#she pumps out books at home like crazy

[heartless-tate]

Just Friends? | Dark Azriel X Freader

Summary: You and Azriel are just friends. Who fuck. Or at least that’s how you see it. So what happens when you find out Azriel sees it completely different?. 🧁 | 2.6k words

A/N: I was feeling spicy today for some dark azzie boo bear. FYI, if you’d like this rewritten with a male reader, please ask!

WARNINGS: NSFW content, p in v?, oral F receiving, choking, murder(not reader), torture(not reader), shadow play, slight angst in beginning, fingering, slight degradation, slight manipulation, reader with she/her pronouns. with a pussy. THIS IS YANDERE CONTENT. ITS DARK AND POSSESSIVE.

The apartment is eerily silent. It’s dark, and shadows seem to liter every surface tonight. The stench of mold and something rotten doesn’t overwhelm your senses much anymore. Living here on this side of Velaris, you think you’re use to it. You didn’t bother turning the lights on. They always left a weird dim and yellow setting. The moonlight rays from the windows were enough light for now.

You stood in the cramped kitchen, in front of the oven. You stared at the cupcakes baking inside. Then at the clock; 3:04 am. You hadn’t been able to sleep and why not bake cupcakes? The inner circle would certainly enjoy them tomorrow. Not to mention it’d give you an excuse to question Rhysand of Azriel’s whereabouts. He always stops by your place at least once every three days. Or around that. It had been a week. You were lonely. And sexually frustrated. It was hard to get off without his long scarred fingers pressing into your skin, holding you close like he might lose you, and his cock pumping into you teasingly slow. Nothing compared to the feeling of it. Of him.

Going from fucking everyday, on almost any surface, to nothing within a week was driving you crazy. You needed it. You needed him. And not just sexually. But he couldn’t find that out. You wonder if you shouldn’t have had sex with him that night. Started whatever this mess was. Friends? Or what was it books called it?

Friends with benefits. You two spent the day time as friends, hanging out, talking, and at night you fucked like rabbits during the mating season. Or any time of the day really. You have had a crush on Azriel ever since you met him. How could you not? He was kind. Different. Quiet. And you both hit it off so easily when Rhysand introduced you to the inner circle. it seemed like he was always there. And if he wasn’t, his shadows were. Sure, you don’t have him as yours. But he was your friend. Your best friend. And that was enough. Or at least you tried to convince yourself that.

And so when he came back from a mission, sweaty and heated up from anger- you couldn’t help but relax and let him take control. You had had a stressful day too. Why not? Why not let your hot bestfriend fuck you senseless? That’s where the downfall was. You were just pity fuck or a way to blow off some steam for him. You see the way he’s always talking to Elain. You satisfied him for now. So you would happily reduce yourself to what felt like a sex toy, waiting for him in your shitty apartment in hopes maybe one day he would return your feelings. And more then ever you hated that you missed him, and not just the sex. You didn’t even have a clue to what day it was.

You approached the calendar on the wall and peered at it. He said he’d be back today. Or yesterday- since it’s 3:06 am now. He lied. Maybe he had found another woman. Jealousy swirled inside of you, ever growing like an invasive species. You slumped back down beside the oven. This was depressing. You felt like some lonely sad and depressed wife waiting for her husband to come home. Except he wasn’t your husband. And this wasn’t his home. And one day he’ll find another woman and you’ll be nothing but a faint memory in his mind.

A shadow scurried to you, dancing excitedly, others surrounded and curiously observed you. You watched as they scattered around your body as if searching for any harm. You paused- his shadows were back. Which meant he was back. And near. The shadow dancing in your face swirled and gently brushed against your cheek as if consoling you. As if it knew you were sad. You heard the door open to your apartment. You stood running to the living room watching as Azriel entered your apartment. He looked so out of place here. He slightly reeked of blood. As if he hadn’t washed it off yet and had just used magic to hide it for now. His hair was tussled and his eyes were oddly alert at this hour. He smirked at seeing you standing so excitedly. More shadows rushed to join the ones dancing around you, as if celebrating you.

You were so happy to see him again! But he was late. And probably was with another woman. You frowned and stepped back slightly.

“Where were you?”You questioned, crossing your arms. The shadows slowed to a lazy swirl. His wings tucked in slightly. He approached.

“Does it matter love? I’m here now.” He whispered cunningly, pulling you in by your hips. His fingers quickly moved underneath the baggy T-shirt of his you were wearing to grip at the flesh of your hips. He smiled at you broadly as if just noticing you were only wearing his shirt and panties. Your eyebrows furrowed. He could scent your arousal.

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.” You snuffed out. His wings tucked in further, his eyes flashing with darkness for a slight second.

“Do not question me.” He whispered softly. Azriel pulled you in closely nuzzling his cheek against your hair. He flinched when you jerked away angrily. He watched as you started back to the kitchen.

“Fine. It’s whatever. After all we’re just-“

“Don’t you fucking dare say friends, Y/n.” He snarled loudly. A sharp contrast from his before behavior. Before you could respond he was pulling you back, your back hitting his chest. It was like he snapped. His arms wrapped tightly around your center, holding you still as his wings surrounded you both.

“The only reason I’ve been putting up with your fucking friends with benefits bullshit is to give you time to adjust.” Azriel said, hands roaming. It became difficult to focus.

“What? What is that suppose to mean Azriel?”

His hand found it’s way to your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot on your panties. He snickered. Of course you were turned on. His hard chest pressed into you and you could feel his erection firmly prodding against your back. The size difference between you two was almost unbelievable. You had been turned on since you got lost in thought of him earlier. Since that wet dream you had. You mewled softly as two tendrils of his shadows slither their way under your shirt and rub against your perked nipples. Azriel smirked and kissed your neck slowly. He moved your panties to the side and dipped his finger into your gushing cunt, enjoying the sounds it made. And the ones you made.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped in response. It felt like you were on fire. Azriel was always capable of reducing you to a moaning incoherent mess within seconds. His long scarred fingers started pumping in and out of you, pressing into the one spot that made you cry out. His other hand grasped your throat and forced your head up to face him. His amber eyes were dark and piercing, a feral look on his face. It was terrifying, and yet you felt your body react differently then your mind did.

“What it means is, this pussy is fucking mine. This body. This mind. You’re fucking mine. You’ve been mine since the day we met. My beautiful foolish mate. I waited for the bond to snap for you, but it hasn’t yet. So when we started fucking, I assumed it would snap for you soon. And I could give you time to grow use to me, to having a lover and someone who cares for you. I know nobody has cared for you in a long while, sweet little thing. I knew you would need time to adjust. But it seems maybe you got the wrong idea. We’re not just friends. We’re mates. You belong to me. I belong to you. There will never be anyone else for us. Just me and you.. for eternity.” He whispered possessively in your ear. His feral smile only seemed to grow, making your own fear- but also pleasure grow? His thumb rubbed at your clit at a breathtaking speed, eyes sharp as they watched you squirm. He refused to let go of you though. Holding you close. You couldn’t process his words clearly. Everything felt too good. Too right. Like you belonged there- in his arms.

“W-wait az-“ you whimpered out trying to jerk your hips from the overwhelming heat building in your core. Azriel didn’t relent, shoving a third finger in you, dragging it slowly against your walls. He started pumping them in, every-time he hit the spot he knew that would make you dumb. The spot he knew would make you cock drunk when he angled his dick to press into it every-time he pumped into you. The shadows twirled and pinched at your nipples, creating a mix of pain and pleasure. They knew you enjoyed it. Azriel knew you did with the way your soaking cunt spasmed. You were close. He could see it in the way your body went limp against him. His hand grasped at your throat more aggressively- cutting off some of your air. His eyes were narrowed as he forced you to look at him. He knew you were close by the foggy and dumb look you gave him.

“Cum on my fingers princess. Make a mess.” Azriel purred sweetly, pressing his hard on into your back for some friction. He smirked knowingly when you cried out silently, hands clawing at his arm that was wrapped around neck. He felt the way your walls tightened, clenching around his fingers and he felt wetness leak around them. He released your throat, letting air back in. You gasped for air desperately. Your cunt was gushing around his fingers, a mixture of wetness and cum dripping drown his scarred hands. You clenched around nothing at the sight as he pulled them away.

“Atta girl. Look at you, making a mess of me hands. Clean it up hun.” He cooed, raising his fingers to your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth, allowing his fingers to be shoved into your mouth. You sucked them, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight, pressing his erection against you again. Shadows suddenly swarmed around you both, and all of a sudden you were inside of Azriel’s house. Well- one of them. He had a penthouse, and a secluded cabin-house? It was deep in the forest and and secluded with the sense of a cabin but much more bigger and fancier. It had a modern look to it. He kept it secret, as it was a hide away for himself, but he always brought you to it.

He pushed you against his bed, mounting you like a feral animal. Both of your clothes disappeared- except for the shirt of his you had on. It stayed. His shadows swirled around you two. His erection prodded your ass.

Azriel seemed much more animalistic now, as he rutted his erection agaisnt you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he lifted you to him. He pulled you into a long, wet, and sloppy kiss. He nipped your lips until swollen and slightly bloody. And you returned it, happily, forgetting everything else. For now. He pulled away when you tapped his arm, needing air. He stared as you regained your breath.

“You wanna know where I was?” He asked, using his knee to knock your legs wider. His hand reached in between yours, feeling your wetness. He ears twitched at the sound of your soft gasp.

“Y-yes” You stuttered out, rutting into his hand.

“I was hunting down that pathetic excuse of your landlord. After you told me about how he threatened to touch you to make up for your lack of money and the missed payments, I went and found the fucker. I had to go on a mission Rhys sent me on, but I told him to count his days. When I got back, I found him and fucking destroyed that piece of shit.” Azriel growled proudly, taking in the scent of your fear and confusion. “He screamed like a little baby, louder then any other girl I’ve tortured before. I made it hurt. Nobody gets to fucking talk or touch my girl like that. Nobody.” He huffed out, chest puffed up with pride.

Azriel grunted when you shoved him away and scrambled to the headboard. His head titled with confusion. He scented your fear and his ears picked up the sound of your heart beat.

Azriel killed someone. You realized. He killed your landlord. It was hard to wrap your head around it. You knew he wasn’t innocent but the Azriel you knew was soft and kind. Not- not this. He killed someone. For you. Someone died. Because of you. Dread filled your bones. He crawled forward. Straddling your hips before you could move. His naked body in all it’s glory.

“Oh sweet thing, don’t be scared. I would never, ever, harm you. Don’t be afraid of me. I was just protecting you. And your landlord wasn’t just threatening you. He was doing it to other females. It’s okay, princess. He was just getting his deserved consequences. Can you imagine how many woman I could’ve possibly saved from his harm tonight? Don’t be scared of me. You’re safe.” Azriel purred out, wings flared. His cock rested on your stomach. You couldn’t help but relax as his scarred hands slowly spread your thighs. He’s right. Azriel’s always right. Someone could’ve been hurt if it wasn’t for him. He was doing you, and other women a favor. There was no reason you shouldn’t just relax and enjoy this. Him.

He smirked, hooking your legs upon his shoulder. Azriel, rubbed gentle circles in your thigh. He admired your pretty cunt. And then you. In his shirt. Smothered in his scent- inside and outside. In his bed. In his house. Where no one could disturb you. Pussy on display for him. And just him. He moved his hips down before nose diving into your pussy, scenting you. You smelled and tasted divine and your cute yelps and squirms of shock only spurred him on as he lapped at your gushing cunt for more. You tasted divine. Better then he could imagine. His hands held tight, nails leaving crescent moon shapes in the soft flesh of your thighs. Azriel couldn’t help but groan and whimper loudly at your taste. Tongue lapping and lapping like a starved man.

“Azzie!” You squeaked out, hands clutching at his hair, hips rutting into his face. His eyes were stuck on you, staring you down like a lion who had finally caught its favorite mouse. He groaned before pulling away, your wetness dripping down his face. He held eye contact as he licked around his mouth, enjoying your flavor. He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped it against your swollen clit, watching as you squirmed and yelped, sensitive. You were so adorable. His shadows slithered around your body before multiple restrained your limbs down. Leaving you helpless and vulnerable to him.

You relaxed. Azriel would never hurt you. He’s always been there for you. And this is what you wanted- him. And even better- he was your mate. Yours. And you were his. Who cares if he brutally killed your landlord? He was just doing his job as your mate. Protecting you. And plus, you have an excuse to move in with him. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be living this bed for a long, long, time. And as he slowly lined his fat cock with your soaking cunt, you couldn’t help but remember one thing. Your fucking cupcakes.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Could you do Felicia Hardy smut headcanons please?

Felicia Hardy x GN!reader

*Danielle Rose Russell used as fancast*

**I think about sex with Felicia far too often* *

● Felicia's sex drive is off the charts

● seriously, she needs to cum at least twice a day to feel even remotely satisfied

● and if you aren't there to make it happen she has plenty of toys to get the job done

● she owns quite the lingerie collection

● so many black lace pieces

● her favorites are see through bras because she knows those drive you particularly crazy

● "see something you like?" She'll say standing in the doorway of your bedroom in nothing but a revealing lace bra and panty set

● and it drives her crazy when you worship her tits

● sucking and toying with her nipples

● making her cum just from stimulating her chest

● having her ride your thigh while you're lavishing her breasts

● and leaving hickies all across her skin

● she melts when you call her a good girl

● you will be in the middle of a heist and she'll pull her zipper down ever so slightly to tease you with her tits

● "better pay attention love don't want to set off the museum alarm now do we?"

● "how the hell am I supposed to focus when you're taunting me like that?"

● "what can I say? I have great assets"

● "you sure do Felicia, you sure do"

● there's nothing she loves more than oral

● doesn't matter if she's giving or receiving

● you frequently wake up to her settled in between your legs

● and she works you like a pro giving you an incredible start to your morning

● and you always make sure to return the favor

● spending hours between her legs leaving your bedsheets absolutely soaked from how many times she cums

● anytime you run into her ex Odessa it ends in you two bringing her back to your place for a threesome

● Odessa always praises Felicia for finding someone so good in bed

● "at least I know you are being well taken care of Felicia"

● "you haven't even seen their best work"

● anytime you score huge on heists you have insane celebratory sex

● fucking on every surface of your apartment possible

● bringing out your special occasion toys

● speaking of, your toy box is full of contraptions that most people have never even heard of

● Felicia's got a list of kinks so long you'll never run out of new things to try

● and she introduces you to positions that shouldn't be humanly possible

● mid heist quickies that get your adrenaline pumping

● her bending over for no real reason just to show off her ass in her tight leather suit to turn you on

● you have no problem when Felicia flirts with people to either get intel or to steal something from them

● no one can resist her and she gets her prize every time

● "what do you think this watch is worth? 15-20k?" She grins walking back to your table after swiping a watch off some rich guy at the bar

● "whatever it's worth it's definitely paying for our next trip to Europe" you say kissing her proudly

● it's honestly pretty hot watching people hit on her knowing you're the one who gets to take her home

● but when certain people get a little too handsy with her she will drag you somewhere more private to ensure you that you are the only one she wants

● you guys have a nice big apartment that overlooks New York city but it is fun to break into penthouses and luxury hotels for a change of scenery every so often

● and when you travel you book the nicest hotels to screw around in

● fucking her on balconies with breathtaking views

● everyday is an adventure with Felicia

● and you wouldn't give it up for anything

[beckyscyberslut]

Morning || becky lynch x fem!reader

warnings: smut

word count: 1,258

[p.s. this is from my book on wattpad]

you and becky were chilling at home just moments before you decided to have a little fun and things quickly escalated and got pretty heated.

"I ain't here to play no games i'm gonna give it to you just how you want it." you had told to her the moment you flipped her over on the bed and slipped between her legs before leaning down and giving her one big rough and sloppy kiss.

you pulled away with your lips still touching hers slightly having her say, "you can call me crazy, baby, you just drive me crazy when you touch on it."

those words making you glide your hand up her body only stopping at her neck giving it a squeeze before leaning back down for another sloppy kiss.

you pull away from becky making her whine.

"patience, love." you tell her walking to your closet and grabbing what you need.

"clothes off now." you demanded as you took your own clothes off and put the strap on adjusting it.

once she was fully naked you drank her whole body in not being able to believe how beautiful she was.

you pushed her back on the bed and lined yourself with her entrance before entering her you lifted her legs up on your shoulders and pinned her hands above her head.

you slowly entered her waiting a while for her to adjust before pumping slowly in and out of her.

her moans slowly filling the room.

"oh, baby. f-faster please.." she said her face contorting in pleasure.

"you make me stand up and switch up on it." you told her going faster as you stood up straight holding on to her waist and pounding into her

her moans getting louder with every stroke.

when she started getting quiet you tell that she was getting close.

"make your head go round and round and have me making sound until the morning."

she said making you slide out of her and kiss down her body until you got to where she craved you most.

the moment your mouth connected with her clit she let out a string of curse words making her smile against her.

truthfully, you loved the hold you had on her.

you loved the way she tasted, the way she moved her hips in sync with your face, the way she felt around your fingers, and the sound of her raspy, breathy moans.

the way she sounded moaning your name drove you crazy.

"ain't no limit what im pullin when I fuck on you, babe." you spoke against her core the vibrations of you voice alone driving her mad.

the moment you added fingers she lost it and came all over your fingers and face.

"you taste so fucking good." you told her while sucking her juices off your fingers and looking her dead In the eyes.

you went to kiss her letting her taste herself while placing your hand on her clit making her moan into the kiss.

"you came like a good girl, but, daddy's not done with you yet, babygirl." you smirked against her lips flipping you both over to where she was on top riding the strap.

you were guiding her hips as she threw her had back in pleasure, moans slowly turning into screams.

"feel that shit, get it." you told her before making her lean over and you putting her right nipple in your mouth and playing with the other one.

her moans started getting breathier letting you know she was almost to her high for the second time that night.

you reached your hand down and started making circles on her clit making her a moaning mess.

she gripped you shoulders tight with her jaw hanging indicating that she came so you helped her ride out her high.

full shivers running down her spine never truly knowing what it is that you do to her body to make her feel the way you do.

"have some more in you, darling? we're just getting started." you ask her and she nods her head so you flip you over again before slipping the strap off and getting in bed with her.

you turn her on her side before picking her left leg up lifting it over your shoulder and getting between them making both your cores touch each other drawing moans out of both of your mouths.

you started rocking your hips slowly at first before picking up the pace bringing more moans out of you both.

"fuck, daddy, i'm so close." becky said through moans driving you crazy making you go even faster, he friction making you both feel that coil in your stomach.

"come on, baby, cum with me." you said letting go having becky follow not too long after.

you put becky lying on her back before sitting on her face and leaning over to get to work on her.

she slipped two fingers inside of me while her mouth was attached to my clit making me arch my back with a loud moan.

I leaned back over and started eating my heart out,

I slipped my tongue in and out of her slit before bring it back up to her clit and sucking on it.

her moans against by clit were giving me full body chills.

"fuuckkk." I drug out against her clit.

I was such a moaning mess.

she always knew how to give me exactly what I needed to please me.

I started moving my tongue faster against her before adding fingers and pumping them in and out of her.

I knew I was beginning to get close to my high but I was holding it back until I got her where I wanted her.

I wanted to slut my pretty girl out.

I inserted another finger and had her squirming beneath me her moans going crazy against me.

"let it go. now." you told her against her that being the last straw making her cum you also releasing on her tongue.

she sucked up all you juices. licking you dry.

you did the same before turning around to where you were back between her legs.

"one more for me, okay?" you said as she nodded her head.

you brought her hand back down to her core and shoved two fingers into her as you sucked and bit on her neck marking you as her territory.

you pumped fast and hard, her legs shaking.

"baby, i'm so fuckin close." she said as her walls started clenching around your fingers.

you put your thumb against her clit making her back arch.

she brought her arms around your neck bringing you into a sloppy kiss that she moaned into.

you pumped a little harder and faster making her hands go down to your back and having her claw you as she came long and hard for the last time that night.

she took your hand and brought it to her mouth sucking all her juices off your fingers while looking you dead in the eyes letting go with a pop.

"funny how you thought I tapped out when we was fuckin." she said with a slight laugh before pulling you down and lying on your chest too exhausted to move.

you pulled the blanket over you and pulled her closer to you, kissing her head.

"I love you, Rebecca." you whispered to her.

"I love you so much more, y/n." she responded.

you looked over at the clock and saw that it was the morning.

[divorcedfiddleford]

ok last thing i SWEAR im gonna shut up after this but i just wanted to post michael rianda's outline for the jack kerouac wendy episode that i mentioned. it definitely needed a lot of work but i do like it in concept. image ID/transcript below the cut (warning it's LONG)

[image 1 ID: a screenshot of a tweet from michael rianda. it reads: "I Found a Lost Wendy Episode of Gravity Falls! We were always trying to crack a Wendy episode. This was my favorite. I love the teenage feel of wanderlust + getting excited about reading "On the Road." I love the backstory and flaw. It didn't work but I always liked it." end image 1 ID.]

[image 2 ID: a screenshot of michael rianda's outline. from here i will simply transcribe what he has written, only fixing typos that interrupt screen readers.

Episode 3. Wendy's "On the Road" This is the first in a series I did where I wanted to get to know a character better, and I started with that desire, and followed it through.

Cold Open: A woman answers a phone at a Wal-Mart type superstore place. Wendy's on the other end with Dipper and Mabel. She asks to be transferred to extension 234. Extension 234 connects them to the stores loudspeaker speakerphone. Wendy starts making joke announcements over the loudspeaker: Wendy: "Clean up to aisle 6, customers seem to be projectile vomiting all over eachother." Mabel and Dipper are laughing hysterically. The woman can't hang up on Wendy so she calls the cops. Wendy's still going. Soos asks if she could get in trouble for it. Wendy brushes him off. Then the cops show up. Stan sees Wendy arrested and swells with pride- "she HAS been learning from me (quietly weeps) I'm so proud."

Act One: Open on Manly Dan... by his age it must be the past- he teaches his boys to chop wood and they're all struggling. A huge tree drops in the distance. When the dust clears... it's little Wendy. He tells her to climb aboard his shoulders my little axechild! They happily gallop off. They love each other. It's very sweet. Cut to present day: A confrontational Manly Dan is bawling Wendy out for getting in trouble for the prank phone call. He tells her not to be so impulsive and do the first thing that pops into her head. Wendy insists Manly Dan is the most impulsive person she knows, besides the cops left her off with a warning. She brushes it off by saying she has to go to work.

B story. (Not sure what)

Wendy's reading On the Road at work. She's getting progressively more pumped about this book. Mabel asks what it's about. She explains it all and the kids are pumped. They're swept up in this romanticized teenage vision of hitchhiking on the open road. Stan has to leave for some secret portal reason and Wendy's like: "Let's do this right now!" (Secretly she just doesn't want to go home and deal with her dad.) "Let's do it let's just hitch hike. Leave town! Start a new life! Like Jack Kerouac!" Mabel is enamored.

End image 2 ID.]

[Image 3 ID: picking up from the transcript of the previous image:

Soos is wary of leaving the shop at first. But Wendy talks them into it. A couple of her friends come. Lee, Nate, Thompson, and Tambry. They get on the road and are immediately having fun. Things are looking up. Soos is worried. Wendy: "Easy Soos, we're in Oregon... it's just going to be a bunch of nice hippies..." Cut to a terrifying crazy red eyed driver without a face driving towards them. Act break.

Act Two: Wendy and Co are having fun just like you should on a road trip/vagabond adventure. They're stopping at mini-marts and getting lame snow globes- and making fun of them. Things are looking good. It's like a road movie. They all relate to each other about problems with their parents. Wendy doesn't say much but she has a flashback to her and her dad drifting apart.

Stan B Story.

The scary faceless driver comes by and offers them a ride. (they can't see his ghoulish faceless self) Wendy immediately says yes before anyone else can decide. People are like "I don't want to go hitch-hiking." "Wendy: It'll be fine! Come on- this is the adventure of our lives. People in those stories never said, no I'm scared." She makes them all go in. It's creepy and tense in the car. Eventually the guy reveals himself to be a horrifying ghoul face and locks the doors. They all go screaming into the distance.

Act Three: He takes them to the "End of the Road" Diner. Or you hang a lampshade on it and have it be Bob's Big Boy but with a David Lynch head on the outside. There are other people that get taken there and stay forever and are sort of these lost souls that are stuck there. From all different eras. It's like this terrifying Lynch-ian dark version of an idyllic road trip stop. Basically it's a Lynch parody fest with Soos and Mabel. Like these little creepy old couple are walking in fast motion out of a wall and Soos is pushing them back in. "Whadda you doin grandma and grandpa... get outta that mouse hole. Get back in that mouse hole you goofs." (Probably too insane) Anyway, everyone wants them to have "the special" and after you eat the special, you stay there forever. Wendy's really guilty that all this is her fault.

End image 3 ID.]

[Image 4 ID: the last of the transcript:

Wendy wants to impulsively react, but remembers her dad. She thinks carefully what to do and comes up with a plan- and chops down a tree on the driver. They all come home- relieved to be back in Gravity Falls, and her dad is chopping wood in the back- he's still mad at Wendy.

Wendy: Hey... Dad? Manly Dan: (grunts) Wendy: Can I chop some wood with you? Manly Dan just nods and waves her off. They fell the tree. Manly Dan: Haha! That's my little axechild! Wendy smiles and keeps chopping.

Something like that- obviously a lot of variables to be figured out- but I love the teenage feeling of this and love that it gives Wendy a story and a flaw. Still needs work to make her better but it's a start.

End image ID.]

[coffeeheartaddict2]

Forbidden Fruits

Book: Open Heart

Characters: Ethan Ramsey, F!MC Casey Valentine

Word count: 549

Category: smut

Rating: Mature

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual content (masturbation)

Summary: It is the end of the first day for the new batch of interns and one in particular catches the eye of Ethan.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Authors note: Welcome to smuttember. Thank you @rafasgirl23415-2 for the prompt. Prompt appears in bold

🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃

It had been an interesting day as much as it was infuriating. A new intern class always made him feel this way but there was one intern that had piqued his interest…somehow.

He met her that morning, in an emergent situation and chewed her out. He knew he was being harsh but the sensation in his arm when he helped her with the incision had thrown him. “It was just a stressful situation” he had told himself but he had been in more stressful situations and had no such reaction. She did later redeem herself by figuring out what was wrong with her first patient.

He went to Donahue’s, in need of a drink. As soon as he entered he knew he should have gone home. The bar was full with all the new interns blowing off some steam after a long shift. He knew that the quiet drink he craved was not going to happen but his regular spot was free and Reggie was getting his normal drink when he saw him. He took a sip and did what he did best and observe. Then he spotted her. Dr Valentine. She had been in scrubs all day and he did find her attractive but he was not prepared for how she looked in that sinful outfit.

“She is an intern!” He mentally told himself. “Forbidden, by your own principles” the inner monologue continued.

While he was putting the thoughts of impropriety out of his mind, she came out.

They shared a scotch with each other, he was duly impressed that she knew why he liked scotch neat. She then asked if there was someone waiting for him at home. The internal monologue was playing so he was able to state that there was no one waiting for him, despite other parts of him wishing that he was taking her home.

After enjoying a second drink, Reggie’s special, he took his leave and went back to his empty apartment. Even though the weather was mild his apartment felt cold. He craved the company of Dr Valentine. His thoughts went to the outfit she wore. How it showed off her curves, accentuated her breasts. The thoughts of impropriety again forced their way forward. He decided it was a losing battle.

He went into his shower. He was already painfully hard. He started stroking himself, imagining that Dr Valentine was in the shower with him, her naked body quivering at his touch, he imagined her going down on him, taking him fully in her mouth.l, swirling her tongue along his length as he entered her mouth again and again. He then imagined taking her from behind, the water cascading over both of them, her moans as he entered her and thrust deep. He could feel himself get close and he pumped harder, wishing it was Dr Valentine he was pounding into. At last he succumbed to his release. It felt empty, given how vivid the fantasy was. He told him self again that she was forbidden as he got ready to go into a restful sleep.

He awoke the next morning, a small amount of guilt at the night before. He put it out of his mind. “She is an intern” he told himself as he got ready for work.

——-

Authors note: Short but not too sweet. In my world the guilt at masturbaitng to the thoughts get worse and worse as book one goes on. He did not know her that well professionally or personally at this point so the guilt was easier to be assaunged. Thanks for the ask again.

Tagging: @cariantha @rafasgirl23415-2 @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @genevievemd @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @bex-la-get @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @youlookappropriate @snoopdogcone @trappedinfanfiction @alj4890 @schnitzelbutterfingers @binny1985 @tessa-liam @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

[invisibleraven]

For the Fluff + Angst prompts:

8. "Wake up dammit!" (for Willex pls, if that's okay)

Alex blinked open his bleary eyes and smiled to himself as he noticed Willie slumbering beside him. Not that he thought he would up and leave Alex in the middle of the night, but it was still a relief.

They had snuck out the night before, after another fight with his parents about all the young ladies he should be spending time with instead of playing with the band or watching Willie skate. How maybe the Christian camp that healed people like him might be a good idea for his summer.

Never mind that he was legally an adult and they couldn't force him. Nor that Sunset Curve had a tour booked throughout California come July, ending with their Orpheum showcase.

Either way, he had texted WIllie, slipped out his window and the two of them took off. Finding a club that took their shitty fakes to dance the night away. They didn't even drink, but it was worth it to sneak in so they could dance together without getting the stink eye for being two men.

After that Willie took them to a little outcropping looking over downtown-his secret spot that he went to when his foster dad was getting on his case about giving up the skating to work at his club. Or applying his art skills to more than graffiti and designing boards.

They might have fooled around a little-a thrill even though they were alone for miles, they were still outside. But Alex had loved it, letting himself give himself over to a bit of wild and crazy.

Afterwards they had mapped the stars, and apparently, fell asleep.

Which would be fine if Alex's parents didn't do bed checks at five in the goddamn morning-an hour soon approaching if the lightening of the sky was anything to go by. Also confirmed by his watch as the hands turned closer and closer to the hour. Meaning Alex had to get home and get home now!

He shook WIllie frantically. "Wake up dammit!"

Willie shot up, eyes flitting from side to side, finally settling on Alex and gave him an easy going smile that melted away to concern when he could see the anxiety painting Alex's features. He then took in the oncoming sunrise and swore. "Fuck, we fell asleep."

"Yup, and if I am not in my bed by the time five hits my parents may murder me!" Alex exclaimed, looking about to make sure they had everything. Secure they did, they raced down the hill, jumping on their bikes and pedalling like crazy.

The wind whipped through their hair as they biked through the relatively empty streets, heading towards the Mercer house as the time clicked closer and closer to five.

Alex could barely breathe as his legs pumped overtime. But he wasn't sure how much of that was his anxiety ramping up and how much of it was how hard he was working to make his bike go as fast as humanly possible. He glanced at his watch, hissing as it ticked over to 4:58 as his house came into sight.

He tossed his bike into the shed, climbing his trellis, and looked down to where Willie was watching. "See you later?"

Willie nodded, then waved him onwards, tapping his watch. Alex blew him a kiss-fuck the time.

He rolled into his window, and under his covers just as the door opened. He hoped he wasn't breathing too hard to make his mother suspicious. Though he heard her little harrumph as she stalked over, shutting and locking his window. She never approved of him sleeping with it open, even though he ran hot and she refused to let the AC run.

With that she stalked out again, not bothering to close the door behind her-she never did. She expected Alex up at six, regardless of the day so they could attend the early church service before he got on with his day. He took micro naps during the sermons-having perfected not looking like he was sleeping long ago.

It wasn't until he heard her go down to the kitchen that Alex let himself relax. They had cut it too close this time. Which meant no more midnight sneak outs any time soon. He reached over and popped his Ativan, letting himself bask in the memories of this time, since they would have to last him.

It was just until graduation anyways-they he and Reggie were going to leave their awful families behind and join Luke in living in Bobby's garage. Then they were off on tour, and after that he and Willie would have enough to get some place of their own.

A place they could be themselves, no sneaking out or secrecy involved. A place where they could be finally free.

[skelavender]

Mulder’s eyes are locked on Scully. Living, breathing Scully, who is not in a hospital bed. Instead, Modell is the one who lay dying in front of them, head bandaged and tubes pumping oxygen and whatever else into his body.  He reaches for her hand and takes it in his own. She doesn’t grab him back, but allows for the touch. “I say we dont let him take up another minute of our time.” Scully squeezes his hand. “Come on, sweetheart, let's go home.”

read chapter two of shelter on ao3, or below the cut!

February 1996

“Mine or yours?“

Mulder looks up to see Scully lingering by the door with her long jacket folded over her arm, clearly on her way out. 

“Mine,” he answers simply, “I’ll head out soon, I want to finish reading this first. I should be back by the time you get there if you’re stopping at home first. You have your key?”

“Yes. See you soon, Mulder.” She offers a smile, and she’s gone. 

It’s become a habit, staying at each other’s houses. They’re both sleeping much better, and are therefore less likely to take mid-workday naps. 

After Scully had shown up in the middle of the night, Mulder had invested in a bed. Crazy concept. If Scully was going to keep showing up to sleep – which, apparently, she was – he wasn’t going to make her do so on the floor or couch. 

She does beat him to his place, despite stopping by her own apartment to shower first, and when Mulder enters he is greeted by the smell of vanilla — the body scrub Scully uses at the end of a particularly long week. Given the case they’re in the middle of, he thinks it’s warranted. 

Between the disaster of Modell’s arraignment, Holly attacking Skinner, and the deaths of multiple law enforcement officers, things had been stressful to say the least. Mulder was happy to be guaranteed a solid night’s sleep tonight, thanks to Scully’s company. 

He knows Scully needs both the proximity and the rest just as much as he does. When they had been informed that Modell had pulled Mulder’s file, she had immediately been most concerned about him having Mulder’s address. He could basically see the images flashing in her mind, Modell invading his home like Eugene Tooms and Duane Barry had through hers. She wasn’t going to leave him alone right now, and he didn’t exactly cherish the idea either. There was no point in avoiding the apartment, though. If Modell wanted to find them, he would.

Scully’s in the kitchen, pajama-clad and leaning over a steaming pizza. She turns to greet him with a soft smile, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, “If that’s from Caprotti’s, I might have to marry you. Again.”

“You better dig your tux out then.”

Mulder slides his hand onto her lower back when he approaches her, “God, you’re the best.” He lays a kiss on her temple before grabbing a slice. 

They eat over the counter, chatting idly around the real concerns for their safety. Eventually they crawl into bed, Mulder on the right, Scully on the left, as always. They fall asleep with hands clasped in the space between their bodies, holding on for dear life. 

***

Here’s what the gossip mill of the FBI, with all their teasing names and idolization of profiling skills, doesn’t know about Fox Mulder: he’s a fucking klutz. 

Even Scully didn’t notice it until she started spending significant time at either of their homes with him. He takes his contact lenses out as soon as he gets home, but only remembers to put his glasses on to compensate for the fact half the time. The result is many bruises blooming on limbs that have bumped into furniture, door frames, hell, even Scully had acted as an accidental obstacle on more than a couple occasions. 

At the moment, the both of them sitting against the headboard of Scully’s bed as they wind down for bed, Mulder has miraculously managed to get a pair of glasses on his face. However, the pair he’s squinting through while trying to read the book propped against his knees aren’t his own. 

They’re Scully’s.

Her backup pair, that is. The ones from a couple years ago, which are out of style and the prescription is slightly too weak. That means, of course, that they are far too weak for Mulder. Hence the squinting. She doubts that he’s even managing to read any words on the page. Not that Scully's any more focused – she keeps glancing up to the mirror across from her bed to look at Mulder, to take in his relaxed posture, the furrow between his brows, the press of his lips together. 

She doesn’t know how they got so… domesticated, so comfortable in each other’s presence that they can just borrow each other’s stuff with such ease. She loves it. 

Her eyes run down the reflection of Mulder’s neck, his arms, how his fingers are curled around the book. As if he can feel her gaze dance across his skin, he squirms, revealing a patch of skin just below his elbow. A very purple patch of skin.

She turns to him, “Did you bump into the doorframe again?”

“Hm?” Mulder tears his eyes off the book and looks at her through her own glasses.

“Your arm,” She gestures to him, “Did you hit it on the doorframe again?”

“Oh,” he twists his arm and looks down at it. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Let me see.” She places the bookmark on the relevant page and sets it on her nightstand before opening her hand to summon Mulder’s elbow. He offers it, and she inspects the skin. 

“I don’t know how you manage to do this to yourself so often,” Scully murmurs.

“I swear, Scully, they move. We ought to open an X-file on the ever-changing layout of doorways in the DC area.”

She shakes her head with an affectionate smile, and pivots to rustle through her nightstand drawer. She removes a tube of arnica she had started keeping there for this exact reason, and reclaims Mulder’s elbow.

“Scully, it’s fine, really.” He protests, but doesn’t reclaim possession of his elbow.

“Which one of us has a medical degree, Mulder? Let me help.” She squirts an appropriate amount of gel onto her own index and middle fingers, rubs them against her thumb to decrease the sting of the cold, and applies it to Mulder’s arm. She lets her fingers dance in circles across his skin until the stickiness has faded, and she can’t justify the contact any further. 

When her eyes lift to reach his again, he’s already staring at her. “Thanks, Scully.”

“Of course. Anytime.”

“About time for lights-out?”

“That sounds good.”

They both turn off their bedside lamps, and settle into the bed. Within minutes they’ve met in the middle of the bed, and Scully doesn’t bother trying to find an excuse to touch him. 

***

Mulder’s eyes are locked on Scully. Living, breathing Scully, who is not in a hospital bed. Instead, Modell is the one who lay dying in front of them, head bandaged and tubes pumping oxygen and whatever else into his body. 

He reaches for her hand and takes it in his own. She doesn’t grab him back, but allows for the touch.

“I say we dont let him take up another minute of our time.” Scully squeezes his hand. “Come on, sweetheart, let's go home.”

Over the years, they’ve started referring to just about anywhere as home. “Mulder, let’s go home” could mean a motel room, DC, his place, her place, the office, anything. He’s not sure which home she means, but he knows wherever they end up, home will be an apt descriptor. As long as Scully is there. 

Scully all but pulls him out of the hospital room, leading him by the contact of their hands. They walk all the way to the car with their hands linked, and don’t let go until they need to.

Home, as Scully had used it, turns out to be his apartment. Mulder lays awake with his partner in his arms, mind racing. 

He had almost killed her. There was a bullet in the chamber and his finger on the trigger, and he had almost killed Scully. His partner. His wife. 

There would have been no going back from that. 

He thinks it must have been intentional, Modell must have put the bullet in the third chamber knowing he would make Mulder turn it on Scully, shoot her, kill her. He wanted to do as much damage to Mulder as he could on his way out, and knew exactly how to do it. Mulder would never be able to live with that guilt. He would, and did, sooner point the gun at his own head than Scully’s.

Instead, Modell would be the one spending the rest of his life in a hospital bed with a bullet in his head, the one meant for Scully. 

He hadn’t hesitated when Modell told him to turn the gun on himself, but the potential of losing Scully, the potential of being the one responsible for ripping her from this world, had made him strong enough to resist. That, and Scully’s encouragement, her unwavering faith that he would be able to shake Modell’s influence. 

There hadn’t been any doubt, per se, in his mind that he loved her before this whole ordeal. But such a close brush with death, just those few minutes of sharp, intense fear of having to live in a world without her… it was some of the worst pain he’d been in. Some of the worst grief. The same, bone-deep and all-consuming pain that Samantha’s absence had brought. To have such a large, gaping hole inside him, nowhere for the love to land. It’s a very different type of relationship, yes, but the grief tastes the same.

Mulder’s fingers dance across Scully’s hair and he lets the repeated motion, along with her consistent breathing, soothe him. She’s alive. She’s alive, and she’s in his arms. He can see that she’s safe, feel her breath against his shirt, press his palm to her back and let it rise and fall with her. He just can’t get the what-ifs out of his head. 

He shudders, and holds his partner tighter. Unconscious, she does the same. 

***

When Mulder wakes a couple days later, Scully is already awake with her head on his chest, eyes open and staring off into space. His face is buried in her hair, and he presses a kiss there to let her know he’s awake. 

“Hey,” Her voice is floaty, absent. Like she’s thought so hard it’s brought her into another world. 

“Hey.” He lets the silence stretch for a moment. “What’s got you thinking so hard?”

Scully bites her lip, hesitant to tell him about the idea she’s been rolling over in her mind, the one she’s been trying and failing to talk herself out of. “I’m not sure this is… sustainable.”

Mulder tenses under her. He is so, so not ready to have a potential divorce conversation. “You mean our, uh…”

“What?” She lifts up on her elbow to look at him, and reads his face plain and clear. “Oh, no, Mulder, not like that. I mean staying over every night, alternating apartments.”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll, uh, get out of your hair–” He shifts to slip out from under her and get out of bed, but she stops him with a hand to his arm.

“Not like that.” They settle back into their spots, Scully’s head on Mulder’s chest. Her voice is shaky when she confesses, “I sleep better with you closeby, and I think you do too. I want to continue that, I just…” She takes a deep breath and takes the plunge, “What do you think about moving in together?”

“Oh.” Mulder’s a bit floored by that. This conversation was going in the complete opposite of the direction he was expecting. The silence stretches for a moment while he considers it.

“What’re you thinking, Mulder?” 

“Well we could save a lot of money on rent if we moved into a two bedroom.”

“And on phone bills.” Scully reasons. 

“And we could carpool – save on gas.”

“Mhmm,” Scully affirms. They’re both quiet for a moment, mulling it over, before she continues, “So, mine or yours? Or somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else, I think. Something fresh. Are you married to Georgetown?”

“I’m married to you.”

He smiles at that. He’s not looking at her, so he doesn't see the open wound of sincerity in her eyes.

Scully continues, “Alexandria is fine. It’s cheaper. We’re being… pragmatic.”

“Pragmatic… yeah.”

“Reasonable.”

“Mhmm.”

“So,” she lifts her head to look at him again, “Do you want to get the paper to look through the listings, or should I?”

<- previous chapter next chapter ->

[pixeldistractions]

When Colette made it down to the kitchen, she was pleased to see homework books open and being worked on. One less thing to stress about. Dinner though. She called in an order for takeout. Colette didn’t cook. Actually, that was another thing Jordan left them to deal with on their own. As it turned out, he cooked more than she did. And even when he didn’t cook, he often brought leftovers home from the hotel kitchen or brought the boys in after school for dinner.

So much for that. But Colette wasn’t broke, and they would eat somehow.

“We can go on the train,” Milo suggested after she’d hung up the phone. “We can ride it by ourselves. You don’t even have to take us.”

“No,” Colette said. “You can’t, actually. Not until you’re ten. And I’m not sending you to live in a camper. But since you all love to go behind my back, why don’t you tell your dad to get a real place to live? He doesn’t even have electricity—did he tell you that? Could you live without all your video games for even a weekend? Just finish some of that homework. I do not want another email from your teacher. C’s are not acceptable. And I hate your hair like that, it’s too long.”

“God, Mom, chill,” Felix said. “Maybe if you weren’t so crazy all the time, Dad wouldn’t’ve left.”

She felt that one like a dagger in her gut.

Milo didn’t chime in, but he didn’t defend her honor, either.

Those boys would never know how close they’d come to seeing their beloved game console spiked through the center with the sharp heel of her pump, shattered into pieces, then scooped up in a dustpan and thrown into the bay.

But she didn’t do that, because she was a grown-up. She was the one who held everything together and cleaned up everyone else’s messes.

To hell with both of them. To hell with everything and everyone.

She closed her eyes, balled her fists so tight that her fingernails made crescent-shaped indents in her palms. “I’m having a bath,” she said. “That homework will be finished by the time I’m done or God help me, I will throw your games into fucking bay! And if you don’t think I can throw that far from here, I dare you to try me.”

There was tension in her shoulders that she needed someone to pound out. She could also use a good pounding, but she couldn’t begin to imagine how to make that happen now. Jordan had been good at giving both, once upon a time. Shame he had to fail her in absolutely every other possible way.

She had her yearly checkup that morning.

Your blood pressure is high. Are you getting any exercise? Eating fresh fruits and veggies? Making time for self-care?

Please. Her children’s father fucked off to the wilderness on a journey of enlightenment or some bullshit and excuse me, fucking self-care? Can you just get the exam over with and get me out of this paper gown?

Colette didn’t have any date to go on. She did match with a trauma surgeon on her dating app, and he did sound very successful. She had been hopeful that he could administer a good pounding, or at the very least, maybe he could help with her high blood pressure. But she didn’t have a babysitter for the boys, because their father was a flake.

The boys were asleep and their homework books were stacked by the time her bath was finished. She wasn’t going to check the homework. She knew there was no possible way Milo could complete his fifteen missing assignments in one night.

They had eaten the takeout she ordered, and she didn’t order anything for herself. She would eat rice crackers from a paper bowl.

Self-care? She cleaned a whole man out of her house, and maybe that was her self-care.

What few things he left here she threw in the trash—a toothbrush, a small pile of dirty work clothes, a pair of muddy boots. As it turned out, she never let him keep much here in the first place.

But the couch smelled like him, like orange soap and wood chips and campfire smoke. So she trashed that, too. And she bought another one. She spent a whole paycheck on it, and she framed the whole room around it. This wasn’t the kind of couch anyone would ever sleep on. The leather was cold and hard, the angles sharp, the color was an eye-searing fuchsia, and the design was exquisite. It was like a piece of art.

She bought a flamboyant vase for a very fake plant. She bought a thin bookcase for books she wouldn’t read. The room felt beautiful and hollow.

— from “boxes and squares #4.1: first fall apart” (4/5)

Next ->

[bebepac]

Six Sentence Sunday 06.11.23 / Mood Music Monday

It is what it is, and sometimes you just have to walk away and hope for the best.  I’ve been so busy and it’s been very difficult to write, even though I have a nice little spot for it now that I created.  I have more items coming in on Tuesday to make it the perfect writing space / office space.  I’m really trying to upper level adult here, save some money, pay down some things, and next year, take that Greece Trip I that I couldn’t in 2020  when it got cancelled due to Covid, The one I imagined in the epic birthday Fic  Greek Meat.  

Tags have been beyond crazy  so if you missed anything I’ve written in the past few weeks here it is: 

The Moments In Between (Riley x Drake) 

The Rotten Apple 🍎:  The Last Part

Original Post: 6/11/23 at 8:47PM EST.

Chapter 5: Moonlight Rendevous The Book:  TRR (no royals) The Series:  The Blue Honey Cafe The pairings: TRR MC is single Status:  Still in the writing process / almost complete!

Mason was chivalrous, a complete southern gentleman.  He had not only opened the door on her own vehicle, he had waited for her to get in and gently close the door behind her.  When they made it to Wheelz,  Mason jumped out of the vehicle like a rocket, as soon as it was parked, opening the door for her once more.  

“Will you at least let me pay for the skate rental?”

“No, it’s the least I can do for your being kind enough to take me home tonight.”  

“I’m not heartless, I wouldn’t leave you stranded like that.”

“It’s the south,  I was far from stranded. But I’m glad you decided to indulge your blooming southern charm to help me out. Come on, let’s see what you’ve got out there on the rink.”  

It quickly turned into healthy competition and showboating between the two as they skated around the rink.

“Not bad New York.  Not bad at all.”   Mason laid on a thickly horrible new york accent.

“Likewise North Cakalacky.”  Riley said with an even worse southern accent.

The last skate turned out to be a couple’s skate.  The music was slow, and had a romantic feel. She found herself leaning closer into Mason, who had a boyish grin on his face, and he in turn pulled her closer to him too, his hand gripping hers tighter.

Driving back neither said a word, lost in their own thoughts.  When they pulled to a stop at Mason’s apartment, Riley was the first to speak.  

“I really enjoyed spending this time with you Mason.  I feel like we got a chance to get to know each other a little bit better, and we’re both a little competitive apparently.”  

Mason laughed.   “Right?!?!?! Nothing like some good healthy competition to get the blood pumping. But seriously Riley,  I had a great time with you too.”

He paused for a moment.  

“You know Riley, tonight doesn’t have to end  right now if you don’t want it to.”

Riley’s eyes met Mason’s.  “Are you asking me up to your place?”  

“I am, It’s your choice.  I promise to be the perfect gentleman.”  

“What if I don’t want you to be, Mason?”  

Mood Music Monday Submission The Final Chaper:  The Wedding Series:  The Rotten Apple🍎 The Book:  TRH and beyond Pairings:  Eleanor x Nico  (Eleanor x M!OC) Song Inspiraton (2 of 2)  Favorite Song by Toosii

“Eleanor and Nicolas! Stop with the kissy face already! Acting like there isn’t a wedding today! You come with me! And you! Put on a damn shirt! She’s already pregnant!”

Elle burst out laughing.

“Mama! Seriously!!”

“Yes I’m serious, you put on some damn clothes!”  

Mama K was brutally honest and very hilarious. Once back in the room with Mama K, she looked at Elle in silence for a moment.  “I presume you two are alright.”  

“Better than ever.”  

“Then let's get you dressed.”

“Thank you Mama.  You have no idea how much this means to me.”  

“Yes I do Eleanor, because you have told me a thousand times already.  You are loved immeasurably today, and always by me.  You are my daughter, and you make my son incredibly happy.  And after today, all of us will finally be family by law, but we’ve always been family in the eyes of God.”

There was a soft knock to the door.  

“It better not be Nico trying to sneak over here.” Mama K opened the door and smiled quickly ushering her into the room.

“You have a guest Elle.”  

“I hope I'm not too late.”

“LIBBY!”

“Great you’re not dressed yet,  I thought maybe I could help too?  And I have a gift for you. Something old and borrowed. Mama K said she already handled the something blue.”  

“Libby… I can't wear that.  It’s Mother’s.”  

“She always said she wanted her daughters to wear this on their weddings.  You’re getting married.”

Elle shook her head.  “She wouldn’t want me…. She didn’t want me….”  

“Wear it Elle.  It’s a piece of your mother, even though she couldn’t be here with you. I know this is not how you wanted things to be, but you are surrounded by the people who love you, just like Nico said. We love you Elle.”  

Today, with the help of her sister, and “Mother,” she was putting on a dress, unlike any other dress.   

A dress in  a style she never thought she would ever want to wear again, a dress she thought was incredibly beautiful, that would in addition to the vows, give her a new life.She was leaving this room Eleanor Rys, but by the end of the day she would be Eleanor Karahalios,  Wife of Nicolas, mother of Eliana, and the little one growing in her belly at that moment. It’s finally time for the best part.

“I feel beautiful.”  

“You look beautiful.”  

“It’s really happening,  I’m getting married today.”  

[antique-ann]

A One-Shot of A Dream I Had..

Chayanne and Tallulah were back at Wilbur's playing in the tree house. Chayanne was jumping around doing water bucket clutches from the patio, while Tallulah was reading the books Phil had put in the tree house. They were waiting on Phil to come back from getting some materials so they can go on an adventure today.

"Tallulah... oh Tallulah... Don't be afraid we're just here to visit!" they heard call out from below the tree. Two strangers were approaching the tree in search for them. They noticed Chayanne as he climbed up the tree house to protect Tallulah, sword in hand ready to battle. Tallulah dropped her book and hid behind Chayanne.

The strangers started climbing up the tree and Chayanne immediately urged Tallulah to the patio, and he jumped to the ground, water bucket clutching. He left the water on the ground and screamed "Tallulah! Jump! Jump!" Tallulah without hesitation, jump into the water below.

They both ran towards to waypoint as fast as their little legs could, but when they got to the waypoint, they were surround by the strangers. Chayanne body blocked Tallulah from them and whispered, "When I say go, take the waypoint back to abuelo's. Get help." Tallulah didn't want to leave her favourite tio behind, but she knew they needed help and nodded.

"There you are little Tallulah..." one of the strangers hissed, his eyes narrowed at the eggs with a hint of crazy. "Give her to us... we just wanted to see her real face... they said if we cracked her open and see her real face... we would become gods of the island..." they continued as they slowly crept their way closer to the two eggs, cornering them.

Chayanne gripped his sword tighter from fury, the whole time keeping his eyes on the strangers for sudden movements. "GO TALLULAH GO." Chayanne screamed, and Tallulah took the waypoint. The last thing she saw was Chayanne fighting off the now angry strangers with his life.

"ABUELO! ABUELO!" Tallulah called out, panic and fear running through her veins as she ran around the top of the wall looking for Phil. Phil had heard the pop of the waypoint and appeared around his stack of chest by his dirt roofed house. "Tallulah? What's wrong?" he rushed to her as she flung herself into her abuelo's arms. "Tio... danger... strangers..." she sobbed into his chest.

In a blink, she was in Chayanne's room with Phil by the door. "Stay here. I'm getting Chayanne home. I promise." He gave a little peck on her head before closing the door. The last thing Tallulah heard were the sound of crows cawing and fluttering away in unison and the pop of the waypoint.

Chayanne was fighting off the strangers with everything he had. Putting in crits and blocking hits with his shield like how Phil had taught him, but he was slowly losing his strength. "YOU SHIT EGG. WHERE HAS SHE GONE?!" the strangers demanded angrily. Chayanne placed another good hit to one of the stranger’s ribs with the hilt of his sword, a small crack sounded.

Chayanne, out of breath and huffing, was about to give in when suddenly he heard a pop from the waypoint. All of them paused in their tracks and turned to look, to find a man with pitch black wings spread open, pointed high, surrounded with a threatening and commanding aura. "LEAVE. MY CHILD. ALONE." Phil glared at the strangers with piercing blue eyes filled with rage and the promise of death.

Normally, people would have cowered in fear or run away with their tails tucked between their legs. For Chayanne, it was the first time he saw his gentle and funny dad that angry, and he stared in awe and admiration at the beauty and terror that is the Angel of Death himself. Chayanne decided in that second that he will become just like his dad.

"Chayanne. Come." Phil called out and Chayanne sprinted to his dad. Phil caught Chayanne in his arms and carried him, holding him close. Even with rage pumping through Phil's veins, his hold was gentle and full of love. Chayanne snuggled into his shoulder. Suddenly, the sky turned dark, as dark as the void. Behind Phil and Chayanne was the sound of wings fluttering, and a murder of crows cawing loudly.

Chayanne watched as Phil lifted his sword and slowly pointed it towards the two strangers. The crows dived past Phil and Chayanne towards the strangers, and all Chayanne could see was black feathers swarming and consuming the strangers into the darkness. Phil placed Chayanne down and nodded towards the waypoint. Chayanne placed his hand on the waypoint and teleported, the last sound he heard were the tortured cries of the strangers.

On the other side of the waypoint, Tallulah paced around anxiously, she tried playing her flute to calm down, but it didn't work. She was about to throw her flute onto the ground out of frustration when suddenly two pops from the waypoint reached her ears. Phil opened the door and Tallulah rushed out to greet her tio with a tight hug, let out a sigh of relief. "You're okay!" she exclaimed.

Tallulah clung to Chayanne like her life depended on it. "I wished I was stronger; I could have helped." she whispered sadly as the weight of the stressed sunk into her shell. She felt a hand giving her soothing pats. "You did Tallulah! You got abuelo to help! If you didn’t, I don't know what would have happened." Chayanne pointed out. "I helped...? Tallulah looked up at Phil and Chayanne with tears in her eyes. "You did sweet child." Phil assured as he carried both Chayanne and Tallulah into his arms.

"The strangers wanted to crack Tallulah open." Chayanne voiced out. "They said they would become gods of the island if they saw my real face." Tallulah chimed in. Phil frowned. "The fuck? That’s bullshit. Someone is probably trying to kill the surviving eggs again by spreading rumours. This island is fucked up!" he thought out loud. "Don't worry. I will protect you with my life and I'll punt the fucker who made up that rumour." Phil promised and the two eggs nodded.

He carried them into Chayanne's room and sat on the bed. "You both have been really, really brave today. I'm so proud of you." He hugged them close. Chayanne and Tallulah looked at each other, safe and sound, being smothered in love, and they cried.

They held each other as they let it all out, Phil snuggled them close and shielded them from the world with his wings. They stayed like that until they all fell asleep, which was how Wilbur found them when he came home.

[thatbanditqueen]

Based on the comment section between you and @whositmcwhatsit on that ask 👀 what palm springs girl 🫣 and any interviews you mind sharing of him on downers that i can listen to? I’ve never really paid attention I don’t think

This is a 1972 interview where I can REALLY tell his is fucked up....

I found it here and orginally got that link from @lynettethemadscientist's amazing compilation of interviews and film links....

As for the girl... warning the guys say she was 14, but she was actually 18 and @whositmcwhatsit very kindly added a newspaper source in their reblog.... here is the excerpt from Alanna Nash' Elvis and the Memphis Mafia book .... as a side note, anything Alanna Nash wrote or interviews she did should probably be taken w a grain of salt.

MARTY LACKER: That year, ’71, was when the overdoses started. The worst one happened after a show at Tahoe. Sonny told me about it. Elvis saw this girl in the second row, and he was really taken with her. She was a teenager. Real innocent. A nondrinker, nonsmoker. Didn’t even wear makeup. And she was crazy about Elvis Presley. She and her mother would drive to Vegas to see him. And her mother was with her at the Tahoe show.

Elvis waved to her from the stage, and after the show, he told Sonny to bring her backstage. She sent her mother home, and she stayed with Elvis that night and, actually, for quite a bit of his engagement. He’d give her pills so she could keep up his hours.

One night after the show, they went to Palm Springs. Elvis was taking Hycodan, which is a narcotic, analgesic cough syrup. In large doses, that stuff’s dangerous. Elvis and this girl were drinking it out of champagne glasses. They didn’t go to bed until about four A.M., and when they did, they took their Hycodan with them.

By one o’clock the next day, Elvis wasn’t up. Sonny banged on the door. And when Elvis didn’t answer, he went inside. It was like a meat locker in there, Elvis kept the temperature so low. Sonny said Elvis was sprawled across the bed lengthways, and his breathing was real erratic.

Well, Sonny freaked out and went and got Hamburger James. And it took a while, but they eventually got Elvis up, and slapped him back to consciousness. Then he took some Ritalin and came out of it.

The girl was another story. She was in much worse shape. They couldn’t slap her awake, and she barely had a pulse. Sonny said she was dying right there in front of them.

They phoned Dr. Kaplan and he came up there and called an ambulance. He was shocked at how far gone she was, and he warned them that she probably wouldn’t make it. She was already turning blue. Elvis was telling him what to do, you know, “Just give her a shot of Ritalin and shell pop out of it.” I think everybody was pretty disgusted by that. But he used to just hand out Ritalin tablets to all of us in the late sixties. Elvis was just Ritalin nuts. He always thought no matter how bad you got, that’s all you needed. He also thought it was a good way to wake up.

Charlie was there, and he and Sonny followed the ambulance to the hospital. They pumped the girl’s stomach and hooked her up to life support, but Dr. Kaplan was still saying he didn’t think she’d live. But Elvis just waved it off. He said, “I told her not to drink so much of that.” And he went in the bedroom and called Colonel Parker and John O’Grady, I think, and Dick Grob, to make sure the Palm Springs police stayed out of it and that it didn’t hit the papers. And then they came up with this plan that if she did die, Charlie would take the rap. He’d say she was his date, and he’d given her the stuff.

Elvis and the Memphis Mafia

Well, something like seventeen hours later, the girl came to. Charlie and Sonny went to the hospital, and Sonny said when he touched her arm, she came halfway off the bed and started hissing at him like a wild animal. It scared the shit out of him. The doctor said she was suffering from oxygen deprivation to the brain. Elvis paid her hospital bill, and he had Joe get in touch with her mother and offer her some money. But the mother wouldn’t take anything. She said they’d never sue. They didn’t want to hurt his image.

The thing is, Elvis never got in touch with that girl. Didn’t go to the hospital and didn’t call her when she got out.

Later on, Joe ran into her and her mother again in Vegas. They were there for the show, sleeping in their car. He got a room for them at the hotel, and Elvis paid for it. Sonny went to see her, and she told him she didn’t hold Elvis responsible. But Sonny said her whole personality had changed.

Elvis and the Memphis Mafia

LAMAR FIKE: I think this thing with the girl in Palm Springs got really close to Elvis, and the fact that she almost died scared the water out of him. And I think he thought, “Holy shit! I really got off lucky here! So let’s not bring this up anymore. I don’t want to think about it.”

But pretty soon he was back to his old ways. Elvis could pick out a girl in the third row, six chairs over, and say, “She’s going to go down tonight.” And he’d be right.

BILLY SMITH: He had a lot of fear there. At first, it was fear that “God, if she had died!” And then it was, “That dumb bitch! She could have jerked me down right with her and ruined my career!” He totally denied the fact that he was the cause of it.

MARTY LACKER: Elvis was a very selfish person in some regards. He did what he wanted to do, and he didn’t give a shit the way it affected anybody else.

BILLY SMITH: I think to some extent Elvis lost touch with the feelings of other people. He changed from humble to hard. Deep down, Elvis was a good person. He was just a victim of a lot of things that changed him and made him the way he was. He got more depressed in later years. The drugs enhanced the pressures, made them seem a lot worse. But he didn’t deal with them directly. Instead, he chose to take more drugs.

There were a lot of times I hoped he would snap out of it and become the strong individual that I’d seen in the earlier days. When he really wanted to, he could still focus and say, “Hold it. This is the way it’s going to be.” But he did that less in the later years.

pages 517 - 520

I would like to point out that this was 1971!!!!!!!! And all those boys just kept on working for him......

The worst part of reading this for me is that yes, its scary and horrifying, but I also know if I was in active addiction drinking hycodan I could absolutely see myself wanting to share that with a play mate, get them on my level, and not thinking about how my tolerance was accumulated over many years and my own study of pharmacology.... when you are doing that level of drugs you become completely desensitized to what is normal and not normal behavior. I also relate to wanting to use my power to get someone else to take the fall.... Elvis was the first mega rock star in many ways, he didn't have anyone ahead of him whose example he could really follow.... Rudy Vallee? Bing Crosby? Johnny Cash didn't stay sober until 1992.... in many ways, through the shortfalls of his management, his film career, his drug addiction, Elvis was our sacrificial lamb to rock stardom... a Shakespearean tragedy....

The truth is, while I haven't lived that level of success or lifestyle, I can relate to Elvis in every aspect of his being, which is why I forgive him (is it my place, no, but I am one of his fans, so maybe yes?). Is it weird that I want him but also see parts of myself in him???? But also, when I write him in fic, I must confess that he is always an amalgamation of my own fantasies and my character study of him......

Sorry Bri - this got away from me, as it usually does.... here is a happy photo of him from 1977 to remind us it wasn't all dark, from Hawaii where he had luck kicking drugs for short periods of time....

xoxoxo Norah

[bubbiegumprincess]

about the angel dust request, that's totally fine : I'lI respect that boundary

as for the request, what if the reader was doing some bonding time with lucifer/alastor and then they bump into the other one (if they are out with lucifer then they bump into alastor or vice versa) and since y/n is friends with both, they have a *cough cough* ‘magnificent’ idea that they should come along on their outing too.

y/n is enjoying themselves whilst being oblivious to these two mfs bickering behind her back and being all nice to y/n to prove themselves as the better friend

idk this was some random idea so you don’t have to do it if there are any problems or if you don’t even feel like writing it :) anyways have a lovely day

okay so for this one i dont know if i got it exactly right so BARE WITH ME MY BRAIN IS SLOW AND I HAD TO READ THE REQUEST LIKE 40 TIME BLLEEEUHHH anyways!! enjoy and im sorry if i messed anything up :3

cw // swearing

BEHIND THE SCENES

You sit on the crimson couch, bored out of your mind. You sloppily pick up your phone that lay beside your shoulder and call Lucifer. "HEEEEEEEEEY" He responds, picking up a small, black duck with a red beak and fiery designs.

You grimace. "Wanna go out?" He pumps his fist and nods "Yeeeeaaauuuhhh, but can I have maybe 15 minutes, I'm working on this new design and-" You hang up and put your shoes on before leaving the house.

Once you reach Lucifer's home, you knock loudly and he answers. Before he can speak, you drag his arm out and go on a walk. "So. How have you been, what's new?" Lucifer says, giving you quick finger guns. "Not much, I've been pretty busy at the hotel but-"

Your speech is cut off by a tall figure. "Hello, my dear!!" A dated voice says. Alastor. "Alastor, hey." You smile a bit at his sudden appearance but are shocked quickly when he walks beside you.

"Lucifer, I see you're as- laid back as usual." The radio demon spits through his everlasting grin. "You're just as worn out as I remember, that's crazy, isn't it? Anyways, me and y/n are gonna be going on a stroll, it was so nice to-"

"Nonsense, Lucifer!! I have nothing better to do and I would just love to take you to the bookstore, my good lady." Alastor smiles at a flabbergasted expression coming from you. "I'm sure she would prefer to go to the ice cream parlor." Lucifer interjects.

"Both are fi-"

"No worries, y/n! We'll get you that book as soon as possible." Alastor grins as Lucifer huffs. "Why don't we treat ourselves to ice cream after then? I'll get you your favorite, eh?" He returns with the finger guns. And you reply with a nod.

"I'm sure this will go splendid, won't it, Lucifer?"

______________________________________________________________

thats all i gawt 😫tysm forr requesting and oh my GOD i'm exhausted and MY GREATEST APOLOGIES IF I GOT ANNYTHING WRONG ONCE AGAIN!! HAVE A LOVELY DAY/NIGHT :33

[the-pinstriped-hood]

La courbure de la luxure

(the curvature of lust)

This is an 18+ smut fic, if you aren't 18 and older. LEAVE. (Thank you to @texaschainsawslvt for helping me find a title to this.)

Ava and Lester had taken Percy out of town with them for a trip and there was a nagging need pestering the mechanic like no tomorrow. It made him flushed when he was alone, working on his cars, the music barely being touched. He needed to drown the voices in his head. He had never gone this long without one of him and Percy's little midday meetups.

Bo was absolutely disgruntled.

He couldn't focus, his mind was somewhere else that he desperately tried to stray from: The gutter.

The mechanic was already sweating in need, palm hard against the tire of the car as he finally gave in and went home, shutting the shop down early.

The house was empty. Not as dark as it had been ever since Percy moved in, placing lamps and other lights up. Bo's head swam with the thoughts of his lady underneath him, begging, crying out for more from him. The teeth clenching, spine bending sex he had with her often. No two sessions were always the same except for one constant: he was always the dominant one.

Hissing, whispering and leading Percy on mentally, she was always completely at his mercy.

Bo climbed the stairs to his room and closed the door behind him. Shutting the blackout curtains in their room threw him into shadow. He replaced the smell of amber and worn leather for that of Apple Cider and Pomegranates. He needed her touch, he craved feeling her fingers between his own, the smell of her peach scented shampoo in her hair drove him crazy. He needed her, they NEEDED to be one again. Stripping every last piece of clothing off of him, Bo was built from all the hard physical labor he subjected himself to with his hobby. Deep scratch marks etched themselves down his back, a gift from his lady from making her feel so full and content.

He laid back on the cold sheets after turning the warmer on. He needed to be rid of this feeling. Leg dangling off the bed, his foot touched something. The familiar feeling of a book. Bo sat up slowly, pulling the leather bound journal from it's hiding place under the mattress.

It was a leather bound hardcover journal. Percy's no doubt. He stared at it and sat it on the bed, opening it and eyes grazing off a few pages. His breathing slow as he could feel himself sinking back into that longing mindset. The most erotic poetry he had ever laid eyes upon was inked in the most beautiful calligraphy. Red ink.

Bo couldn't help but smile, holding the book with one hand and leaning back into bed. He felt heat race down to his loin with every passage. A blush so handsomely etched onto his face as his gaze grows ever more lascivious. He swallowed hard as his free hand edged itself ever closer to his awakening member. Bo closed his eyes and smirked, finally pulling it out and pumping himself with one hand and turning the page with another. Letting out a quiet moan he could practically hear Percy whisper every line into his ear like the most unholy scripture. His spine bent slightly and his movements became quicker as his sexual daydreams slowly spiraled out of control in the most beautiful way possible. His fingers grazing up and down his thick shaft as he quietly begged his lady to let him out of his torment, to come home. He needed her. Cock pumping into her sweetest hole as he littered kisses along every inch of her skin he could get his hands on. Whispering the dirtiest things into her ears as she went scarlet. Just the cutest look on her face as he filled her so thoroughly. The quietest sessions is what they lived for. In darkened spaces like these.

Bo's lip quivered as he was already close, practically hearing Percy cry out as he had made her orgasm for the third time that evening. With a strained cry, seed spilling all over his chest. Panting hard as his curls were once again glued to his forehead.

Eyes closed but the most blissful smile on the southern devil's lips was the most handsome.

He couldn't wait to tell Percy about her book.

Tag: @allthingsblood @rottent33th @slaasherslut @texaschainsawslvt @cries-in-latino

[somediyprojects]

The Tapestree Project is a memory cloth/tapestry stitched and designed by Rachel Samek (née Piso). This is an ongoing project in which she documents her life in cross-stitch. She stitches memories, current events, and anything that especially interests her. She keeps an online journal to recount why she chose certain motifs. The tapestree is stitched on 45ct. ivory Graziano linen with a range cotton embroidery thread. The cloth measures about three feet wide by two feet high.

[Reddit | Blog | Instagram | Facebook | Tumblr | Twitter]

Descriptions under the cut.

pics 1 & 2— I stitched these little gold scissors this week to remember the foggy, intense few months immediately following the birth of my boys. If you knew me around that time, you know that when I was just about 7 months pregnant, I was diagnosed with preeclampsia and received an emergency C-section at 31 weeks. All three guys were incredibly tiny (Charlie was 2 lb 12 oz) and as expected, they would go on to spend long (long, long) stretches in the NICU. Also expectedly, I was a wild mess. I was spending long days at the hospital in the middle of winter, feeling powerless, and as a result, I was killing myself trying to pump enough to keep up with three infants. During those delirious nights of waking up every few hours, I would collapse in front of Hulu (probably rewatching The Handmaid's Tale) and Hulu would do what Hulu did best: repeat the exact same commercial every 20 minutes. During those first weeks, that commercial was a trailer for the upcoming horror movie "Us." The score of the two-minute trailer is so unsettling that even though I would sometimes scramble to switch it off, it was also weirdly comforting to be shocked out of my weepy, helpless state of zombiehood. This came with the price of scaring myself shitless when I had to walk back to bed at 3 AM with the slowed-down, beefed up version of "I Got 5 On It" on repeat in my head. These scissors, a symbol from the movie, represent those weird, difficult postpartum nights. Whenever I hear the first few chords from the trailer, I'm immediately back in 2019, freezing cold on our old couch, fully panicked at life.

pics 3 & 4— I added more hairwork to my tapestree! Last fall, I cross stitched a tiny design using my boys’ hair. I tried again this weekend, using my own hair to make this equally tiny bird. One of the questions I get a lot with this project is whether I get burned out working on the same thing for so long. Yes, I get sick of it, mostly due to the pressure I put on myself to include things (like current events) out of obligation. This bird was one way to bring “me” back into it. If you know anything about the Victorians, you know that they loved crafting with hair. One way was braiding a lock and placing it in a book with a poem underneath—creating an ode to a person’s essence. Since it was fashionable to be sentimental, they made similar keepsakes as jewelry and other textile art. I’ve talked in the past about how much of a nightmare it is working with hair, but if you’re interested in seeing my process, you can find a highlight on my page that covers my last attempt. I also included a picture of the back of my stitching (first time ever!) so you can see the ridiculous knot it creates.

pics 5-7— I have a new tapestree addition! It's the weird little quilt at the very bottom! I have a bin in our basement with a bunch of the boys' preemie onesies. I have plans to make a quilt with them, but since that probably won't happen for another 20 years, I wanted to add something small to my tapestree. Half of the quilt blocks are snipped from the clothes with patterns that have the strongest memories of the boys being in the hospital (the white parts are fabric, for example). The rest is filled in with solid cross stitch. It's been a crazy few weeks! I recently started working full time again (from home, fortunately!) and we're starting to plan the boys' third birthday on December 14th. I can't believe it.🤍

[coffeeheartaddict2]

Night at the Museum

Book: Open Heart (post series)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Ramsey

Rating: 18+

Category: Smut

Warnings: sexual content, language

Summary: Ethan and Casey attend an opening evening for an Egyptian Exhibit.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

The Boston Museum was not a usual date night for Ethan and Casey but there was a new Ancient Egyptian Exhibition that both of them wanted to see and Ethan being Ethan got tickets to opening night.

Casey was a vision in gold. The dress hugging her in all the right places, his own personal Hathor. He was tempted to forgo the event when he saw her but she reminded him they were both looking forward to this exhibit. He saw her point but he did not have to like it.

The exhibit itself was wonderful. There were many artefacts. Casey was not the most knowledgeable on ancient Egypt but she knew enough to be intrigued. Ethan however was in his element. Telling Casey about the artefacts, the God’s, the Pharaohs and just about the civilisation in general. After awhile she was starting to wish that she took Ethan up on staying home. She did start, however, looking for alcoves that they could get a quiet moment alone.

He could sense that she was distracted, if he was being honest so was he, had been all night. He asked her what was wrong.

“Nothing is wrong.”

“If that is so then why are you looking around so much?” Asks Ethan as he puts his arm around her shoulder and kisses her cheek.

Then Casey spots a quiet alcove out of the way. She leads Ethan by the hand and he is powerless. She puts her arms around his neck and kisses him. Ethan returns the kiss and deepens it. He pushes her against the wall and she can feel how hard he is for her.

“This is why I was looking around, Dr Ramsey.” She whispers before kissing him, trailing her hand to the sizeable bulge at his front.

He lets out a hiss.

“We’ll get caught,” he whispers in her ear.

“Well, we’ll just have to keep quiet won’t we.” As she undoes his belt and zipper, releasing him from the confines of his boxers. She pumps his length which elicits a growl. He picks her up, hiking her dress around her waist and moving the drenched material of her thong to one side.

“So wet for me” he says before kissing the column of her neck and inserting three fingers. Casey gasps. Ethan sets a ferocious pace.

“I want you inside me” she pants before kissing him hard on his mouth. Ethan breaks the kiss.

“I’ll fuck you into oblivion after you come for me.”

At that he circles his thumb around her clit whilst pumping her with her with his three fingers. Casey holds out as long as she can but she falls, clenching around him.

Ethan groans as he lets her ride out the climax. Despite the orgasm, Casey is eager to continue. She guides him to her entrance. He thrusts his hips to enter whilst kissing her hard. She groans into his mouth. Casey tightens her legs around his waist and holds on tight to his shoulders. It does not take long for Casey to start climbing to her peak. She kisses nuzzles into his neck to disguise the moans. She can feel his thrusts start to feel shorter, she knows he is close. After getting closer to her peak she whispers “come for me Ethan” as she clenches around his cock. This triggers his climax. He grunts. His climax triggers Casey.

He holds her until she feel she can stand again unaided.

She hops down and arranges her dress whilst Ethan zips his trousers back up.

“Do you think anyone noticed?” Asked Casey.

“I don’t care if they did.” He says tucking a strand behind her ear. They make it back to the exhibit and have a final glass of wine before heading home.

——

Authors note: short and not so sweet. Third and final submission for cfwc naughty or nice event. Date: Museum and sex in a public place.

Also thank you for the lovely and wonderful Bree for the ask that inspired this fic.

Tagging: @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @genevievemd @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @bex-la-get @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @lucy-268 @schnitzelbutterfingers @binny1985 @tessa-liam

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

If anyone wishes to be added or taken off please let me know.

[nicosplace]

A/N: I finished the book and looked for fanfiction about dodge but couldn't find any.

To dodge it was all the same, get up ,come home , then see what the new panic challenge was that night .But this morning it was different, when Dodge got up he noticed his whole body hurt his head pounded and his Stomach was twisting and churning like crazy. "Must be from the challenge" he thought and all the adrenaline he used to try finish off the challenge. There were rumors that the police were closing in on the judge's and that the game might not continue. To everyone it wasn't a loss but to him it was, he wanted out of the town, dodge wake up!!" His mom yelled up. By the time he got Done getting ready  he rushed down the stairs seeing dayna already ready and eating her breakfast ( which he felt his stomach turn at the thought of eating.) " im leaving now not hungry!" He shouted before Dayna could ask what was wrong.

******time skip to the challenge **********

" OK TONIGHTS CHALLENGE IS YOU HAVE TO SPEND THE WHOLE NIGHT IN THAT HOUSE!!" Diggans yelled while everyone was pumped dodge was not he felt worse as the day went on and the heat wasn't helping while they got ready nat came over " hey you ok dodge? You don't looks so good." She asked concerned " yeah I'm fine just tired didn't get much sleep." He responded she nodded and left it there, the only thing she did was pull heather aside " keep an eye on dodge I'm going to do it to also he looks terrible, I'm worried about him." She whispered , heather nodded back at her.

***** during the middle of the night*****

When dodge woke up he was in extreme pain, what had started out as a simple stomach ache had morphed into something unbearable, he was moving so much that he woke heather up " dodge, dodge are you ok?? ." She asked when he responded with a whimper she knew it was bad. "Nat wake up dodge is in pain I don't know what's causing it!!" Heather screeched that woke nat up while they were trying to get dodge up he leaned over and threw up on the floor heather and nat jumped back one from extreme shock but also because they were frightened, when they looked back at Dodge they saw that there was a little bit of blood, " we gotta get him to a hospital heather call bishop and tell him to get here asap!!" Nat yelled while trying to calm down a panicking Dodge. She was surprised at how hot he felt she also knew he was playing panic because he wanted help for his sister and was scared if he missed a challenge he would be disqualified . "Shhh your ok dodge, we're getting you help." Nat tried to sooth but it wasn't working in his fever hase he could hear Nat talking to him but he was hallucinating from the pain and the fever, he knew he was crying but he didn't care he was in pain and just wanted it to be over. Once again he leaned over and threw up some more it hurts so much no one would understand " he's here Nat we gotta move fast if it's what I think it is!!" Heather screamed, and that's all dodge heard before passing out. "Heather he passed out!!.Dodge come one wake up please." Nat yelled making bishop almost crash the car she was trying to wake him up but it was not working at all.

***** time skip *****

When dodge woke up he could only feel a dull throbbing that has once felt like he was being stabbed, when he looked over he saw Nat, heather, and bishop all sleeping on the chairs that were in his room. Once they started to wake up they noticed he was awake and were so great full! "Dodge your ok!!" Nat cried and gently hugged him " "yeah why wouldn't I be?" He asked "never do that again dumbass ." Heather joined in. A few moments later that heard a knock on the door and showd his mom and sister in the doorway, " mom? Dayna? What are y'all doing here?" He asked " well when you hear your brother is in the hospital cause his appendix ruptured and worries your to death that's why we're here." Dayan said lightly punching him in the shoulder " why didn't you tell anyone that you felt sick honey?" His mom asked " because I'm doing something that I need to keep doing and if I stop then I can't get Dayna any help." Dodge answered.

A few days after he was aloud to go home and rest and not do anything like he'd pulled the days before, he had also learned he was sill in panic and not disqualified because it was a heath emergency.

Hope you guys enjoyed this!!! I'll try to update soon!!

Happy reading!!

-Nico