now proclaimed you one of my favorite Arthur writers ✨🥹🫶

i used to want an Arthur in my life now I NEED him 😭

Also today my mood was so bad but reading the fic distracted me a little from everyday things, thank you once again i send you a hug and kisses 🫶😚🫂💗💗

I hope you have the best days, always and forever !!!🙂‍↕️love ya boo💗

(if you didn't get enough of me, I promise that if I have any more ideas I will let you know so you can use them with your writings about other pilots)

A Bit Off

A/N: Hi Anon!!!!!

I’m so, so happy you enjoyed them and I feel privileged to be your favourite Arthur writer 🥰🥰. I’m thinking I might start writing for other drivers as well.

I swear I need an Arthur in my life too 😫. I’m sorry you weren’t feeling too well today, I’m glad my writing was able to help you feel better! 😘

And I will never get enough of you, message as much as you want!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I’ve currently got another Arthur fic and an Ollie Bearman fic in the works. I just wanted to write this little one as thank you for your kind words and requests. It’s also kind of based off how you felt today, enjoy ☺️

Arthur Leclerc x reader

Synopsis: After a bad day, Arthur just wants to make you feel all better

(He’s such a cute, lil smiley boyyyyy 😍)

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, you felt down and depressed all day for no reason. Unfortunately, Arthur wasn’t around and wouldn’t be back for another 3 days. All you wanted to do was cuddle up and watch movies with him.

You stayed on the couch, drowning in your favourite hoodie of Arthur’s, watching your comfort tv show. You heard the door at the front of the apartment unlock, keys jangling as the door was pushed open. You pulled the baseball bat out from under the couch and crept over to the wall next to the hallway.

You heard shoes being toed off, sock padded feet slowly walking down the hallways. You waited for the footsteps to come closer before you stepped out from the wall. You swung the bat.

“OHHH HOLY SHIT BABY ITS ME” Arthur screamed in his Monegasque accent. You immediately dropped the bat, “oh my god, Arty! You’re not suppose to be here for 3 days!” Arthur smirked when he said “I know. I wanted to surprise you, gorgeous”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you buried yourself in your boyfriend. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your nose pressing against his jugular as you deeply inhaled his cologne. Arthur’s hands firmly wrapped around your waist, he kissed your temple and leaned his head against yours.

He felt teardrops on his collarbone, prompting him to let go for a second. He found you with wet eyes, teardrop stains down your cheeks. “Bèbè, what’s wrong?” Arthur pouted. He raised his hand and wiped your tears. You made eye contact with him and the flood gates opened.

You weren’t sad about anything in particular, you just started babbling about anything and everything. Arthur guided you to the couch and sat down, pulling you on top of him and he laid down. Your legs ended up in either side of his body, your chin rested on his chest, your noses nearly bumping.

Arthur let you get it all out, contently listening. After you finished, Arthur extended his neck and pecked your lips. “It’s ok to feel like this, love” you kissed him again “thank you Arty” you had cried yourself to exhaustion, he could see your eyes started to droop. He pulled the couch blanket over you both as he watched you fall asleep.

“Good night, my love” he said as he kissed your nose, “I love you, bad day or good day, I don’t care.” You lazily smile and confessed “I love you” back to him, drifting off to sleep. Arthur followed you not long after.

[finniestoncrane]

shuffles in here hiii I was hoping to request KTJL!Boomer x Fem nb reader (she/they with feminine genitalia and the like, who is on the curvier side in terms of body type) who are in an established relationship and just having a fun night in together

I’m not super picky on what directions things go and honestly it could just be pwp but I would love to see the following things included in no particular order:

boomer being his usual sleazy self lol

mean but playful flirting

praise kink

squirting

overstimulation

reader being really into Boomer’s hands

mating press

i love love love your writing, the way you write boomer is so good! I hope you’re having a good day!

Messy

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.2k okey dokey i THINK i managed to cover everything, even if i did get sidetracked by the squirting!💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fingnering, squirting, overstimulation, flirting, teasing, good old fashioned fuckin

You held his hands, stretching the fingers out, holding them, placing your palm against his, before letting your fingers fall between his, pulling him to you, clutching at his hands as you pressed them to your sternum.

"I like your hands, George. They're big. Strong. And very skilled."

Flattery was alwas the way with Digger. Stroke his ego, and you got the same result as if you were stroking anywhere else on his body. In response to your compliments, he lifted his hand, taking yours with him, kissing the back of it before letting it rest back on your chest.

"Comes in handy, I suppose. There's a fair bit of you to grab, I like to make sure I get the most out of ya."

You giggled, delighting in the way he smiled wide as he stared over your body. Trying to hide your own beaming grin, you took your hand from his. When you let go of it, he walked his fingers down your body, stopping at your abdomen and grinning as you whined.

“You really that desperate for it?”

Familiar by now with Digger's brand of playful teasing, you played innocent, knowing he preferred to tease you, to see you blush.

“I’m not desperate at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

With one hand on your waist, he reached the other down under your panties, fingers splaying you open, one of them sliding between your lips to collect your slick.

“You seem pretty keen.”

Splaying you open, fingers spreading your lips, he drooled at the sight of your pussy, shockingly wet already.

"I could drown in there, and you're gonna lie and say you're not absolutely frothing, huh?"

Biting your lip, you tried to avoid eye contact with him, your blush and giggles already giving up your true feelings under his scrutiny.

"Hey, no worries, babe. Let the Captain take care of you, no judgements. I'm ready for a dirty, wet root myself."

The way his voice rasped on the words, almost growling, had you unconsciously opening your legs wider, giving him complete access to you. And he took that invitation, immediately curling his fingers up inside of you, his thumb lazily circling your clit as you began to moan, warmth spreading over you, the heat of arousal spreading.

It always felt good when George was giving you his full attention, focused on only your pleasure, his long, strong fingers stroking and fucking you, much more manageable than his cock. This felt slightly different though. You coudn't tell if it was the build up, the romantic, lazy way you had been curled up in his arms before, or if he was trying a new technique, but there was a pressure in your abdomen that was new.

And you were closer, far quicker than usual. Orgasm imminent, you clutched at the bedsheets below you, certain that George was about to make you cum in record time, his sexual expertise once again impressing you. But instead of a body clenching climax, your thighs wet with your own arousal, you let out a scream unlike anything you thought you were capable of. You gushed, streams of liquid exploding from you, splashing onto George, his chest dripping, covered in you.

“Fuck me, babe!”

“George… I’m so sorry, I didn’t even know I could-“

“You got another one in ya?”

He thrust his fingers back inside of you, free hand tapping lightly on your clit as he pumped his digits into your walls, crooked up and tapping at the exact spot that had made you gush before. There you were, writhing under his touch, skin still flushed in embarrassment after making a mess everywhere. And there he was, on top of you, grunting with exertion as he tried to recreate the explosive burst of pleasure, his body positioned in a way that meant he would be soaked, covered in you. Mouth open. Tongue hanging out. Hoping to get a taste.

“I really don’t know if I FUCK!”

A quick spurt emanated from your quivering pussy, legs shaking, body trembling as you squealed in delight. But it wasn’t enough. It was a tiny dribble, and George was intent on making a splash.

“George… I don’t think… I can’t take much more…”

“Just a little bit longer, sweetheart.”

He caught your eyes, keeping his locked in to yours.

“You can do it, eh? Make old Digger happy, huh?”

The pleading tone, the way his crooked smile made his long, hooked nose curl up slightly, made your heart flutter. It was too much. You were over the line, body convulsing, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the strain. Every one of your limbs felt like they were twitching and spasming as the continuous orgasm coursed through your nervous system. And then finally.

"That's it... good girl... what a good girl!"

With a scream, you felt your muscles relax, body falling into the mattress, your legs still kicking a little as you felt the liquid erupt from you. One quick spurt, followed by another, and then a long, splashing wave that soaked George as he leant in. Smiling wide, mouth gratefully receiving everything he could catch in it, moaning and gargling as he spat some back over his lips and down his chin.

Licking his lips, he once again caught your eyes, a predatory, hungry look glinting in his light green irises. Shuffling inelegantly on his knees, he lined himself up with your body, your legs open and resting at either side of his hips. Before you could get comfortable in that position, however, he caught you under your knees, pulling you to him, his cock resting against your cunt as he pushed your legs back, carefully and slowly, until your ass was raised and your body was pressed down to where he wanted you.

Rubbing the head of his cock along your slit, coating it in your own cum, he slid himself into you and began pumping his impressive length in and out, alread stretching you, bringing you close to yet another orgasm as you whimpered.

Everything about you in this position made his heart pound. The way your stomach folded, jiggling as he thrust, how he could see your eyes closed tight, teeth biting down on your lip, your breasts bouncing with each brutal pounding of his body into yours. Pinned down, submissive, ready for him to fill you up.

And it was equally good for you, having him take control, a little raucous, a bit dirty, like you were being used by him. The thought of that alone, that you were there to take him, for him to empty himself into, made your clit twitch, the heat in your stomach growing as you reached another climax.

"George... I think I might... again..."

"Yeah, no shit princess, I'm actually counting on it!"

He grabbed onto your hips, thumbs digging into the plush skin there to get a better hold of you as he pummelled your body, desperate to see if he could have both of you finish at the same time. He imagined that would be quite messy, and that was how he liked it.

[d-dixonimagines]

PROMPT: "Thought you'd be taller.."

I feel like I want to do this one again with a different approach, but I don't know. I envisioned it being something light-hearted and fun, so please excuse my attempt at being funny...! @darylsdelts A/N: It's not edited so there's probably typos

There was a weird buzz of energy going around the camp that you couldn't quite place. The way people whispered to one another excitedly like gossiping teenagers. Eventually you got wind that Daryl Dixon was supposed to be arriving. It was overheard on the radio when your group leader was communicating with Aaron, arranging some kind of supply drop. They had been talking for months and were finally closing on a deal to join forces and create connections.

Sure, you had heard Daryl's name before, but it was strange to see people act like it was some celebrity coming through their town, a behavior you thought was long dead when everything fell. He had been the talk for days, apparently. People telling stories about all the things they've heard he's done, even some you were sure couldn't possibly be true, like blowing up a group with a bazooka? It sounded ridiculous.

He had managed to gain a sort of reputation. He was the lone wolf you didn't mess with. People have said that he mostly kept to himself, some describing him as a grumpy old bear, and good luck if you ever got on his bad side.

You've heard he was mean and intimidating and had a permanent glare, but others say he is kind and had a softness to him. That he had a type of charm that was hard to explain. But it was all the same as rumors go; you didn't know what you were supposed to believe.

He had come to the camp a few times, but somehow you've never seen or met him yourself. It was like he was a myth. A story someone made up, and depending on which version you heard, he was either a scary boogeyman or some kind of hero.

None of that mattered, though. You were determined to find out for yourself who this Daryl guy really was, and if he was worth all of the commotion he seemed to cause.

The sun was just about to set when he and Aaron finally arrived. They were greeted with welcoming smiles and were invited to join you all for dinner. You were appreciative of the large cart of food and supplies they brought, but so far you weren't seeing anything too spectacular. He was quiet, mostly. Handing over crates and stuff, no particular look about him. He didn't look scary, there was no scowl-y expression. So many not a grumpy bear?

As the evening went on and everyone was settled, scattered about around the fire, you sat silently - continuing to watch him. When it was mostly just the two of you remaining, you decided that the silent stalking was getting you nowhere, so you took things to the next level; you approached him..

"Would you like some more?" You offered, extending the kettle of food you had in your hand. He looked up at you for a second before shaking his head, "Nah, I'm good.. Thanks." His voice was gruff, but there was a softness to it, it didn't make sense!

"I'll have some more." Your attention was brought to Larson, a guy from your group, who was sitting close by with his plate stretched out, a friendly smile on his face. Without saying a word, you took a step towards him and practically tossed the kettle in his lap, taking a seat next to Daryl, your back towards Larson.

There was a silence again, aside from the confused mumblings from Larson as he dished himself more food. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were eyeing Daryl, trying to glance at the fire every now and then, but you were failing quite miserably.

"Can I help ya with somethin'?" Daryl finally confronted you. When you didn't respond he continued. "You've been starin' me down since I got here and it's startin' to weird me out..."

You straightened up a bit and put your hands up briefly, an attempt to express you didn't mean anything by it. "I'm sorry. I'm just... trying to figure you out." "Whats'ta figure out, exactly?" he remained calm, but you could tell he had a guard up. Which was understandable.

You have a quick shrug as you tried to gather your thoughts. "The way people talk about you, you're at all what I expected." He gave a sight grunt, like where this was going all clicked. "Should I even ask what you were expectin'?" "Thought you'd be taller.." Your response surprised him a bit, causing him to let out a chuckle. Your shoulders relaxed at his reaction. He definitely wasn't a boogeyman type.

"There were a lotta things you could'a said, but I wasn't expectin' that one," he shook his head a bit and set his dish down by his feet. You could understand where he thought you were going, so many mixed reactions to him, but you were feeling more inclined to believe the positive ones, based on your current encounter with him.

"There was a lot of buzz around here when people learned you were visiting. They talk about you like you're some kind of celebrity. Which, I guess in some sense, you kind of are. With all the stuff you've done, you've made quite a name for yourself."

"Pshh.." he scoffed, "I don't buy into all that. People's opinions don't mean shit." "Even if it's good? People look up to you, from what I gather." He shook his head again. "It's all bullshit. They don't know me or the shit I've done." "We've all done things. Larson here?" you pointed your finger over your shoulder, Daryl's eyes following the direction, "the worst thing he's probably done is kill a rabbit, and that's saying something when it comes to him, and while he's probably not the best example, we all still know he's a good person."

Larson looked up from his plate, his gaze going back and forth between you and Daryl. "It was an accident..." Larson defended himself, a silent look of panic etched on his face. "The rabbit, I didn't see it, it was in the -" "You don't have to explain, Larson, it's OK. No one blames you." You cut him off before looking back at Daryl. "...Why would they blame me..?" "It was a whole thing.. but that's not the point. I'm just saying, the stuff you do makes a difference to people. The good stuff, I mean."

Daryl looked confused for a second, trying to figure out Larson's deal, but brought his attention back to you. "I dunno about any of that. I ain't tryin' to be anythin', I'm just doin' what anybody else would." You nodded, planning on keeping things at that, but there was one thing you couldn't get out of your head and needed answers on.

"I just have one question," you opened. He seemed almost reluctant to agree, but he did with a nod. "Is it true you shot a bazooka at some group? Some people say there was a group of like fifty highwaymen and you just blew them all up." He looked at you for a second like you were insane and let out a sigh. "There weren't fifty of 'em, there was only about eight.." "But you blasted them with a bazooka?" "Yeah?" he responded like he didn't understand what the big deal was. "They were a bunch'a assholes, they had it comin'."

"No, I completely get it," you let out a small laugh. "It's just a crazy thing to think about, you know? A bazooka! Where the hell would you even get one of those?" "Military truck," both Daryl and Larson answered at the same time, causing you both to look at him. "Sorry, I keep forgetting you're there." You almost felt bad. "Anyway, I should get going. It was cool to meet you," you turned back to Daryl and stood up, talking some of the empty dishes. Daryl gave a nod as you walked off.

"... The rabbit incident really was an accident," Larson chimed in after a moment of silence; he was leaning towards Daryl like he was trying to keep it between the two of them. "It was in the -" "Let it go, Larson!" Two other people in the group shouted at the same time. Larson slammed his plate on his lap in frustration as he was interrupted once more and he straightened up. Daryl sat there awkwardly in silence for a moment before getting up himself. He walked passed Larson and gave a quick sympathetic pat on his shoulder. "It's alright, buddy. I believe ya.." Daryl let out an amused scoff as he walked away to find Aaron.

[creepling]

that boy is a monster - j. slaughter / 2.6k

in contribution with THE HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompts: sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

summary: everyone comes and goes from the slaughter residence, either as survivors or stacks of meat. but as you escape and run further into the woods, johnny won't let you go that easy.

tags: DEAD DOVE - read at your own risk. smut. MINORS DNI. fem!reader. non-con. hunter/prey. knife/blood-play. descriptive injury. narcissistic johnny. fem penetration. blood hunger. choking. roughplay. slapping. kidnapped ending.

It would help to know the surroundings. Sprint the track to get to the finish line. But you’re bleeding. Your legs ache, and the tree branches are tearing at your skin. The calls of the Slaughter family echo in the distance.

Running for your life is supposed to be the escape. You’re out of the house, but your heroic end is not at a close. You have to keep running. You have to survive. And one person, in particular, will not give you up so easily.

“You’re the reason this is happening. You brought them damn kids here. You go get ‘er!” Drayton told off Johnny, waving his bloody stick towards the exit you stumbled out of.

Johnny was cool in his stance. He is cleaning his knife, sharpening its blade. He admires the glint of it in the moonlight, a sly smirk winking back at him in its reflection.

“Keep yer panties on, old man. I’ll get her,” He brushes off the Cook, swaggering towards the gate.

With his family seeing him off, Nubbie chuckles and cheers him on. Sissy claps and howls. “Bring her back fresh now, ye hear!”

Johnny was not going to share. He wants to play with his food and keep you all to himself. Once he finds you, you’re going to scream. He will have your insides, grip your flesh and suck your blood. His family will not have a nip of you. You’re all his.

The beginning of the hunt sent Johnny’s instincts into overdrive. Your shadow mystifies into the forest, and he picks up the pace to dive into the belly of the beast. He grunts as he sprints, inhaling the air. He was only human, but everything in his attitude was animalistic. A coyote in a man’s body, wanting to catch your scent, embarks on the trail you left behind and chases you until your soft flesh is between his teeth.

Deep within the sun-dried trees, Johnny halts his speed and listens to the silence. He peered his hearing for the snap of a twig, the ruffle of a leaf, anything to assume you were close by. He crouches to the earth and calculates the ground. His eye caught an indent, your shoe print heavy in the dry dirt, the heel dragged out, exposing your struggle. Johnny was mesmerised for a moment, then he advanced, tailing the track of your footprints to the direction of your hiding spot. He arrives at a dead end, cursing under his breath. He catches a look above, checking the trees, but both the trees and you are too fragile to hold weight. His eyes scan the horizon, wondering how far you have gone.

“I’m gonna find ya soon enough, sweetheart. Why don’t you come out, and we can get this over with?” Johnny called into the night, his skin tingling at the thought of you nearby.

He was closer than you thought. Tugged low in the dip of the earth, you bite the inside of your cheeks and muffle any sound of panic that threatens to burst. You may be bleeding, tired, and traumatised, but you will not give up. If he wants you to meet the same faint as your friends, he will have to come and get you.

At the deafening silence, Johnny sighs. It was long and drawn, but it soon shifted into a chuckle, and he gripped the handle of his knife tighter. “Fine, I like the challenge.”

Johnny advances, his footsteps descending to whisper when you decide to leave your hiding spot. You drag your limping body in the opposite direction, clenching your side as a cramp takes over. You look around with alert eyes, hoping to find an opening or another hiding spot if he is close. Your hope dwindles at the same scenery repeating: trees, branches, dirt. Over and over. No sounds alert you, making your eyelids droop and blur your vision. You look down at your body, your clothes drenched in blood, giving sense to your lightheadedness. The blood loss and dehydration were slowly creeping up and taking over you. Legs wobbling, making you fall.

“Come on,” You whispered, “You can do this.”

Johnny had his eyes on you. He watches you struggle, crouching within the dry branches. Your pain and fatigue amuse him, reassuring him that mortality can be handy for this line of passion. He loved a prey’s fear, how it ignites them with the endurance to keep living. Yet, the thing that is chasing them will always catch them. It can only get them so far. It lets them die with a fight still in them. People call that honour, but to Johnny, it is the thrill of the game.

It has been long enough. Johnny watches you collapse, grunting at the pain taking over, your knees buckling as you try to crawl your way further. Johnny cracks his neck and readies his blade, his heavy steps approaching you.

“I gotta hand it to ya. You got some fight in ya,” Johnny mused, towering over your struggling state.

The widening of your eyes made Johnny chuckle, tuts leaving his mouth as you began to sob.

“Come on now, I ain’t gonna kill ya. Not yet, anyway,” Johnny grips the back of your hair, yanking your head from the ground and crouching down on top of you. His legs saddle your sides, squeezing in to hold you in place. You catch the glint of his knife hovering over your throat, threatening to slice if you struggle.

“Ma mama always got at me for playing with my food as a kid. I never grew out of it. Y’know why?” Johnny presses his lips to your ear. You could now hear the husk in his voice.

“Because I fuckin’ love it,”

Your hands grip the earth, and a scream bellows from your strained throat, sirening through the trees, making birds take flight. Johnny shoves your head to the ground to silence you, pressing his blade tighter to the skin of your throat.

“You shout one more time, and I’ll cut you,” He spat, causing you to dwindle your struggle into small whimpers.

“Just kill me, please,” You plead, Johnny on top of you, detecting that you would rather be dead than be at his mercy.

Johnny enjoys having the upper hand far too much, grazing his gloved hand down your spine, lingering on the skin exposed from your summer blouse. He glances at the cuts littering your exposed arms, blood dripping from a knick on your shoulder. Johnny licks his lips in anticipation, locking his lips on your wound. You gasp, cringing at the suction from his mouth, his tongue swirling around the cut and soaking his mouth with your blood.

As if energy surged through him, Johnny groans at your taste, licking his lips dry. Your taste is sweetly metallic. He has never tasted something so pure—the blood of a lamb or a calf, laced with innocence and avoidant of bitterness. Johnny’s eyes wander down at you like the discovery of the Holy Grail. “You taste amazing.”

Johnny grips your arm and manhandles you to lie on your back, your arms feeble in your struggle. Johnny scans your body for more wounds, grunting in annoyance as most were muddy grazes. His legs add pressure to your sides, his hand nipping at the hem of your blouse.

“Keep still,” Johnny orders sternly, moving his knife to your shirt and cutting the thin fabric with the blade. You whine in defiance, but your top is torn off completely and tossed to one side. Johnny stares at the curvature of your bra, tucking his knife under the band and slicing it swiftly. Your breasts graze with goosebumps at your exposure. You squeeze your eyes shut from the humility. Johnny runs his knife down your left breast, the blunt end teasing your hardening nipple.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” He breathes out, removing his glove with the pinch of his teeth. His bare, rough hand grips your breast, making you squirm. You glance up at Johnny, the maddening of his eyes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you in place. Sweat glistens on his face. You feel warmth between your legs as Johnny’s bulge presses against your stomach.

Without warning, Johnny slices a small incision on your soft breast, making you gasp from the shot of pain. Johnny immediately locks his lips on the fresh slice, his tongue collecting your new blood, letting a groan vibrate against you. He sucks your breast as he would with your nipple, except his infatuation is solely on your blood. Your fingers lace through his hair, and you attempt to yank him away, but he points his blade quickly to your throat.

“Move your hand, or I’ll cut you open,” Johnny threatens, pressing the blade hard, alerting panic within you.

“I can’t- I can’t do this, please,” You beg, “I want to go home,”

“Is this not want you want, darlin’?” Johnny teased, “Your cunt says otherwise.”

His head motions down and between your legs, sliding his fingers along the denim fabric of your shorts. Your throat hitches, and your legs tense, locking eyes with the darkening stare from Johnny.

“You want this, I know you want this,” Johnny mutters against his lips, “Let me make you feel good. I need this, darlin’, you gotta give yourself to me.”

His lips lock roughly with yours, his kiss hard - possibly laced with a lingering passion. You taste your blood on his tongue. You moan unexpectedly.

“See? You taste so good. Let me taste you more,” Johnny said as if he were asking, but you know you have no choice.

The sound of panic bubbles in your throat as you feel Johnny’s hands unbutton your shorts, yelping as he tugs the tight fabric down your legs. He crawls his fingers under your pants, catching your slick cunt with the tip of his fingers, collecting your wetness. Johnny groans, reaching his fingers to his lips and licking your juices. Just as sweet as your blood, warm and intoxicating.

Johnny grinds his hips down onto you before unbuckling his jeans, tossing his belt to your eye level. Your eyes trail to the sky, your mind dissociating at the sound of his jeans undone. Johnny preys your legs wider apart with his thighs, the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“You’re so wet for me, darlin’. Still sure you don’t want this?” Johnny’s pride swells at your defeat, pupils dilated at the sight of yours glazed and lost.

“I would rather be dead,” You said airily, almost inaudible. Johnny narrows his eyes, power swelling in his muscles. He wants you to beg for his cock or mercy; it does not matter.

Without warning, Johnny thrusts his cock inside, and pain shoots up your spine. He was big, more significant than you have ever taken, and he was stretching you out. You squeeze your eyes shut, and the tears trapped in your waterline pour down your cheeks. You silence the yelps filled with pain to adjust to the horrible feeling. But your cunt was wet, wet enough for Johnny to thrust deeper inside you and hold his length firmly inside you.

“Fuuuck,” Johnny groaned. Your walls clenched around his cock, and his hands grip the sides of your waist. “Sucha tight little pussy,” Johnny chuckled.

You shift your body back and forth to adjust to the pain, but it paralysed you, and Johnny drilled you deeper into the ground with the weight of his body. The cool earth stings your wounds and gathers in the grooves of your skin. It is disgusting. It is revolting. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Fuck you,” You spit at Johnny, manifesting your cunt to grow teeth and bite his cock clean.

Johnny furrowed his brows at your revolt, burning a glare to your core. “The fuck you say to me?” Johnny smacked your face, stunning you, but you force eye contact.

“I said fuck you, you fucking-“ Your rage stopped short at the shuddering pain shooting through you. Johnny digs his knife into your side, toying with an open wound. You squirm, scream, try to pry him off you, but his other hand pins your wrists above your head, and his cock is stuffed deeper inside you.

“You really think talking to me like that is a good idea?” Johnny scoffs, watching the pain in your expression with perverted fascination. “Such a stupid ‘lil brat. I need to teach you a lesson.”

The pain melted into numbness. Your eyes drift further away from reality, and Johnny amps his stamina. It seemed neverending, his cock pumping into your cunt, the depth of his thrusts consistent. Johnny’s body towers over you, his knife tossed to the side. It proved useless as your body grew limp, the strength of Johnny’s arms pinning you in place enough to restrict your escape. No more were you retaliating to Johnny’s dominance.

“That’s it, good girl. Take it,” Johnny grunted, but he was not satisfied with your reaction. Lying there as you get fucked dumb, staring into space. He needs you to be compliant, to be grateful. Johnny tugs your hair and forces your gaze onto him, bathing in your bewildered stare.

“C’mon girl, I know you want this. Say how much you want it,” Johnny demands, continuing to rut into your pulsing cunt.

“I-” It was hard to string words together, but you had nowhere to look except deep in Johnny’s hunter eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Say it, fucking say it,” Johnny grew impatient, smacking his fingers over your cheeks, hoping that knocked sense into you.

“I want you, Johnny,” You sobbed, mesmerised by his insanity.

“Yeah, you fucking do. Start thanking me for fucking you so good,” Johnny enfolds his cock deep inside, holding it in place until you speak what he wants to hear.

“Thank you,” You swallow the lump in your throat, “You’re so good at fucking me. I want you to keep fucking me.”

Swelling with pride, Johnny exhales a deep groan and continues to drill into you, picking up the pace. He felt his climax ascending from his core, gazing at the bounce of your tits, your plump skin covered in the blood he poured from you. He bites the inside of his cheek.

“I’m so close, darlin’. Fuuuck,” Johnny wraps his callous hand around your throat, suppressing your air flow until you see stars.

Johnny rutted his cock to ride his high. You feel the strips of warmth melt from your slit as he pulls out, his pants hot and misty against your neck. Your eyes trail over to Johnny, buckling his jeans and quickly putting on your underwear and shorts.

“Sorry about your blouse,” He mutters, removing his tank top and putting it on you. There is no point in convincing yourself he did it out of the kindness of his heart, as it is to carry you back to the place you tried to escape from and not make the rest of the family suspicious.

Johnny lifts you and tosses your body over his shoulder, your mind and body too exhausted and petrified to wiggle from his grasp. “Let’s take you back home,” He says.

Home. That place was not your home. But to Johnny, he is making it your home. There goes the days of elaborate escapes, deception and retribution. He will have you wrapped around his figure. He shall convince you that no one else cares for you. Only he will protect you, care for you, and love you. 

Welcome to the family. 

[coff33notforme]

Atsv characters reaction to you calling them baby girl

A/n: Just silly little headcannons because this prompt has been living in my head rent free, also I’m adding Atsv to my writing list so feel to request headcannons. Pairing: Pavtri, Gwen, Hobie, and Miguel and Gn reader (Separately, Platonic or Romantic, just random bullshit I don’t know, headcannons )

Gwen: You’d just returned from an incredibly draining mission, your body ached with each tense step you took

But as soon as you saw Gwen leaned over one counter tops in dining hall you couldn’t help but feel a childish joy bubble up from in your chest

Wrapping your arms around her waist as you embraced her with a smile you whispered 

“How’s my baby girl doing today?”

And she fucking freezes, your what?

You had never called her anything like that before, she can’t help but feel a smile of confusion creep it’s way onto her face

“What, what did you just call me?” 

She asks with a smile 

She’s not mad at all, just confused as to what brought this on, but after you repeat it she shakes her head with a breathy laugh as she turns to hug you

She doesn’t really mind the nickname, I mean it’s not like she’s in love with it, but she finds your strange nature oddly endearing

Whenever you use it In front of others though, lord have mercy, she’ll do that thing where she freezes up and her eyes go wide as she tries to cover up what you were saying to her

Hobie and Pav tease the shit out of her

One time just to test the waters you used the name In front of Miguel, when I tell you she froze, I mean like a deer in headlights as she turned to you with the biggest glare she could offer

Miguel only scowls at the two of you as he rubbed his temple with a frustrated sigh

“Y/n, Gwen, at least try to keep this professional.”

She wouldn’t talk to you for two weeks after that

But once her anger had subsided she found herself getting used it too it

Pavtri:

You were in the kitchen, bent cookie recipe with furrowed brows as your eyes scanned the paragraph of instructions your eyes fell upon one particular ingredient 

Sugar

How could you have forgotten to buy some? With a groan you shifted your body to face Pavtri who had been laid out on the couch watching you work for the past hour of so, he looked over to you confused as to way you seemed so distressed 

“Hey, Baby girl?” 

You called out to him in only the sweetest tone, he couldn’t fight the smile that managed it’s way onto his now brightly grinning face

“Yes? My prissy pissy poo poo bear?”

At his ridiculous nickname, you couldn’t help but to burst out with a loud fit of laughter, as you clutched your stomach you turned back to Pav

“What, did you just call me?”

“What did you call me?” 

He shot back with a lopsided smile 

From then on anytime you used the nickname he only racked his brain for something ten times as ridiculous as what you had called him

You’ve compiled a list of all the weird shit he’s said

Anytime he does this you let out a soft snort and a quiet fit of giggles following this, and this only encourages Pav to keep going, he’s addicted to the sound of your laughter

But honestly he loves the nickname, the idea of him being yours and yours only, makes his heart flutter 

Hobie:

The idea had come to you a long time ago, you had to admit, that you found the idea of calling Hobie baby girl, was at least a little funny to you if not incredibly tempting 

With a shit eating grin crawling up onto your face, you’d found Hobie in his room, tweaking his electric guitar as he sat on his bed

His head shot up at he noticed your frimillar  figure slinking through his door, he offered you a lazy smirk as he placed his guitar to his right as he opened his arms for you

“How ya been doin’ love?”

He drew out, you felt your smile only widened as you returned his embrace 

“Not too well without my baby girl.”

You teased as you placed yourself onto his lap, kissing his cheek with a hum

“Damn Right.”

Just accepts it, baby, he’s whatever you want him to be 

Malewife, babygirl, you name it he’s yours 

He just loves you call him yours, and if you want he’ll call you the same 

Miguel:

It was a dare, it was a dare, fucking Peter B Parker would be the death of you

Miguel was right there, this was all you had to do before you could leave, this was it, it was only for a moment and then you were gone

Miguel sat alone in his office, his head propped up in one arm as his eyes tiredly drifted through the monitor screens, with signature pout plastered to his face 

With a deep breath, you turned and shot Peter one last glare as he smiled to you offering you a encouraging thumbs up as you stepped into

Miguel’s office, Miguel slowly turned his office chair as he looked to you with a bored look on his face

“Do you want something, Y/n.” 

He spat, he didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh but as he saw you wince slightly at his tone he couldn’t help but sigh, as he ran his hand through his messy hair

“What is it?”

He asked slightly softer than before, you drew in a deep breath as you approached him cupping his face with one hand as you kissed his other cheek

“Nothing much, just wanted to see my baby girl.”

You muttered against his skin

Miguel tensed up as soon as those words left your lips

“What the fuck did you just call me.”

At first you froze, you didn’t know if he was going to blow up, but much to your surprise

Miguel pushed you away as he quickly turned away letting out a string of irritated groans and growls as he held his face in his hands

He was so fucking glad you couldn’t see what an effect your words had on him, his face had glown bright red 

There was no way, he actually fucking liked that, this only caused him to growl louder which had you flinching 

“Get out!” 

He barked which had you scampering out of his office as fast as possible, he needed to cool of now, but he was definitely going to make it up to you later

————————————————————

Requests are open teehee

[ghostboneswrites2]

Drabble time!! (Is this considered a drabble????)

Prompt: Hair's normal

18+ MDNI || Warnings: mild age gap (feel the need to specify reader is not underage)

        You were too young. He always had to tell himself that, every time you licked your lips in the dry heat or bent over unassumingly to pick something up. The two of you had been alone so long, walking through the forest, making fires, killing and eating things. The routine was so mundane it could drive anyone mad. The only thing that kept him from putting an arrow through his skull was the simple fact that he didn't know how long you'd make it on your own.         But, on days like this, when it got so hot outside you'd wear those short shorts, he struggled. On this particular day you were shaving in a little stream. He'd set up a camp there a few days ago. The two of you were growing so tired and sore from the weeks of endless travel.         "Why you still doin' that anyway?" He asked.

        "What? Shaving?" 

        "Yeah. Ain't like ya got anyone to impress."

        "I don't know." You shrugged. "Just makes me feel normal, I guess."

        "Hair's normal."

        "Is it bothering you or something?" You smirked. You saw the way he'd look sometimes but you never said anything. You were sure it was hard to be alone for so long, not having any of his urges satisfied, and having to keep his eyes off of the 20-something year old girl he was stuck traveling with. You always took comfort in the fact he'd  never try anything, and tried to save the short shorts for the days where you couldn't stand to be in jeans. Plus, you were letting your jeans dry at the moment, still damp from the wash you gave them the night before.

        "Nah." He shook his head in defense. "Just weird. Who the hell shaves when they ain't even got food in their belly every day? Fucked up priorities is all."

        "Whatever." You giggled.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Take My Hand, We'll Be Fine (Promise I Won't Let You Down)

A/N: did you really think I could go all of @sjmromanceweek without posting some Nessian? I just think there's no better romantic gesture than telling your hot neighbor to dump her piece of shit boyfriend, ya know? 😉 Special shout-out to @dustjacketmusings for giving me this prompt!

Read on AO3

They’re fighting again.

Cassian swipes up his television remote from his coffee table, muting the game currently playing. He doesn’t even need to prick his ears or listen closely to make out the muffled voices filtering through the wall to his right. Doesn’t need to try hard to recognize the rough, clipped voice and the more feminine, cool tone that answers. He can’t quite make out the words being said, but it’s easy enough to guess. It doesn’t help that this is practically the norm for the apartment next to his.

He still remembers the first time he met his next door neighbor, Nesta Archeron, the day she moved in. Even in that moment, even with her hair messy, her cheeks pink, and a large box hefted in her arms, she had been the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen in his life. Her face was all sharp, beautiful lines, high cheekbones and arching eyebrows. Her eyes had been a stormy, piercing blue that had enraptured him as soon as their gazes met. Her pretty pink lips twisting into a scowl had him wanting to drop to his knees right there in the hall, fire blazing through his chest to meet that expression.

Could anyone really blame him for being a goner from that moment on?

He’d found any and every excuse to see her again, to talk to her again. Casual run-ins in the hall, in the lobby. Getting the mail at the same time. Going down to the laundry room at the same time. Anything to see her roll her eyes at him. To see her give that expression that he’s deemed her I Will Slay My Enemies look. Anything for the game of back and forth he built with her full of quips and retorts that always leave him wanting more.

Anything to see her smile. To hear that beautiful breathy melody of her laugh. To watch the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. To catch that softness that takes over when she talks about her friends or her family. Every tiny piece she hands over Cassian tucks away close to his heart. And every interaction, no matter how small, no matter how much time passes in between, leaves him yearning for more.

And he’s learned a lot about Nesta through those interactions. He learned that she has two sisters, one who lives in the city and another who lives in the countryside. He learned she’s a damn good lawyer and definitely his first call if he ever needs to be bailed out of jail. He learned that she’s a terrible cook and has a serious affinity for ordering takeout most nights. He learned that she has a serious book addiction if the endless bookstore packages are any indication.

And he learned that she has the worst boyfriend Cassian has ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Cassian still isn’t sure how Tomas was able to get a woman as beautiful and as amazing as Nesta to agree to a single date with his sorry ass, let alone agree to be his girlfriend. The bastard clearly doesn’t know what he has, how lucky he is. That a woman like Nesta Archeron is incomparable. And yet, Cassian has seen the way his eyes have wandered to the blonde in 4C’s ass. Has witnessed the unimpressed, bored expression he wears when Nesta is speaking. Has heard the unnecessarily rude and sometimes cruel words he flings carelessly at Nesta.

The last one in particular always has Cassian’s blood boiling, dark tendrils constricting through his chest until he’s glaring daggers at the man in question any time he sees him in the apartment building. He wishes he and Nesta were more than just neighbors just so he could tell her what a piece of shit her boyfriend is. Wishes it wouldn’t be weird if he suggested she dump him.

He wishes he could tell her how he really feels, how he swears he’s already falling for her despite their limited interactions. How he fears that there will never be anyone else for him. Wishes he could show her what it’s like to be with a real man, one who respects her. One who genuinely cares about her and isn’t afraid to show her, to shout it from the rooftops. He’d treat her right, treat her so much better than Tomas ever could.

A door slams next door, and Cassian is on his feet in a moment. He glances around his apartment, looking for something he can quickly grab as an excuse. The last time he had heard a crash come from next door, his worry and concern had consumed him enough to send him propelling out of his own apartment and banging his fist against Nesta’s door. But things had been awkward and tense when Nesta answered the door seemingly alright, and when Tomas demanded to know what he was doing, Cassian had ended up stumbling over his words, too distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes swimming with questions. So this time, Cassian ties off his half full trash bag and hauls it up out of the bin.

“Will you hurry up?” Tomas’s voice reaches Cassian as he yanks open his front door. “You know that I don’t like to be late to Sullivan’s, or else we won’t get the best seats at the bar.”

“Maybe if we went to a proper restaurant where you can make a reservation instead of the same dive bar every week, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Nesta answers him, and even before he lays eyes on her, Cassian can perfectly picture the way she must be rolling her eyes.

“Maybe if you didn’t take so long doing your stupid fucking hair–”

Tomas’s words trail off when he notices Cassian standing in his now open doorway. Already, the man looks annoyed at his presence, jaw clenching with a restraint scowl. The sight has an easy smirk tugging up Cassian’s lips, how fast he’s able to garner such a reaction, but he only has eyes for Nesta.

She has on a short, dark blue dress, black flower lace overlaid on the silky fabric. Black heeled boots further elongate her legs and the skin on display, the tantalizing lines of her collarbones highlighted by the dress’s neckline. Her hair is styled in her preferred braided crown, but a few strands curl around her temples and frame her face, and Cassian knows he’d give anything to curl one of those strands around his finger. With the pink dusted across her cheeks and mascara heightening the icy blue of her eyes, he has to swallow hard and clear his throat before finding his voice again, struck dumb by the beauty of her in front of him.

“Nesta,” Cassian greets, finally flicking his gaze back to the other man in the hall. “Tommy.”

“It’s Tomas,” Tomas snaps back, his sneer only deepening when Cassian shrugs in response. “What are you even doing?”

Cassian’s smile is all mocking and teeth, holding up the trash back in his hands. “Just taking out the trash. Maybe Nesta should consider doing the same.”

Whether Tomas understands the double meaning or not, Cassian doesn’t get a chance to find out. Nesta steps forward, linking her arm with her boyfriend’s with a quiet, murmured reminder that they’re running late. They continue down the hall, Cassian watching them until they vanish around the corner, until he hears the quiet ding of the elevator.

He closes his front door with a soft sigh, glancing consideringly back toward his television still playing the game, but then an idea hits him. It’s a risk, most definitely stupid, but maybe he’s always been a bit reckless. Rushing back toward his living room, Cassian grabs his phone where he left it, opening up the text chain with his family.

Anyone down for drinks tonight? Found a new bar we should try

~ * * * ~

Sullivan’s isn’t much to write home about as far as bars go. Posters and photos litter almost every free inch of space on the walls, a pool table set up to the right, and round high top tables and bar stools arranged around the rest of the space. The bar juts out from the wall in the center of the room, bottles lining the shelves. It may be the nicest dive bar Cassian has ever set foot in, but it’s still a dive bar, the stench of beer and sweat heavy.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Azriel sighs from Cassian’s right.

Cassian turns toward his brother, but Azriel’s attention is elsewhere. When Cassian follows his gaze, he finds Nesta and Tomas sitting at one of the high top tables. Her back is ramrod straight, fingers curled tightly around the glass of wine sitting primly in front of her, but Tomas doesn’t seem to notice. He sips casually from a beer bottle, his attention focused more on the patrons around him.

“Isn’t that your neighbor?” Mor pipes up from Cassian’s left. “The one you’re in love with?”

“Is Nesta here?” Cassian asks innocently, refusing to meet either Azriel or Mor’s gaze. “What are the odds of that?”

“If I’m playing wingman tonight, you owe me so many drinks,” Azriel grumbles with a shake of his head.

“Drinks on Cassian?” Mor teases, looping her arm with Azriel’s and dragging him toward the bar. “I like the sound of that. Let’s order all top shelf.”

Cassian rolls his eyes good naturedly, but he follows behind his family, buying the first round of drinks after all. He lets Azriel and Mor get settled, lets them chat about their respective weeks and jobs, and all the while, he stares across the bar at Nesta and Tomas. He doesn’t understand how anyone can sit across from Nesta Archeron and ignore her. How they can want to do anything other than bask in her presence. How they could care more about a freshly out of college girl clearly working the pool table just for free drinks.

“So, I need a favor,” Cassian begins, interjecting into the conversation swirling around him.

“I’m surprised you waited this long,” Azriel remarks dryly.

“Very funny,” Cassian fires back, turning his attention to Mor and offering the blonde his best, most winning smile. “I need you to go flirt with that guy over there.”

“Seriously, Cass?” Mor huffs, her face exasperated.

“Please? I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night. The best wine they have. However many glasses you want. Especially if you can somehow make an accident happen that gets him away from the table.”

Mor narrows her eyes, scrutinizing him, her eyes dancing briefly toward the table across the bar. “This Nesta better be worth it.”

“Trust me,” Cassian assures her quietly, unable to stop from smiling. “She is.”

Cassian isn’t sure what Mor sees on his face, but her expression softens. She rolls her eyes fondly and swipes up her glass of wine, slipping off her bar stool. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she strides her way over to Nesta and Tomas, plastering on a wide, flirtatious smile. It’s certainly entertaining for Cassian, watching his friend work. She twirls the blonde strands of hair around her fingers, places her hand on Tomas’s arm, makes a big show of laughing loudly at whatever is said. It would almost be comical if Tomas wasn’t eating up every second.

“Come on, Mor,” Cassian mumbles under his breath. “Hurry it up, already.”

“You really need all the help you can get, don’t you?” Azriel sighs, setting his now finished drink on the bartop.

Azriel steps around Cassian and heads toward the table as well. He makes eye contact with Mor, some sort of silent agreement passing between the two, and then Azriel is walking behind her. His arm brushes along her back, Mor’s cue to fake stumbling forward a step, her half full glass of wine spilling right across Tomas’s shirt and pants.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tomas’s voice carries even to where Cassian is sitting. “Do you have any idea how expensive this shirt is?”

Tomas storms off toward the bathrooms, Mor hot on his heels and offering overly innocent apologies. She winks at Cassian as they pass, and Cassian has to stifle a laugh into his hand to keep Tomas from noticing him. One last glance to make sure Tomas is gone and the coast is clear, and Cassian wastes no time cutting his way across the bar and sliding into the now vacated seat across from Nesta.

“Some date, huh?” Cassian jokes lightly, Nesta’s attention snapping to him.

“Cassian… what are you doing here?”

Despite the question, Cassian swears he sees Nesta’s shoulders start to relax from where they’re pitched up near her ears, swears he sees what looks suspiciously like relief flood through her eyes. He lets it fuel the hope swarming and twisting in his gut, the warmth blooming between his ribs and tightening around his heart like a golden thread. He knows he could easily play the whole thing off as a coincidence, shrug the question away with mentions of his family and their drinking habits.

But he knew the gamble he was taking by crashing Nesta’s date tonight, and maybe, this is his chance. His chance to show Nesta just how much she already means to him. To prove to her that he can treat her better.

“Your boyfriend sucks,” Cassian says rather than answer her question.

Nesta blinks a few times in surprise, eyebrows pinching slightly. “What?”

“Tomas. He sucks ass, and you should absolutely dump him. I’m serious, Nes. You deserve so much better than his sorry excuse.”

“You seem quite sure of that, do you?”

“Yeah, I do. I might not have known you very long, but I know that you’re beautiful, and you’re smart, and you’re witty and passionate, and you care so much about your sisters and your friends. And you deserve someone who cherishes you. You can do so much better than that piece of shit.”

Cassian’s words hang in the space between them, the rest of the bar fading away into nothing until it’s just him and her and the sparks and electricity charging the air around them. Nesta stares at him like she’s never seen him before, like no one’s ever said things like that to her before. It sends cracks ricocheting like icy claws through his chest. Especially, when Nesta drops her gaze away from him, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass.

It leaves him wanting to find whoever in her past has her unsure, wanting to go track down where Tomas has vanished to and punch him in the face for making her curl into herself. It makes his determination to show her what it could be like harden even more, makes him want to spend the rest of his life properly cherishing her if she’ll let him.

“I don’t know about all that,” Nesta offers, her voice quiet.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Cassian asks instead, reaching his hand across the table and skating his fingertips across the back of Nesta’s hand, drawing her attention fully back to him.

Nesta sighs softly. “Cassian—”

“Let me prove it to you. Prove what it could be like, should be like. Prove what a good date is. Prove that I’d treat you better.”

Nesta thinks about it for a moment, emotions flitting through those blue eyes faster than Cassian can decipher. But then Nesta is slipping out of her seat and grabbing her purse, turning away from him. Cassian’s heart sinks through his feet and the floor, and it takes all his willpower to keep his disappointment off his face as he watches her.

“One date,” Nesta tells him, looking back at him expectantly.

“One date is all I need, sweetheart,” Cassian assures her, jumping out of his own seat. “Now, let’s get out of here before Tomas realizes what’s hit him.”

Cassian grabs Nesta’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and leading her out of the bar. Her hand feels right in his, his fingers curled around her own, their palms pressed together, and Cassian knows in that moment that he has no intention of ever letting go again. He uses his free hand to dig his phone out of his pocket, working quickly to get everything ready, to make everything perfect for this opportunity, but he’s still nervous by the time they arrive at their destination.

Nesta’s steps pause as she glances around them. “Our one date is going to be at our apartment complex?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Cassian asks, holding open the door for her.

“You sure are asking a lot for this one date.”

“And the night is still young.”

Cassian offers her a wink for extra good measure, earning a laugh from Nesta in return. The sound is light and easy, the melody wrapping around Cassian’s limbs as surely as it wraps around his heart. It might just be his favorite sound, the way her blue eyes light up along with the reaction his favorite sight, and he can’t wait to draw even more laughs out of her.

He leads the way back up to their floor, all of the paper and plastic bags he expects waiting right outside his apartment door. He sends up a silent prayer to the Mother in thanks that so far everything is going to plan.

“What’s all this?” Nesta asks, eying the bags as well.

“Well, I noticed you order a lot of takeout,” Cassian explains, gathering up the different bags and unlocking his apartment door.

Nesta scoffs even as she steps inside and into his apartment. “Are you judging me for being a terrible cook?”

“Never. I’ll have you know I actually love to cook, so we’re a good pair, but I didn’t really have time to prepare anything tonight, so I figured I’d order everything I’ve worked out to be your favorites based on what you seem to order the most,” Cassian explains, setting all the bags down on his kitchen counter and beginning to pull the different containers out. “Crab rangoon from Bar Bao. Butter chicken and basmati from Urban Tandoor. Garlic breadsticks and ravioli from Tony’s. California rolls from Black Dragon. And triple chocolate cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.”

Nesta is silent, staring wide-eyed at all the food, at him, so Cassian turns to grab plates just to give his hands something to do. When she still hasn’t said anything, he clears his throat awkwardly, pushing a hand up and through his hair.

“So…” Cassian starts, handing a plate over to Nesta. “What do you think?”

“I think you might just get a second date after all.”

—

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[electronicwitchcollection]

Shinji Smut

Sorry for the length, I find it impossible to write anything under 4k 😅

also, sorry for the filth 😂

please enjoy 🥹

You meet Shinji Hirako in a bar in soul society

Prompt: "we're not doing this standing, there's. Perfectly good bed right there"

prompt 2: "good girl"

———————————————————

Ignoring the shouts from souls selling their wears or their company, you walked down the street with a particular destination in mind. Nestled deep in Inuzuri, more fondly named "the pleasure district" in the South Rukongai was a bar. The hanging dog was a dingy little place situated just off the beaten path, a little hidden gem known for its unique music and cheap drinks.

Side stepping a rowdy group of Shinigami, well on their way to being pleasantly drunk, you ducked your head, letting your hair fall to cover your face to cover your identity until you made it to the inns wooden door. Taking a moment to smooth your hair back into place and pull down the hem of the tight black dress you were wearing, before you pushed open the door.

The unique, upbeat music washed over you as you entered, flowing around you and pulling you in deeper to the soulful melody. Squeezing past patrons merrily drinking and smoking, you pushed your way across the sticky floor towards the bar. Hopping up onto a free stool, assuring your dress was still covering you, you gazed across the room.

Stale smoke, cheap beer and the slight undertone of sweaty bodies clung to the fabric of the few chairs and worn down carpet. The lights were dimmed, assisting the atmosphere the music was creating. Loud conversations Fought to be heard over the music, the body heat of dancers shamelessly grinding on each other warmed the small place, causing your cheeks to flush delicately.

"what can I get yer darlin?" The raspy voice of the inns landlady caught your attention from across the bar. A short woman with wild, curly blond hair, well know for her equally short Patience. The no nonsense woman easily handled the rowdy drunks visiting her establishment

"whisky over ice please" you ask with a big smile. You watched as she fixed up your drink, measuring by eye a large amount of the deep honey coloured whisky before expertly sliding it to a stop next to you. You handed over the coins with a thanks, before she moved on to the next thirsty customer. The chill from the glass sinked into your palm as you raised it to your lips, smooth, oaky nectar lit up your tongue, leaving a slight burn in your throat as you swallowed.

Movement caught your attention in your peripheral, moving up next to you. You lowered your drink to the bar, nursing your drink in your hand as you turn to the stranger standing close to you. His thigh pressed up against your legs, crossed at the ankles as he gave you a big toothy grin. You lick away the moisture left from your drink from your lips as you regard the stranger.

Taller than you, he had a slight frame, wearing dark trousers and an deep orange button up. The black tie cut against the colour, pulling the eye. He had jaw-length blonde hair with an asymmetrical cut at the fringe. Soft brown eyes looked into your own as he spoke

"what's a pretty girl like ya doin' in a place like dis?" His thick Kansai dialect sounded enticing, though you weren't impressed with the pick up line youve heard a thousand times over. Smiling coyly, you avert your gaze to your drink, bringing it up for another slow pull, you didn't notice the way he watched your every movement

"how many times have you used that pick up line?" You ask quietly, making him lean in to hear you, his grin only widened

"how many times today or..?" He trailed off playfully, animatedly waving his hand around as he spoke

You nod in your correct assumption "and how many times has it worked?"

"now that depends" he said, leaning his elbow on the bar to assist him leaning in closer "is it working with ya?"

You lean in, playful smile on your face. A slight tilt of your head had him leaning in closer "im afraid not" you say, before leaning back into the stool to create some distance. His smile never wavered though his eyes shone with mischief. The woman behind the bar interrupted your electrically charged flirting, asking the stranger for his drinks order. You watched as the stranger leaned over the bar, talking to her in a familiar way. The loud music drowned out what he had said that made her laugh before turning to fix his drink.

Turning his attention back to you, he leaned against the bar, hips jutting out seductively. "Do ya believe in love at first sight? Or should I walk past again?"

You cocked an amused eyebrow at him, fighting back the chuckle that wanted to escape. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction, not just yet.

"that was as bad as the first" you told him as the bar keep reappeared, sliding over the new drink before disappearing. The man chuckled, shaking his head gently as he grabbed his drink.

"yer a hard woman to please" he accused you, peering at you over the rim of his drink.

"do you often find it hard to please women?" You couldn't help the chuckle that time as he choked on his drink. Swallowing some the wrong way, he coughed harshly, thumping his chest a few times with his fist. The satisfaction was clear on your face as he calmed himself to give you a dirty grin.

"I'll win ya over, mark my words" you notice the flash of silver on his tongue as he spoke, you wondered how it would feel sliding over your own. "There's plenty more where that came from" he gave you a wink before pushing off against the bar and disappearing into the crowd

———————————————————

The music changed, the new faster tempo song had you dancing slightly in your seat, shoulders swaying to the beat.

"you must me exhausted" the Kansai dialect muttered from behind you making you jump. You turned your head to see the man smirking behind you, eyes followed his as he walked around your stool, coming to a stop, leaning against the bar in front of you. "Youve been running through my mind all night"

"how long did it take you to come up with that one? " You teased before finishing the rest on your drink. Noticing you push your empty glass away, the joker caught the attention of the woman behind the bar, holding up two long fingers

"now that would be tellin' doll" he returned his gaze to you, offering a wink. "Is it working yet?"

"now that would be telling', doll" you poorly Mimic his accent, getting an answering grin in return. The hostess returned, putting two drinks down in-front of the man, waving him off with an amused "it's on the house" when he tried to pay

"what's yer name?" He asked you, pushing one of the drinks your direction

Accepting the drink with a thankful nod, you sample the nectar before offering it "YN" 

"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl" you rolled your eyes playfully at the cheesy line. "Yer not gonna ask mine?"

"I know who you are, Captain Hirako"

"Shinji" he insisted, not phased that you already knew his identity "It’s kinda slutty when girls give blowjobs to strangers, so let’s get acquainted first aye?"

You snort at the change of direction his lines had taken, your cheeks flushed at the dirty words, teeth teased your bottom lip "and who said I would be giving you a blowjob Captain?"

"I've got crystal balls" He grinned, pleased you were still playing along "they let me see into the future"

"you should get them checked out, they seem to be broken"

"ya offering to check em out?" His lecherous eyebrow wiggle got you laughing. Shaking your head amused you pick up your neglected drink and enjoyed the taste "what devision are ya in?"

"8th, Captan Kyoraku" 

"I shoulda guessed, Kyoraku always has the prettiest girls in his division " he rolled his eyes good Naturedly. The 8th was an almost all female division, your Captain famous for his shameless flirting and avoidance for paperwork. While he had flirted with you on occasion you've always felt that it was nothing more than a way to put you at ease. It was just who he was.

"careful now, you're sounding jealous" you smirk over the rim of your glass

"oh I'm terribly jealous" he said while his eyes slowly raked over your form, taking in each and every curve hugged by the black dress you were wearing. You blushed under his hungry gaze, squirming slightly on your seat as your thighs subconsciously squeezed together "Im not surprised he don't get no work done with ya about the office"

"Im not that kind of girl, captain" you say coyly, placing your glass back on the bar

"we will see about that" he said leaning forward, invading your space confidently. His long fingers brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your neck. Getting closer, you could feel his breath ghost against your ear making you shudder "I thought I told ya to call me Shinji" he husked into your ear.

Pulling back he stopped close to your face, tilting up your chin with his fingers. When you looked into his eyes with held breath,he grinned. His thumb brushed against your full bottom lip, causing your breath to hitch, before he pulled away completely.

"try not to watch my ass as I walk away" he winked before doing just that. You couldn't stop your eyes wandering down as he did

———————————————————

You had gotten into conversation with the landlady, laughing hard at her quick jokes and tales of drunken shinigami that had visited. The whisky was going down smooth, the energetic music flowing through you. Standing at the bar, leaning on it to hear the stories over the music, your hips swayed to the beat.

The landlady laughed along with you, her face splitting into a wide grin as she saw something over your shoulder. With a nod, she indicated behind you. You turned quickly, nearly bumping into the blonde captain

"dance with me" he asked, holding his hand out in invitation,

"what, you've ran out of pick up lines?" You teased back, letting his hand hang between you

"I'll give ya another one, if ya dance with me" he beckoned you forward with a curl of his fingers. You watched his face break out into a grin as you slammed back the rest of your drink, placing it back on the bar before putting your hand in his.

"have fun you two!" The landlady called after you as he lead you to the small makeshift dance floor.

"Is it hot in here? Or is that just you?"  He asked after pulling you flush against his body. You laugh both at the cheesy pick up line and the way he lecherously gyrated his hips against yours. You placed your hand firmly on his chest, backing him up a little. Satisfied with with space between you, you smooth your hand further up his chest, leaving it to settle on his shoulder. Letting the music flow through you, you close your eyes and swing your hips to the beat

Shinji was mesmerised by the way your hips moved, captivated by the sultry sway. The dress you wore hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating your curves. He held onto your Shapley hips, pulling you closer as he synced your movements together. You opened your eyes, smiling up at him seductively. Turning in his arms, you lay your hands over his own at your hips, circling them slowly to push your ass against his groin. You heard the sharp intake of breath behind you and caught the smug chuckle before it escaped your lips.

After teasing you all night, it was about time the tables had turned. Shinji readily matched your dance, subtly grinding himself into your ass as his hands caressed over your hips and thighs. "Woman" he breathed close to your ear eliciting a shudder from you "yer going ta drive me crazy"

You felt his hardening length push against you, pushing against it firmly before your turned back to face him"you're a good dancer" you praise him, letting him slip a hand towards your ass and push you into him

"I'm good at a lot of things" he boasted with a grin, leaning down closer towards you. In turn you tilted up your head, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Your teeth teased your bottom lip as your eyes darted down to his own and back to his eyes, already staring intently down at you. You watched as his tongue slowly ran across his lips, moistening the skin there. The small flash of metal caught your attention again."Show me"

Shinji closed the distance and captured your lips in a kiss. His hand squeezed the flesh of your ass as the other flew up to your hair, fisting the silky strands and tilting your head back. You groaned at the feeling, your lips parting enough for Shinji to take advantage. His tongue eased into your mouth, skilfully caressing against your own. You could feel the smooth metal imbedded in the appendage glide over your tongue. It was nothing like you've ever felt before. You eagerly chased after it, following the cool metal and deepening the kiss.

You playing fought for dominance, pushing against his kiss. You could feel Shinji smirk into the kiss before tightening his hold on your hair, manipulating into the position he wanted before kissing you feverishly. You melted into the kiss, sinking into Shinjis embrace. All too soon Shinji pulled away, dropping another sweet kiss on your swollen lips as you parted.

"how bout we try that again" he murmured against your lips, "with a little less company" he indicated to the crowed of drunken dancers surrounding you with a nod of his head. The kiss had made you forget about the bumbling drunks staggering around you, the music seemed louder to your ears " I have a room upstairs" 

——————————————————

You giggled as you ran up the creaking wooden steps, Shinji hot on your heels as he playfully tapped at your ass. The music while muffled, still provided you with a sultry beat as you neared the top. You stopped at the closed door, slightly out of breath as Shinji loomed over you, fiddling with the lock until the door Swung open. The room was cast in a soft glow from a lantern sat on the bedside table, a large four poster bed dominated the room, pulling the eye.

You hardly made it past the threshold before Shinji had you pressed up against the now closed door. Pulling your arms above your head, he pinned your wrists to the door in one strong hand, the other tilted your chin up to meet him in a bruising kiss.

You let out an unashamed moan. Shinji deepened the kiss, pinning your lower body with his hips. He nibbled at your bottom lip before kissing his way to your neck, lavishing the sensitive skin with playful nips and sloppy kisses, leaving you breathless. You squirmed in his hold, head tilted to the side to give him more access,

"Shinji" your breathlessly moaned into the room, body heating up deliciously under his touch. Shinji sucked in a breath at your neck before letting out a low groan, slowly grinding his hips into yours

"the way ya say ma name" his voice was depended with lust, almost gravely as he left the crook of your neck to look into your eyes, close enough to kiss "yer making it difficult not to fuck ya against the door"

His dirty words only fuelled your lustful need, your hips jerked forward seeking friction. Hands still held securely above your head, you whispered against his lips "please"

Shinji smirked, pleased with the beg. Releasing your wrists, he slowly trailed his hands down your body, following the curve of your hips and down to your shapely thighs. Wrapping his large hands around the supple flesh, he easily lifted you. Your legs wrapped around him automatically

"Were not doin' this standing, there's a perfectly good bed righ there" he muttered before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he moved you away from the door, blindly making his way to the large inviting bed while he invaded your willing mouth.

Without letting you go, Shinji laid you in the centre of the bed, keeping you connected in your kiss. Your legs opened, providing him plenty of room to grind his hidden length against your core. Shinji braced himself over you, hands digging into the plush mattress either side of your head. Leaving your lips with a parting nibble, his grin had you squirming beneath him, encouraging the lazy grind of his hips.

Pushing himself up to sit back on his haunches, Shinji caressed the soft skin of your thighs, pushing your dress up to offer more of the sensitive skin. His fingers hooked into the hem, toying with it "as beautiful as you look in this dress, I think it'll look much better on my bedroom floor"

You huffed in amusement, the awful pick up lines seemingly not yet done for the evening. You lifted up your ass to assist in the removal of your dress, slowly being peeled from your body. Carefully he manipulated it over your head, before dropping it unceremoniously to the floor.

"no bra?" He noted pleased as your naked breasts heaved with your heavy breathing, the blush trailed down from your cheeks staining your neck and chest at his hungry look.

"Shinji, don't tease" the whine in your voice evident as you turn to hide your blushing cheeks. Shinji leaned himself over you, guiding you back to meet his eyes with a warm hand

"wouldn't dream of it doll" he muttered lowly, sealing his promise with a kiss. His slender lips followed the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses down to your neck. Your eyes flutter close as he makes contact with your Erogenous zone, titling your head invitingly. Shinjis hot breath ghosted over your skin as he sloppily kissed your neck sending a shiver through you.

You gasped when you felt his teeth sink into your delicate flesh, the strong suck accompanying it surly encouraging a dark bruise. Marking you as his own. His hand caressed up your side, callous's eliciting a trail of goosebumps leading up to your breast that he eagerly squeezed. His teeth release your neck, heat rushed to the dull throb as he soothed it with his tongue. Dipping his head lower he kissed his way down your sternum, nibbling at the swell of your breast before pulling your pert nipple into his mouth, swirling the tip of his tongue over the sensitive bud.

You moan at the sensation, your hands fly up to his head, fisting in his hair and pushing him closer. Shinji smirked around your nipple, flicking his tongue over it before he pulled off with a wet pop. Your hands slipped from his hair, falling limply onto the bed beside you. You watched with hooded eyes as he tugged his tie, loosening the knot and pulling it from the collar of his shirt.

"D'ya trust me?"  He asked you, grin on his face covering the seriousness of his tone. You eye the tie as you nod your head slowly. "I need ya ta say it"

"I trust you"  you breath, eyes caught in his demanding eye contact

"there's a good girl" he muttered, gently lifting your hands to rest on your stomach. You watch mesmerised as he weaved the silky material between your wrists, pulling it snugly against your skin. Your breath hitched at the tug he gave, tightening the tie securely "tell me if there's something ya don't like, an I'll stop" he assured you.

Shinji held the end of the tie, pulling it up to the intricate design of the wooden headboard, your hands involuntarily going up with it. Nimble fingers guided the tie through the wood, looping it twice before securing it with a knot. Shinji sat back down between your parted thighs, admiring his work.

Large hands smoothed over your thighs as you tilted your head back to see the dark contrast subduing you

"how does it feel?" he asked, hands not stopping their caress. You pull experimentally on your bindings, the tie length had a little give, allowing you little room to pull, it felt secure but caused you no pain

"good" you admitted, relaxing your arms and laying your head back down to meet his eyes.

"good" he echoed, before wrapping his arms around your thighs and giving you a surprising tug down the bed. You yelped at the sudden movement, arms pulled up straight over your head. The stretch of your arms had your breasts sat perkily on your chest, the secure wrap he had over your thighs left you trapped in place. Your heart beat quickened, thumping loud in your ears at the arousal you felt.

The hands on your thighs slowly trailed upwards, long fingers hooked into the sides of your panties. Shinji peeled the rapidity dampening material down, caressing your legs as he went. Balling your panties up, Shinji pushed them into his pocket with a lecherous grin. "Ya won't be needing them for a while"

"and yet your still fully dressed" you cock an eye brow at him, eyeing up the clothes you wish would join yours on the floor. Shinji slowly began to undo the buttons on his shirt at a torturous pace "demanding little thing ain't ya?" he teased, finally, finally taking off his shirt to expose his chest and subtle abs. Though slight in frame, the captain had hardened muscle evident of his strength. Your tongue darted out to moisten your full bottom lip at the sound of his belt clinking open.

You would've been impressed at the graceful way he managed to escape the confines of his tight trousers in that awkward position if not for his engorged cock springing free and capturing all your attention. He was bigger than you had thought, full with sexual arousal his hardened length stood to attention proudly.

You pulled against your restraint in an effort to touch him, movement halted immediately. You groan in frustration at the wicked glint in his eye "I wanna touch you" you voice the complain

"I know ya do doll." His voice was thick with smugness as he palmed himself teasingly, throwing you a wink. You watched him eagerly as he lowered himself between your legs, nudging your thighs open widely to nestle himself at your core "jus lay back an let me do what I do best" 

The witty retort died on your lips as Shinji surged forward into a lavish open mouth kiss into your core. His tongue languorously probed into your depth, tasting all that he could reach. Your back arched up off the bed with a high keen. Hands writhing in their restraints at the pleasure being inflicted on you, desperate to grab hold of the golden head between your thighs.

"Shinji, fuck" Shinjis answering hum inbetween your dampened folds vibrated against your most sensitive area Heightening your pleasure. Lewd wet sounds filled the space as he sloppily ate you out. Your lower stomach twisted with your unreleased arousal, dull ache steadily growing tighter with the need to release.

A desperate moan ripped from your lips as Shinji focused his attention to your throbbing clit. Skilled appendage swirled expertly around the collection of nerves, rush of pleasure cresting over you. You could feel the added stimulation of his piercing, smooth little ball adding delicious texture to his sinfully skilled tongue. The two fingers slipping easily into your soaking pussy was almost too much, overwhelming pleasure tittering on the edge of painful.

The binds on your wrist tightened with a pinch at your writhing, nipping at your skin deviantly. Panting heavily at his transgressions, your legs tighten around him searching for that extra friction to send you over the edge. Not letting up on his intense kiss to your clit, Shinji increased the speed in which his fingers fucked you, sensing you nearing your orgasm.

Sealing his lips around your swollen bundle of nerves, Shinji sucked hard pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you with a cry, the euphoria of pleasure had your thighs trembling, back arching as you pulled against the tie keeping you in place. Shinji released your clit with a hot lick, fingers driving into you with more vigour, prolonging your orgasm. Your release gushed over his fingers, the rapid in and out spraying your wetness over his busy hand and your thighs.

It was all too much, too much pleasure overwhelming your senses. You gasped out desperately trying to fill your lungs as you saw stars

"stop" you begged quickly, his fingers slowing inside you "stop, stop, it's too much"

Mercifully he adhered to your pleas, pulling away from your completely. Unshed tears blurred your vision and wet your lashes, causing you to close your eyes. Your breathing was deep and heavy, filling up your burning lungs. You felt boneless, body heavy as you sank into the matress spent. Shinjis hands soothed your trembling legs, eyes glued lustfully to your dripping pussy

"look at the mess ya made, pretty girl. Yer soaked" his voice thick with arousal penetrated through your post orgasmic haze. Your eyes snapped open at the feel of Shinjis hand returning to your spasming core, spreading your release around. The wet smack to your lower lips surprised you, involuntarily thrusting up with a moan.

Coming back to your senses you notice the gleam on Shinjis lower face from your release. Wide cocky grin pulled his lips over his teeth. His cock was strained between you, eager to plunge into your tight, wet heat. The tip of his cock had darkened with the rush of blood, bead of precum glistened from the slit.

"Shinji, please" you groan at the sight, licking your lips eagerly.

"such a needy girl" he teased leaning over you. The weight of his neglected cock settled on your stomach as he kissed you heatedly. His tongue forced entry into your willing mouth, mirroring the way his fingers had just brought you to a powerful orgasm. You could taste yourself on his tongue, smell the unique, sweet musk of your arousal drying on his chin. It sparked another ripple of arousal through you as you rolled your hips, encouraging Shinji to make his next move

"yer wanting ma dick that badly?" He uttered into the crook of your neck peppering kisses down to where it met your shoulder. The appearance of his teeth grazing your flush skin had you bucking beneath him. 

"please, Shinji." You didn't care that you were begging, you needed to feel the stretch as he filled you. Shinji gave you a playful nip before kissing you on the lips, moving just out of reach when you're tried to deepen it 

"anything for you princess" you felt Shinjis hand travel lower between you. Fisting his cock he guided it to your wet entrance, teasing the opening with the engorged head before pushing in at a tortuously slow pace. The slow drag of his arousal stretched you perfectly, inching his way in until he was buried to the hilt. Head hung low, Shinji stilled inside you, groaning at the tight, wet heat encasing him. "Fuck" he drawled out, rolling his hips and pushing in deeper. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he retreated from you, leaving just the tip inside. A powerful thrust of his hips had him snapping back inside you, pulling the first of a series of moans. Your arms pulled uselessly on your bindings, snug grip adding to the overload of sensations forced upon you. Shinji quickened his pace, drilling into you with expert precision.  His deep groans mixed sinfully with your desperate moans, accompanying the lewd wet noises and the slapping of skin meeting. 

"yer takin me so well doll " he praised around a groan "yer greedy pussy is swallowing ma dick perfectly" 

Heat rushed your cheeks at his filthy words, his accent thickening with his desire. You call out his name wantonly, bucking your hips to match his punishing rhythm, trying to get as much of him in you as possible. The knot in your lower stomach built again, feeling too hot in your own skin you eagerly awaited your impending release. 

You groaned Needily as Shinji pulled himself from you, denying your orgasm.   Protest dying on your lips as he sat back on his knees, watching you hungrily. Shinji grabbed your right leg and manoeuvred it to cross over your left. The new position had your middle twisted uncomfortably, plump ass open for his viewing. Quickly you forgot about the uncomfortable position when he entered you again swiftly. The new angle had him deeper, mercilessly hitting your sweet spot. 

You cried out loudly at the punishing pace he set, thighs slapping against your ass with every powerful thrust. Kneeling over you, Shinji used one hand to pinch one of your nipples, rolling the hardened bud between his fingers. His other landed on your ass in a stinging slap, he soothed away the prickling sting before dealing another blow. 

"ya got a perfect ass"  the praise cut through your shout of pleasure. He kneaded the curve of your ass appreciatively as you called out his name "that's righ doll, scream out ma name, let everyone downstairs know who is pleasuring ya"

Too far gone to care about the possibility of strangers overhearing you in the throes of passion, his name left your lips in a mantra of lustful praise. The muffled beat of the music below made for a perfect tempo for Shinji to guide his snapping hips.  "Cmon lass, I can feel yer nearly there" he grunted with exuberance, pushing your right leg up higher with his thigh, Shinji removed his hand from your breast to rub tight circles into your clit. It was what you needed to finally push you over the edge. You called out, eyes slamming shut as the pleasure darkened your vision. Your back arched painfully in your twisted position, pushing your ass out further. Shinji quickly gripped onto your ass and thigh, thrusting erratically as he chased his own orgasm, the tightening of your inner walls squeezing him perfectly to drive him over the edge 

He came with a grunt, pulling out of your tight heat and watching as he painted your ass with his seed. He stayed kneeling over you, head thrown back as he tried to steady his breathing, allowing you time to come back from your powerful orgasm. 

When he felt your body relax under him, Shinji carefully pulled your leg back over to lay on the bed. Reaching up Shinji kissed you sweetly, lips lingering on your own. He made quick work of the knots In his tie, first releasing it from the headboard, then slipping it from your wrists. Shinji chucked the tie into the room before laying down heavily next to you. Pulling the hand closest to him, Shinji held it in his own, gently rubbing the reddened marks to bring back feeling. 

After giving the same attention to the other, Shinji leaned on his side, propped up by his elbow to grin down at you "so..?" He started with a wide smile "what d'ya think?"

You chuckled musically and turned to face your boyfriend. You matched his wide smile and caressed his smooth chest with your fingers "you were right. It was fun to pretend we didn't know eachother"  you laughed at the way his eyes brightened before he nuzzled into the side of your neck and kissing it loudly 

"see? I knew ya would love it" he boasted happily before adding eagerly  "we can role play again, aye?"

You pretend to think about it for a moment before nodding in approval "you have any ideas?"

"next time, ya can be a musician and I'll be ya trumpet and ya can blow me" he teased with a wink

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic Prompt #8: Skincare

Butchlander, 650. Skipped scene from The Selfish Gene. Set somewhere in the third trimester. Rated G, but.. you know... mpreg.

Billy takes John's wrist and removes it off to the side, off of his body. "Give it a rest, love. You'll hurt yourself."

John sighs and pulls his shirt back over the dramatic curve of his belly. It's not his fault that sometimes his skin starts itching unbearably. Usually when his hands are idle and he's distracted. He's not sure if he's felt itching since childhood, when they used to douse him in chemicals or put him in a chamber where he got dosed with radiation of some kind.

"I can't focus on anything else if I don't scratch it," he says plaintively, attempting to bring his attention back to the TV series they've settles on watching, which isn't interesting enough to keep his hands still.

Billy looks over his body with a measure of sympathy. "Didn't ya get some kinda lotion for exactly this?"

"Yes, it's called belly butter, and it's in the closet near the bathroom."

"You want me to fetch it?"

"I don't like how it smells," John says, eyes still fixed on the TV show but absorbing none of the dialogue or plot.

"We can wash it off afterwards, can't we?"

John hesitates.

"Let me rub it on for you?" Billy offers, and smiles when he sees John give a resigned little shrug of the shoulders.

John positions himself facing upwards, head in Billy's lap as lotion keeps being applied to his stretched skin.

"There you go," Billy says, his hand making circles over John's belly, heaving slightly with each breath. "Doesn't smell so bad to me."

"I don't know what it is," John says. "But it puts me on edge with how much it annoys me."

Billy picks up the bottle and eyes it. "Lists a whole bunch of stuff here. It just smells faintly like coconut to me."

"I know what coconut smells like and that's not what's bothering me." John snatches the bottle out of Billy's hand, turning it around to read it. "Maybe it's this... 'Aloe vera barbadensis'. I don't know, it smells foul to me."

"Here," Billy says, and pinches John's nostrils together, thankfully not with the hand covered in the lotion.

John gives a tiny soft chuckle. "Thag you."

"Is it helping the itch any, at least?"

"A liddle," John says, smiling at the way he sounds with his nose pinched. "I duddo, a lot of sbells just disgust be dow."

"I'm sure I don't smell like a bed of roses."

John sits up slightly, then scoots upward so he can lean against Billy, half sitting up, burying his nose in the crook of Billy's neck. "Much prefer you to a bed of roses.”

Billy wraps his supporting arm around him again, and John feels strangely soothed to be held this way, and still petted on the belly, basking in the body heat of Billy's body, smelling him-- now no longer just sharply recognizable but the definition of home. John's eyes flutter closed as he enjoys the moment. The itching has faded to almost nothing.

Being caressed, being touched-- John's not used to these sensations divorced from sexual excitement, and he's normally all too happy to indulge, but right now-- in this particular moment-- it's so soothing that he doesn't want these feelings to end or transform into something more risque and goal-oriented.

It's strange to feel so heavily pregnant but also like a very small child who’s found warmth and safety at the same time. He flinches when he suddenly and vividly remembers hugging himself in the chamber when they were doing things that were making the skin across his entire body feel like it was crawling with something.

"Just buy a different lotion if this smell bothers you so much, love." Billy's voice pulls John back out of the reverie.

John opens his eyes and shakes his head. "I got used to it, just keep doing what you're doing."

"So it's helping?"

"Very much so."

[ticklishfiend]

FEEL FREE TO USE THIS PROMPT WITH WHOEVER YOU WANT. WHATEVER YOU WANT. IF YOU WANT TO USE IT. it's horribly evil and i trust you with it:

character a wanting tickles in some way, and character b (who knows about their deal and is totally being evil) picking up on it and character b somehow "forgets" what tickling is and how to do it and needs a little memory boost, convincing character A to explain it to them and tell them exactly what to do in order to get what they want 😌

"where do i put my hands?" / "now what?" / "where else should i try?"

- 🍓

i never finished this and im soooo sorry dude, i fell out of my hyperfixation and the motivation just floated out of my body bruh. anyways, here's the unfinished drabble, i hope u like it anyways!!

-

Aziraphale shifted in his seat. Crossed his legs, then uncrossed them immediately because it felt wrong. He rubbed his forearms against the couch arms uncomfortably, nails picking at the fabric. 

Aziraphale knew why he felt so off. But admitting it feels so improper. 

Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on Crowley lounging about on his designated couch spot. Aziraphale waited anxiously for him to notice how off he was acting. 

Crowley continued picking at his nails, not even bothering to look up at him. The one time Aziraphale wouldn’t mind a little teasing behavior from Crowley and he’s looking at his hand. 

Fine. Fine. He’ll say something, something small to get Crowley jump started. It never takes much to get him going anyways, so Aziraphale will have him in no time. 

“Ahem,” Aziraphale fake-coughed, a little obvious but if it works it works. Crowley looked up, brows furrowing at Aziraphale’s tense form, noticing his finger tapping impatiently at the arm. 

“You alright?”

Aziraphale gave a small shy smile, not looking Crowley in the eyes. His own nails seemed of more interest all of a sudden. “Just feeling…a bit antsy, is all, dear.”

“Oh,” Crowley squinted his eyes, suspicious and curious. “Any particular reason you’re so jittery? Got ants in your pants, angel?”

“Nothing of the sort.”

They were both quiet for a moment. A staring contest. Well, Crowley stared him down at least. Azirphale actually did everything but stare. 

Crowley hummed, going back to his hand. 

Are you actually joking.

Aziraphale huffed. Okay fine. Again. Maybe Crowley’s just a bit slow today. Yeah, that’s it. He needs a more obvious push. It’s more embarrassing, sure, but the metaphorical ants in his pants feel like they're crawling around faster now and he’s gonna need some relief soon. 

So Aziraphale took a big, long stretch. His arms raised above him, a satisfying groan just to call Crowley’s attention to his very exposed and vulnerable torso. And, of course, this did catch Crowley’s eye. 

He chuckled. Bingo. 

“Can’t keep still today, can ya?” Crowley sat on the edge of his seat, elbow propped on his knee to rest his chin in his hand. He watched Aziraphale settle back into his chair with a grin. “Anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

Aziraphale felt himself will back a blush. “Oh, well, I…I’m not sure. Anything you’d like, I’m sure I’d appreciate.”

“Mm…” Crowley hummed with a smile, eyes trailing Aziraphale up and down. Aziraphale was having a really hard time looking at him right now, it was very cute. “Seriously, angel, I’m not sure how to help you here. I cooould…make you some tea? Maybe grab some cakes by the coffee shop?” Crowley really couldn’t keep that cheeky grin off his face for a second, could he? “But maybe you can throw some suggestions out since my mind is drawing quite the blank.”

Aziraphale truly couldn’t tell if he was being serious. Was that smile devious or just him offering a nice gesture? Crowley had his sweet moments, if anyone would know it’d be Aziraphale, but was this that?? It didn’t really feel like it, but he didn’t want to flub. 

“Maybe we could figure something out easier if I…sat next to you?” 

“Brilliant idea,” Crowley sat back against the cushion, patting the spot next to him. “Make yourself comfy.” 

Aziraphale threw a tight smile his way as he got up, feeling very peculiar about this whole thing. Usually Crowley jumped right into this, eager to get his hands on him and make Aziraphale cackle. Now Crowley’s acting like he’s never tickled him a day in his life. 

Aziraphale hopes his brain is just working slower today than usual. The alternative is something he’s becoming very wary over. 

Finally seated, Aziraphale sat up straight as a board. He knew exactly what he was doing, too. If he looks too tense or stiff, Crowley always finds the excuse to tickle him into relaxing. Really, Aziraphale can be quite the schemer when he wants to be. 

Crowley just watched him for a moment, taking notice each time Aziraphale nervously glanced his way. Crowley reached and gave Aziraphale a soothing rub up and down his back, not stopping when Aziraphale tried flinching away. 

“Wow, you’re tense. Really, I’d love to help, but you are funny about your massages,” Crowley purred, giving Aziraphale a pat on the back before leaning back. 

Aziraphale ringed his hands. “Ah, yes well, that’s only sometimes,” he bluffed, trying to find any excuse to get Crowley’s dexterous fingers on him right this second. “I don’t think a massage sounds so bad right now, actually.”

Crowley chuckled, “Really? Usually you get all huffy when I offer you one of my famous massages,” he squeezed Aziraphale’s shoulder, which would’ve felt affirming if not for the teasy tone lacing Crowley’s voice right now. What a devil. 

Aziraphale did get huffy at that. “Well that’s because you always…” he waved his hand about in the air as if it would jog Crowley’s memory of all the very tickly massages he’s given Aziraphale in the past. Innocent rubs and firm presses to start, but eventually Crowley always trailed a little too close to Aziraphale’s sides, a little too gently, everything was always a little too much. Admittedly, Aziraphale thought that sounded perfect for his current mood. 

But Crowley just quirked his head, like a confused puppy. “What are you on about?” he pressed, before physically adjusting Aziraphale to lay down on the couch, back up. Crowley straddled his waist, “I always what?”

Aziraphale’s face felt like it could burn through the pillow he hid himself in. “You do know. Stop messing about.”

“Angel, if I knew what you were talking about…” Crowley leaned his face close into Aziraphale’s exposed ear, giving a hard press into his shoulder blades. His breath tickled as he whispered, “…don’t you think I’d be doing it right now?”

Oh for heaven's sake. Aziraphale felt he could bust through the seams with how on edge he was at the moment. He felt squirmier, hands pressing into spots in an extremely un-ticklish manner that made him want to whine. This is so unfair. Crowley knows exactly what he’s doing, he’s figured out a way to make Aziraphale squirm more than usual and he is not taking it for granted.  

Aziraphale’s not sure whether to be excited and thankful, or hit him over the head with his pillow. 

“You’re being cruel,” Aziraphale muttered into his pillow, fingers squeezing the cushion in anticipation. Maybe he’d start when Aziraphale least expected? Maybe Crowley’s getting impatient too? But he couldn’t know any of this for sure, so he had to wait, and isn’t that just the most internally ticklish feeling there was?

“Cruel? I’m giving you a massage, for Satan’s sake. I think if anyone is being cruel it’s you. I know you’ve got something you won’t tell me. I can hear those cogs turning in that pretty little head of yours,” Crowley gave his scalp a quick scratch, chuckling at the flinch that came with it. “Jumpy, are we?”

“Yes, okay? Just get on with it, please. I don’t think I can take much more of this. I’ve gone red, Crowley,” he whined like Crowley had made his body malfunction. He was getting a little desperate now. If his very obvious advances won’t work, asking must do this trick. It had to. 

But Crowley hummed again. And Aziraphale knew he wasn’t finished with his little tricks. 

“Gonna need you to be a little more specific. I’m a bit lost, you see,” Crowley’s hands trailed to hold Aziraphale’s sides firmly. Bastard.  

Aziraphale exhaled deeply into the pillow, close to pulling his hair out. “I would like you to…tickle me. Please.”

There was a hesitant silence, like Crowley was pondering his next move and Aziraphale was waiting with bated breath for it. 

Then Crowley spoke. And Azirphale almost wished he hadn’t of. 

“What’s tickling, dear?”

Fuck. Fuck. 

“Nooo,” Aziraphale groaned, pressing his palms into his eyes, beyond flustered and frustrated. 

“What? I’m not allowed to ask questions now?”

“It seems like asking questions is all you’re doing, actually…”

“I can’t do what you want if I don’t even know the definition,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale could hear the grin in his voice. Sometimes Aziraphale forgets he chooses to room with an actual, real-life demon. “You gettin’ the picture?”

“Cruel. Cruel, wily serpent. Hell spawn, you are.”

“Yeah, don’t wear it out, angel,” Crowley’s hands squeezed a very non-ticklish squeeze against Aziraphale’s sides, as if just to remind him of where he was above him. “Let's get you flipped over. Can't rightly tell me about this whole tickling thing if your face is smushed into the cushion.”

“Hhhnn,” Aziraphale groaned through a whiny giggle, adjusting under Crowley to lay on his back. Having his flushed face now on display is not helping whatsoever. 

Crowley smiled down at him, and Aziraphale swore he saw a forked tongue peek through his sharp teeth. Evil thing. “Why hello there.”

“Hush.”

“I don’t get a hello back?”

“Not after all this teasing you don’t,” Aziraphale would cross his arms if he could, but a certain someone was blocking him with his knees. 

“Teasing? Me? I think you really have lost your marbles, dear. I would do no such thing,” Crowley lied through his teeth, settling on Aziraphale’s waist. His hands drifted back to Aziraphale’s sides, firm all the same. “Now…about this tickling thing?” 

“You know what tickling is, Crowley. Stop messing with me,” Aziraphale stood his ground, though he found it hard to look Crowley in the eyes right now. Something about those pointed irises and the yellow surrounding them felt truly piercing at the moment. Sharp enough to cut through Aziraphale’s wavering boldness. 

“Really, darling, I haven’t a clue. But I'd love to find out if you’d be so inclined?” Crowley caressed Aziraphale’s sides, seemingly to comfort, but the angel nearly shivered. “Especially since you’re so eager for me to figure it out, hm?”

Aziraphale huffed. He’s been huffy since this whole thing started, but now that he can sense what he really wants is just over the horizon, breathing is becoming something of a manual task. “Is this really what it’s going to take?”

Crowley smiled a wicked smile. “I think you’ll find I’m a very fast learner.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, if only to distract himself from that fluttery feeling in his belly at those words. 

Closing his eyes and taking a sigh, Aziraphale was ready to get this over with. “T-tickling is…it’s, well…we created it together many, many years ago. If you touch certain parts of the body, my body, I’ll laugh. Involuntarily. So…” Aziraphale coughed awkwardly. “So there. That’s tickling.”

Crowley snickered. Azirphale shoved at his face playfully, his own face feeling warmed by the second. “You’re terrible, Crowley.”

“Aren’t I just?” Crowley said, taking Aziraphale’s hand and pushing it down against the cushion. “So…parts of your body, huh? Wanna be more specific about that?”

“Goodness gracious, you are insufferable,” Aziraphale chuckled through a whine, twisting the wrist in Crowley’s hand. “My…well, my sides are pretty sensitive.” 

“Sensitive…you mean…?”

“Ticklish, yes, ticklish! Crowley I swear if you d—dohohoahaha-! C-Crohohowley!” Azirpahale giggled happily when he felt precise fingers finally digging into his sides. 

“I think you deserve a little reward for your knowledge,” Crowley grinned, his pinching endless on Aziraphale’s sides. He basked in those silly giggles, happy his little game is over so he can finally hear his angel sing 

[tangerinesgf]

Why Didn't You Listen?

Tangerine x fem!reader (reader’s codename is Kiwi, because I like Kiwi’s and it sounds cute)

Summary: Tangerine warns you to get off the train before it reaches Kyoto. Unfortunately you don’t listen to him.  

Tags/warnings: angst, language, character death, hurt no comfort, mentions of blood/ injuries (a bit graphic I guess)

A/N: Idk where this came from, but I suddenly had inspiration. It got super angsty for no particular reason other than that I felt like it, so sorry in advance.

Based on the prompt: "I love you, for fuck's sake! And I need to know that you're safe!" "Sounds like that's just your problem." By @creativepromptsforwriting

“For fuck’s sake would ya just listen to me for once?” 

Tangerine was almost running after you as you walked from one train car to the other, not really paying attention to what he had to say to you. He found you casually strolling around the almost empty train when he was looking for Lemon. 

He couldn't understand how he missed you, since he had been walking up and down this train for at least 2 hours now.

"Oh because that worked out so well for me the last time!” You sneered at him. 

The last time you trusted anything Tangerine had to say you ended up with a bullet in you left shoulder that, by the way, still hadn’t fully healed. Even though he had apologized for what must have been a hundred time already. 

“I told you I was fuckin’ sorry about that.” he reminded you with a hint of hostility in his voice, clearly exhausted of having to say it again. 

“Doesn’t mean I suddenly trust you, now does it?” You picked up the pace of your steps, hoping that Tangerine would just give up and walk away. 

Unfortunately for you he did the exact opposite. 

Tangerine ran up from behind you and grabbed your arm, turning you to face him. “You can’t be here, alright? Shit’s going to go tits up.” 

“Shit has clearly already gone tits up, Tangerine, look at yourself.” you pointed out, looking him over.

Tangerine’s hair had turned back into it’s normal curly state, his suit was crumbled and smudged and there was blood all over him.

“Wait-” he grabbed your arm once again before you could walk too far from him. “Look, the White Death is waiting for us in Kyoto-” 

“I couldn’t really give a fuck if the bloody devil was waiting for us in Kyoto, I am not getting off of this train before I've completed my job.” 

You ripped your arm out of his grasp and started to walk away again. 

“Please, Kiwi, get out of here while you still can.” he practically begged you.

"No one's gonna kill me Tangerine, I can take care of myself." You insisted as the distance between the two of you grew, Tangerine not following behind you.

Goddamit, why wouldn't you just fucking listen to him? Tangerine knew damn well you could take care of yourself, but even he himself wasn't as stubborn as to take the chance to face The White Death.

Before he could really think them through, the next words already came out of his mouth.

"I love you, for fuck's sake! And I need to know that you're safe!" he yelled out after you. 

You stopped in your tracks, unsure of what to say to that. You and Tangerine had known each other for a few years now, running into each other during jobs, but also having been paired up a handful of times. 

And yeah there had been a lot of tension between the two of you, seemingly endless nights where you couldn’t stop talking after you’d patched each other up.

However after he’d gotten you shot you had kind of discarded any idea of a relationship with the man. He had told you to take the back exit instead of the front, so you wouldn't run into anyone. Instead there were 4 guys there who gave a scar to remember them by.

You took a deep breath before finally answering him. "Sounds like that's just your problem." It was probably a little harsher then he deserved, but it got the job done, because as you started to walk off he didn’t follow you anymore. 

Tangerine was left standing in the middle of the path as he watched you leave, he could only hope you’d make the right decision. 

After the train crash

He knew he should have run after you. Dragged you off of the train himself if he had to. But he didn’t, he let you go you own way, trusting that you could take care of yourself.  

Instead Tangerine had gone to find Lemon, thinking he would catch up with you later. In all the chaos of thinking his brother was dead, killing the prince and then finding out Lemon was actually still alive followed by a train crash, he had completely forgotten about you. 

He and Lemon had gotten out relatively unharmed, which was a miracle in itself. But of course that feeling of relief didn’t last very long. It hit Tangerine as they stepped off the train, careful not to fall over the debris of the train. 

He stops dead in his tracks. 

“Kiwi.”

Lemon hadn’t realized that his brother stopped walking and turned around at the mention of the name.

“What does she have to do with this?” his brother asked. 

“She was on the train.” As he says this Tangerine’s eyes start scanning the crash site, looking for any sign of you.

“What?” Lemon asked, confusion plastered all over his face, but Tangerine had already stopped listening, focused on finding Kiwi. God he hoped you were still alive. 

“We gotta find her, Lem.” 

Tangerine searched through the wreckage of the train like a madman. He had to find you. Alive. He didn’t know what he would do if- No, you’re okay, you could take care of yourself, he had nothing to worry about. 

“She could have just gotten off the train, ya know.” Lemon didn’t sound particularly worried as he said this, but then again you had only met Lemon a hand full of times in comparison to Tangerine.

Maybe he had a point, he warned you about the White Death, so he figured you’d be smart enough to get off in time. That’s probably why he couldn’t find you. Relief flowed through him, that’s until his eyes caught your little green backpack in the middle of a huge pile of rubble. 

No. 

He rushed over to it as fast as he could. Standing over the pile of debris he pulled the backpack free, there was blood on it. Looking further he spotted what he knew had to be your foot sticking out from the pile. “Shit, fuck, Lemon help me out ‘ere, think I found her.” 

Tangerine started to remove rocks and pieces of train off of you as Lemon joined him, doubling the effort. 

"Love?" He called out for you, hoping for a sign that you were still breathing underneath there.

But there was no response, no breathing or movement from where you lay.

As your body started to slowly come into view Tangerine started to lose hope in the fact that you might be still alive. There were injuries and blood all over your body from being thrown around during the crash. 

He hesitated to remove the final piece of debris that was still covering your face, not sure if he could handle what he would find. Knowing they couldn’t just leave you here, he slowly removed the piece of what had probably been part of a coffee cart once. 

His breath got caught in his throat as he could now see your entire body. Your face was covered, no drenched in blood so much that there was barely any clean skin visible. There was a huge wound on your forehead. He hoped that you had died instantly on impact with whatever you had hit, because the wound looked nasty and he wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer any longer. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility that you had still been alive under that pile of rubble and might have slowly bled to death.

Tangerine felt his body starting to shake and before he knew it his legs gave out from under him and he fell to the ground next to you. Lemon took a step back, understanding that he needed a moment. 

He pulled his handkerchief out of his retrieved suit jacket and started to wipe the blood of your face. Silent tears were streaming down his cheeks as your face became visible to him once more, little cuts and bruises littering your face. His breathing became ragged and he found it harder and harder to keep looking at your broken form.  

Your eyes were still open, but none of the joy and life they usually held was there. Now the only thing he could see in your eyes was emptiness mixed with a hint of fear.

You must have been so scared, god why didn’t he stick with you. Maybe he could have convinced you to leave after all. Or maybe he could have protected you during the crash. And while all the different possibilities and outcomes ran through his head he knew that there was nothing he could do about it now.

Dammit, why hadn't you just listened to him, when he had told you to leave.

As he finished cleaning your face as much as possible, he took a deep breath looking over you once more. The only time he told you he loved you was during an argument and you had left like you didn’t even care about him. But Tangerine knew you did. You always had just like him. The two of you had just been too stupid to tell each other. 

And now it was too late. 

He leaned over you once more and carefully closed your eyes. The empty look it held was replaced by a soft one. It almost looked like you were just sleeping. 

Before he got up he placed a kiss on the uninjured side of your forehead. 

“'Till we meet again, love” 

A/N: sorry not sorry..

Taglist: @megumisbabymomma @venusthepirate @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @wrendermeuseless @waiting4ff @kpopgirlbtssvt​ @dontknownameauthor​ @thirstyfortangerine @earth-elemental18​ @sisterlytherinog (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

[suguruslut]

Your first kiss

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

<<< 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪🐉| 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙖🐅| 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙖🐕 >>>

Gwen’s Notes: smooch smooch up in here. cooties! beware!

🐉𝒯𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊🍳

-it happened late one summer evening when the sky was orange and pink, the two of you slowly walking home after getting a few groceries. it was warm, but not too warm, casual conversation breaking off when Tatsu suddenly stops to admire you

-he doesn’t realize that he’s stopped walking, and what else can you do but stare back at him, trying to decode that mesmerized, dreamy look in his eyes? nothing in particular prompted this urge, just you being you, maybe the sunset’s glow making you look even more like an angel than usual

-the man keeps boundaries at all times, and even before he leans a little closer, Tatsu asks if it’s okay. the last thing he wants to do is make an unwanted advance and have you hate him forever

- “This alright?” Tatsu asked with only a smidgen of fear in his voice. yakuza fights, getting yelled at by the boss man, fighting for sale items is nothing compared to this moment, and he’s secretly terrified

-you give him the okay immediately, but Tatsu still moves slowly, giving you several chances to change your mind. he knows he can be a bit intimidating at times, but is happy when you don’t seem to be afraid

-after what seems like an eternal moment of waiting, Tatsu’s lips finally meet yours, and it’s as sweet and gentle as you expected it to be. he doesn’t fully press your lips together until he’s certain you won’t shove him away

-Tatsu exhales the breath he had been holding and presses just a little more into the kiss, enough where you can feel his facial hair graze over your skin; you don’t mind. you’ve been waiting a long time to figure out what Tatsu’s flesh felt like against yours

-your movements are slow and memorable, even when you both suddenly remember you’re still in public, but the perks of kissing a former yakuza is that you know damn well none of them would say anything about what they saw, or risk being reprimanded by Tatsu about social etiquette 

-(sure, you’re breaking a few ‘social etiquette’ rules yourself, but try telling Tatsu that. “No rules apply when you’re in love, Y/N!”)

🐅𝒯𝑜𝓇𝒶𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜🍰

-your first kiss with Tora happened on a rainy night; you had just gotten off work, running to Tora’s crepe truck for shelter, only to find that he had closed up shop and was without an umbrella, too

- “I’ll protect ya from the rain, Y/N! They don’t know who they’re messing with!”

- “Who doesn’t know, Tora?”

-ignoring your gentle refusal, Tora rips off his outer layer and throws it over your head, and the two of you take off through the wet streets, avoiding cars and trying to find a place to hold up until the rain let up a little. you’re not sure when you startled giggling, but soon Tora was grinning along with you as you splashed through puddles

-after several blocks you two find a public park with trees that are full enough to shield some of the cold raindrops. Tora gently pulls you into the park, your laughter dying off as you both stare at the street, watching the rain continue to pour down. it was at this moment Torajiro looked down at where you were dripping wet in his jacket and felt the need to kiss you

-Tora Tora Tora...he’s been waiting to kiss you for a while, now, fighting the urge until the time was right, until he was sure you actually wanted to kiss him back. there were a few times he thought you were going to initiate it, but you chickened out, and certainly weren’t thinking about it tonight as you shivered and wondered when the sky would stop looking so stormy and gray

- Tora swallowed nervously, feeling a chill unrelated to the cold rain dribbling down his bare arms, and his nerves only increased when you suddenly gazed up at him with a smile so bright it made the gloomy scene look a thousand times less dreary. why did you seem so happy? he wasn’t sure, but knew he needed to make this perfect moment even more perfect for the both of you

- “Can I kiss you?!” Torajiro blurted out like an idiot. not so perfect after all, but imagine his shock when you said yes

-not wanting to hesitate or procrastinate any longer than he already had, Tora grabbed your face and tugged towards his chest; he swept down to kiss you, but realized with horror that he might have startled you, a fear that was quickly put to rest by you pressing your lips together

-your first kiss with Tora was pretty passionate from the get-go, neither of you caring if anyone saw you two. all Tora cared about was your lips moving together, undeterred by droplets of rain sneaking their way into your kiss

-one of Tora’s large hands moved away from your face to your back, weaving around to ensure that this was real, not another one of his crazy daydreams--this was a million times better than any lame fantasy he could put together. a first kiss in the rain, standing within a beautiful park? fuck yeah, romance

-when you finally broke apart after five minutes of kissing, rain pouring even harder and breaking through the trees, you started giggling again, looking so happy Tora finally allowed himself to believe that he was a good man for you, and you for him, letting you throw his soaked jacket over the both of you as you ran home to finish what you started

🐕ℳ𝒶𝓈𝒶🥡

 -Masa is a lovable coward at heart, so it would take months for your first kiss to happen. you didn’t mind at first, content to hold hands, cuddle and tickle each other until someone almost pissed their pants, but after a certain amount of time, you realized you would have to make the first move if you ever wanted to kiss him

-you had just finished “making” dinner (takeout again) and were now doing the dishes that piled up over the last week, Masa whining under his breath as he dried the silverware

-you’re not sure what prompted it, maybe the househusband-like image of Masa actually doing housework for once in his life, but you slowly began to develop the idea of leaning over and kissing Masa right on the lips, breaking the ice that had built up for the past several months with one moment

-oblivious Masa just keeps doing his best at drying, not realizing you were up to something until he finished drying the last fork and triumphantly waved his dishtowel in the air like a maniac. he was so stupid you had to kiss him--there was no other option

-Masa’s smile faded when he suddenly saw your hands reach out and grab onto the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward. the boy honestly thought he was about to get a beatdown, the “tough love” method that Tatsu used to teach him a lesson, but what he got was the exact opposite

-your lips smashed against his, getting no response for several seconds, Masa too shocked that a super hot person like you was actually kissing him that he forgot he was supposed to participate. finally, Masa let his eyes close and began kissing back, unsure and uncoordinated, but still meaningful

-the kiss didn’t last too long, you leaning back to see Masa’s reaction, laughing breathily at his dumbfounded expression, eyes still closed like he was afraid this was all a really good dream

- “W-Well, it...it was just drying. I don’t know if my skills were worth that...” he mumbled

- “They were, Masa. Good job.”

-Masa’s eyes opened again and were lit up with joy, smile gracing his lips before he leaned back in for another kiss, hoping his aniki would be proud of him tomorrow for having his first kiss with you and for drying the dishes

                                                     🐉 🐅 🐕

[sissylittlefeather]

6 with F

:)))

Hey hey! Thanks for being the first request for my 200 follower celebration! You didn't specify smut or fluff, so I did some fluff with a hint toward future smut, so you can let your imagination run wild, if you want to 😉

Warnings: none, really. One cuss word.

Prompt: "Oh, we're not married." With '74-'77 BDE

One of Elvis's favorite things to do with you was drive. He'd take you out to different places around town that were quiet and secluded, so you could talk or do other things. You'd been dating for a few months and time spent with him was always your favorite. He loved that he could be himself around you, and, for a little while, be able to take off the mask of performing that he often wore even when he wasn't on stage or touring. Every time he would call you and tell you to meet him downstairs in half an hour, you'd grab your purse and your shoes and sit outside in anticipation. He tried to drive a different car each time, and it became a bit of a game to guess which one he'd bring next.

Tonight, you're sitting outside your apartment in the cool night air waiting for him when he pulls up in a Cadillac Deville station wagon. It's not the first time he's brought this car. He likes to drive this one when he knows you'll need space. You roll your eyes and laugh to yourself. Elvis is not a man that anyone could ever accuse of subtlety. He pulls up and rolls the window down.

"Hey, doll. Need a ride?"

"Depends on where you're headed, sir." This is a game you play often.

"Anywhere you want, baby." You lean in his window and kiss him on the cheek. Then, you walk around the car and slide into the passenger side.

You ride for a while talking about nothing in particular. Eventually, you come to one of your favorite spots off the road and he turns. Once you're parked, he asks if you want to move to the backseat.

"I just wanna kiss ya without a steering wheel in the way." You smile and oblige, both of you sliding into the seat at the same time. He opens his arms and gestures for you to come closer. You scoot to him and he plants a deep kiss on your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You continue this way for a while, with him wrapped around you, pressed together. As things start to heat up, your hands go to his belt buckle and you've almost got it undone when there's an emphatic knock knock on the window. You gasp and sit straight up.

"What the fuck?" Elvis growls under his breath. He rolls the window down to see a young male police officer.

"Umm sir, you can't, uh, park here."

"I think you'll find I can do most anything I put my mind to." Elvis waits for the young man to realize who he is, but he doesn't.

"I need your drivers license, please, sir." Elvis turns to you.

"Honey, will you look in the glove box and see if it's in there."

"Sure, baby." You slip out of the door, open the passenger side, and rummage through the glove compartment, careful to keep the gun that's in there hidden. Eventually, you locate a wallet that has an ID in it. You walk around the car to the cop. He's noticeably nervous.

"Your husband seems to think I should know who he is."

"Oh, we're not married. But you should know him." The cop takes the ID from you and looks down at it. His head snaps back up and then he looks down at Elvis in the car.

"You're..."

"Nice to meet you, son."

"I'm gonna... I'm just... this is just a warning..." Elvis smiles knowingly and gestures for you to get in the car. By the time you get back to your place on the seat next to him, the cop is apologizing and walking backwards away from the car.

"Have a good night..." He calls as he gets back to his patrol car. Elvis waves and rolls the window up.

"Now, where were we, doll?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*