#this is nearly 1500 words

[thatcoyperson]

Ok hear me out

AU where BDubs and Scar overthrow King Ren

[jmrothwell]

"hold my hand" "absolutely not" "they'll think somethings wrong if you don't" *grabs hand and kisses cheek* / sweet tarts

“Do you need a job?” 

Reggie startled ever so slightly, trying his best to hide it by sitting up from the lounging position he was in while reading his book. Once up he found an aggravated Carrie standing in the doorway of the studio. 

“Are you talking to me?” He asked, looking around knowing full well he was the only one here. Everyone else had gotten pulled into various family holiday events. Even Luke and his mom had managed to reach a sort of compromise for the season. 

“Is there anyone else here?” She said again before releasing a long exhale disguised as a groan, “Anyway, did you need a job or not?”

“A job” He couldn’t help repeating the question, one of his eyebrows rising against his better judgment. 

“Ok, so it’s barely a job.” She said weight shifting as she adjusted her feet with her eye roll. Her gaze shifted away from him, examining the room around them, eyes lingering on the many photos Flynn and Julie had plastered across the wall. “I really just need someone to come with me when I go to my mom’s for Christmas.”

“I’m sorry what?” He really didn’t mean to blurt out the question as fast as he did. Still blinking away the shock of the words he was hearing. Couldn’t recall her ever mentioning her mom before, or anyone for that matter. Though if he had to judge based on the way Carrie’s face scrunched up and how she shifted her feet again she wasn’t very comfortable with the topic. 

“My mom’s been trying to reconnect and make up for lost time.” She said, voice bordering on her peppy show tone. 

“I don’t know.”

“It would be just for a week and she lives incredibly close to some decent skiing. So you could think of it more like a little winter vacation if you’d like.” Carrie said, her voice never straying far from that peppy ‘sales pitch’ tone which did not ease any unease he had at the idea. 

“What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch.” She quickly said, disbelief written all over her face in the short seconds before managing to school her expression again. “Look, me and my family are even paying for everything. All you have to do is show up.”

He chewed over the idea, also chewing the inside of his bottom lip not really buying this perfect vacation she was trying to sell him on. There definitely had to be something she wasn’t telling him. Why him? Why not any of her other friends? 

On the other hand, it would be nice to have something to keep him out of his parents house that wouldn’t also have all his friends playing their usual ‘let’s help Reggie without him knowing it’ tactics. It might take them all a while to believe Carrie had randomly offered him what basically amounted to an all expenses paid ski trip out of nowhere. But weirder things had happened. 

“All right, when’s this trip?” He asked, trying not to be floored by Carrie’s unexpectedly bright, if short lived, smile. 

“We leave tomorrow.” She said digging her phone out of her purse and settling on the couch so close to him she‘d barely need to move to be in his lap. “Quick, give me your number so I can send you the details.”

“Oh yeah, sure.” He said fumbling for his phone, caught a little off guard by both her sudden proximity and the amount of shit he suddenly had to do before tomorrow. 

He barely registered everything she said about texting her his address to coordinate with her driver. Far too focused on mentally making his packing list, hoping he had enough clean clothes. Didn’t even question her when she suddenly pulled him in for a series of selfies, the first half dozen inadequate because he didn’t look happy enough. He doubted he ever looked happy enough, certain she just gave up, and resorted to using whatever filter for whatever app she was sure to be posting it to.

The next day didn’t fare much better for his nerves. Pleasantly surprised when she did in fact show up at his place several hours before the sun would even dare to be up so they could get to the airport on time. Too tired to enjoy the fact he got to sit in the slightly roomier business class, falling asleep before the even finished taking off. It was a rare direct flight too, so he wouldn’t get another chance until the flight home. 

Just as they passed security and into the throng of all the friends and family waiting, Carrie’s hand gripped his bicep tight pulling his attention to her as they walked. 

“Ok so, before we get too far there is something you need to know.” She said in a sort of half whisper, trying to not be overheard but still trying to be heard over the noise all around them. “I may have lied about there not being a catch.”

His heart clenched, he knew it was too good to be true, but more than that he felt more than a little betrayed. Did she seriously wait til he couldn’t escape to tell him what basically amounted to his side of the deal? He didn’t get the chance to call her out though, as soon a woman Reggie could describe as overly sparkly was rushing toward them with a big smile. 

“Carrie?” The woman said, throwing her arms around Carrie who had never looked so tense before.

“Aunt Debbie.” Carrie said through a forced grin, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“What nonsense.” Aunt Debbie said as she playfully slapped Carrie’s shoulder. “Of course we were going to pick you up, Richard’s keeping the car warm. Your mom would have come but she’s a little preoccupied.”

Aunt Debbie tried to do a little hand wave through the air, her vibrant nails looking more like talons than Reggie expected them to, clearly trying to dismiss or wave something away. The movement only seemed to make Carrie tense up more than she already was. Reggie didn’t get long to focus on that though as Aunt Debbie’s attention fell on him.

“Oh sorry, you must be..?”

“Oh, right, sorry. Aunt Debbie, this is Reggie.” Carrie said as Reggie extended his hand out to shake Debbie’s, all of the syllables he was going to use to greet her with however froze up in his throat as Carrie continued on. “My boyfriend I was telling you all about.”

“Ooooh well aren’t you handsome.” Debbie said, patting his, the sensation all he needed to know he wasn’t dreaming. “Well, we better hurry up before Rich gets too bored and does something foolish. Did you check anything?”

Debbie walked off after Carrie’s reassurances they only had carry-on’s. Reggie did not follow, forcing Carrie to double back for him, if she felt any guilt over the situation she had it hidden well under all the resigned exhaustion she wore.

“Your boyfriend?” 

“It’s only for the week.” 

“Carrie we’ve barely ever spoken to each other.” He said in lieu of saying how they could barely be called friends. 

“Please,” she said, surprising them both, though she recovered faster than he did. “Like I said it’s only for the week. We don’t even have to get all lovey-dovey with the pet names or overt PDA.”

“But why do they need to think I”m your boyfriend?”

Carrie quickly looked over her shoulder to where Aunt Debbie was impatiently looking like she was waiting patiently.  “I promise I’ll tell you later.”

He sighed, slowly resigning himself to the idea. His only other real options being telling everyone the truth and spending the next week uncomfortably awkward around strangers or trying to find some way to pay for a flight back home and leaving Carrie alone, by herself. “You owe me.”

She nodded as she painted on that winning showmanship smile of hers, “Of course, now hold my hand.”

“Absolutely not.” The words were out of his mouth faster than he intended, still too caught up in his own blindsided irritation. Her smile barely faltered, the slightest furrow of her brow.

“They’ll think somethings wrong if you don’t.”

He glanced toward Debbie who had definitely stopped trying to not look confused. He didn’t exactly trust his mouth at the moment, so he merely held out his hand towards Carrie. She grasped it in hers and pulled him down so she could quickly press a quick kiss to his cheek and whispering a quick “thank you” into his ear. 

He swallowed hard, an attempt to both unclog his throat of all the wrong words and to clear his head of the memory of her lips ghosting across the shell of his ear. This was going to be a more complicated week than if he had just stayed home.

[paigemathews]

ooh I would like to contribute to the pairing ask

And I'm going to give you a bunch to choose from because I can't decide and also that way you get to do the ones that you find the most fun without trying to do the ones you don't have ideas for (pick whichever you like and feel no pressure to do them all):

wyatt and the manticore baby (this can be gen or romantic, whichever you prefer)

chris and bianca in the past

piper with her niece/nephew (gen, dealers choice for which child)

patty and paige (gen)

victor and henry sr bonding as mortals in a magical family

elise with one of the charmed ones offspring as honorary aunt

more of the baby morrises all grown up however you would prefer

piper re-meeting bianca in the future (gen)

phoebe and andy (gen), preferably with time travel involved, bc we get told andy cares a lot about all the sisters and vice versa but we don't really get to see that as much with phoebe

a charmed one with their ex bf in an unexpected situation (gen, again dealers choice of who)

time travelling wyatt and chris (gen)

and prue and paige (gen) either in a world where its a different sister that dies or after they've both died and they're looking at the mess and drama of future generations and Judging

I went ahead and added this to the initial post bc I did not originally, but I think that one pairing per an ask will probably be easier bc if I do all of these, it will end up being so long that someone will murder me for ending up on their dash. That said, I am begging you on my knees to resubmit the others because I want to do literally all of them please please please

Pairing: Wyatt Halliwell ? Sebastian Johnston (half-manticore baby)

-----

Trudging through the empty cavern, Wyatt kept glancing over to Sebastian uncertainly. His expression was uncharacteristically steely, normal jovial mood absent. Prior to their run-in with the demon, Wyatt had been the same way, intent on finding his siblings and cousins. He still was focused on finding them, but felt his attention split as they walked between worry for them and replaying the demon's words.

"Poor demon," she cooed, dodging the potion Wyatt threw. Darting into Sebastian's face, she smiled maliciously as she said, "Blonde of hair, fair of face, never will-"

She slammed into the wall as Wyatt snarled wordlessly, trying to get to Sebastian's side as the half-manticore shook off the daze that her spell had left them with. Sebastian opened his mouth, eyes narrowed, but the demon beat them to it.

Throwing her head back to let her hair fall back, she grinned as she threw out both hands. Half a second too late, Wyatt was caught in the blast as she telekinetically threw everything in her past. He lost sight of Sebastian as the demon's workstation flipped and-

Oh, wow, the Underworld really had tall caverns actually. Wheezing for breath for a minute, Wyatt heard the demon start her little rhyme over again absently as he tried to convince his lungs to take in a breath. That was good, because she wouldn't recite her weird... prophecy? spell? whatever over a corpse. Probably. You never could tell with demons.

Also there was no way that Sebastian, who came right behind Chris and Penny as the most likely Warren kid to fight demons by themselves - despite not even being, y'know, a Warren - was killed by one telekinetic blast. Chris did worse, and didn't that thought send a pang of worry about his younger brother through his chest.

Or, actually, that might be that one of the potions on the demon's workspace was apparently acidic in nature, and Wyatt's hand was burning a little now. Fuck.

Bracing himself, Wyatt sucked in a breath and pushed the table back and sat up. The demon was on top of Sebastian, one hand cupping his face as she finished her rhyme, "-of the Charmed One's embrace. Unrequited love is such a pain, little demon, let me spare you of it."

"Get away from hIM," Wyatt roared, throwing hands out, magic distorting his voice in the last minute. At his shout, both Sebastian and the demon's heads snapped over to look at him. Sebastian's eyes went wide, and he bucked his hips enough to startle the demon. Just as the energy blast was about to engulf them, Sebastian shimmered away, unfortunately taking the demon with him. The blast slammed into the wall, destroying the entire shelf of potions lining it.

Wyatt felt more than heard Sebastian reappear, spinning on his heel just as Sebastian came into view. Sending the demon sprawling onto the ground, Sebastian rolled to one side, scrambling onto his feet as the demon rose with a screech.

"Wyatt!" Sebastian pointed at the remains of the demon's knife collection scattered on the ground opposite of them, and Wyatt didn't hesitate. As the demon raised her arms, Wyatt threw out his arm and the demon's destroyed armory went flying at her.

"Well, that seems like karma," Sebastian commented, breathless, as the two watched the demon burst into flames. Seeing as the entire debacle started when the demon sent her own armory at them, Wyatt couldn't help but agree.

Blonde of hair. Fair of face. Something about a Charmed One. Unrequited love. Years of looks between family members and gently teasing comments that Wyatt never quite got.

Sebastian had been one of Wyatt's best friends since he was a baby. Whenever Sebastian spent time with someone, they were almost always guaranteed a fun time that they needed. Beyond just genuine joy, Sebastian would always have his friends' backs. He was Chris and Penny's most consistent backup in a demon fight. He was the person that Melinda would call when she wanted a friend to party with or play video games against. He was the person that would go after Parker when she got a too desperate need to prove herself as a witch. Even if they hadn't been friends themselves, Sebastian's love and care for Wyatt's family would have more then earned Wyatt's love. Despite his heritage, Sebastian was a compassionate person who loved deeply, and he was one of Wyatt's best friends.

But as the pit continued forming in his stomach, Wyatt knew that he didn't love him as more than a friend.

There was no guarantee that the demon had been telling the truth. But Sebastian's expression had been painfully exposed.

Demons were cruel, and it would be so characteristic of a demon to throw that in Sebastian's face right in front of the person he loved.

The thought kept taunting Wyatt, and he knew he needed to resolve it somehow. They were still tracking his siblings and cousins, and whoever managed to subdue multiple Warrens was sure to be dangerous. Being distracted was dangerous, but Wyatt couldn't bring it up to Sebastian and risk hurting him right-

"Dude," Sebastian said, and Wyatt stopped his anxious tirade of thoughts as Sebastian snapped in front of his face.

Blinking, Wyatt looked between the fingers in front of his eyes to Sebastian's face. He was still tired, still worried, but there was a familiar look of bemusement in his eyes as he looked at Wyatt. One hand was on his bicep, a light grip keeping him still, as he dropped his other hand.

"You back with me?" Sebastian asked.

Wyatt nodded mutely.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You spaced out for like. Five whole minutes. None of those demon's potions did anything to you, right?"

Wyatt shook his head. Sebastian opened his mouth to say something else, but Wyatt blurted out, "Blonde of hair, fair of face."

Sebastian's mouth snapped shut, as his gaze became unreadable. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence as Wyatt struggled to find words, Sebastian tilted his head and asked, "And? Is there a problem with that?"

His voice was guarded, but not hostile. Wyatt nearly tripped over his words as he frantically shook his head. "No! Just I don't know if-"

Sebastian's shoulders dropped an inch as his eyes softened. "Wyatt, I'm an adult. I don't need-"

"I'm sorry," Wyatt interrupted, guilt heavy in his stomach. He knew, logically at least, that he wasn't obligated to return feelings, but Wyatt never enjoyed hurting people, and to hurt one of his best friends was excruciating. "If I could, I would."

Wyatt winced at his words, because it wasn't as if Sebastian was unlovable, just that Wyatt didn't-

"No," Sebastian nearly snarled. Wyatt started, and Sebastian nearly looked as startled as Wyatt did. Still, he continued, "I don't need more than friendship, Wyatt. That's enough for me. As long as-"

You're happy, Wyatt mentally finished. Or you find someone. Some kind response that highlighted why Sebastian was great and why Wyatt felt awful.

"-she's happy and safe, I'll be okay."

Wait, what?

"But we need to get going to find them, because the longer we wait-" Sebastian was still talking as he turned to continue, but Wyatt was still stuck on the "she" part.

Had the demon actually... specified Wyatt? Thinking back, there was no actual guarantee that it had been Wyatt the demon was talking about. Blonde of hair, fair of face, and something about a Charmed One? Yes, that was Wyatt. It was also Melinda and Peyton. And sometimes Penny, but seeing as she was a lesbian and Sebastian knew that, Wyatt thought it safe to assume that Sebastian would have had plenty of time to get over it if it had been Penny.

Oh, boy.

Face burning, Wyatt interrupted, "She?"

Sebastian turned back around, voice fading as he took in whatever expression Wyatt had. They were both silent for a minute before Sebastian's lips quirked up. He couldn't control the grin as he asked, laughter in his voice, "Wyatt, did you think-"

"Blonde of hair, fair of face!" Wyatt protested immediately, feeling just a little stupid.

Sebastian outright began laughing as he finished, "Never will feel the daughter of a Charmed One embrace. Unless you have something to tell me, which I completely support-"

Wyatt pushed past Sebastian as he kept laughing, face burning but heart lighter than it was.

As he continued on his path, Wyatt heard Sebastian fall in step just behind him, still laughing. They still had demons to vanquish and family to save, but at least he wasn't responsible for breaking one of his best friend's heart.

Wait. Did that mean Sebastian liked his sister?

[allatariel]

The buzz of the win was starting to wear off and Chrissy anxiously hurried to where Eddie had told her to meet him after the game. He was facing away from her leaning against the passenger side of his van, his head tipped back and humming to himself.

“Hey,” she saw him stumble a little as he turned at her greeting, recovering smoothly and hanging off the handle of the passenger door while swinging out and around to face her.

“Hi,” he grinned, “uh, how was the game?”

“We won. Lucas Sinclair made an impressive three-pointer right at the buzzer.”

“I don’t know exactly what that means, but it does sound pretty spectacular.” She laughed and he grinned again, wider this time.

“His sister rolled a crit hit at the eleventh hour and saved the day, so, uh, my game went pretty well, too.”

She opened her mouth to ask what that meant, but a rustling noise startled her and she whipped around.

“So, uh… you still want that K? I can just take you home if you're not sure.”

She turned back to him. “No, I’m sure,” she pressed her lips together determinedly.

“OK,” he replied a little warily before opening the passenger door for her. “Your chariot awaits,” he invited, bowing her in.

He waited for her to get settled and then shut the door and went around to the driver’s side to join her.

The engine rumbled and the radio roared to life. Heavy music filled the van, surrounding her like a wall, a powerful voice soared over it: 'Cause it's free and I see that it's me / Who's lost and never found / I cry out for magic, I feel it dancing in the light

“Sorry, let me turn it down,” he reached for the knob and she reached out to stop him.

It was cold, I lost my hold / To the shadows of the night

“No, it’s cool.” Something about the music fortified her and she found the intense voice oddly reassuring. It made her feel a bit less like she was losing her mind.

No sign of the morning coming / You've been left on your own / Like a rainbow in the dark / A rainbow in the dark

“Hell yeah it is!” He pulled his hand back and held it up briefly, palm facing her, with the index and pinky fingers extended and the middle and ring fingers folded in under his curled thumb.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go? / When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside / Is it someone that you know

“You really like it?” He curled his fingers in and brought his hand to his mouth, nervously chewing on his thumb nail.

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

Chrissy felt her face heat up a little and she looked down as she smiled. “Well, it’s kinda catchy.”

We're a lie, you and I / We're words without a rhyme

“Catchy is not a word I think has ever been used to describe Dio, but it’s definitely cool.” Eddie reached behind the wheel for the shifter and threw the old van into gear.

There's no sign of the morning coming / You've been left on your own / Like a rainbow in the dark / Just a rainbow in the dark, yeah

Chrissy watched him drive, tapping on the steering wheel and mouthing along to the words, letting himself get more into the music as they moved out of the parking lot and the guitar swelled into a solo.

[sweetxsymphony]

Backstory: A world without music.

This is going to be long so it's going under a read more! Like, seriously, this is fucking the most text I've written in a post on this site in my life. This shit's a damn super essay in one go and will be basically spoiling the anime Takt Op. Destiny but I wanna make sure people understand the concept and stuff, y'know? anyway, if you read all of this? well, shit, that's impressive and thank you! this took me nearly an hour and a half to write up. Anyway, consider this important reading.

Many years ago, black meteorites fell from space and crash landed on Earth carrying with them something deadly, something hell bent on destruction. These beings were named "Despair Dolls", or "D2s", due to the fact that wherever they appeared only death and despair followed in their wake.

There was one oddity about these beings and it was their absolute hatred towards music of any kind. No one knows for sure why they seem to have such a passionate hatred for it but it's such an intense hatred that any form of music can attract a D2 like a moth to a flame and they will stop at nothing to eradicate the source of the music and anything else close by.

This has led to a global wide ban of all forms of music. No one can play music in any form as it will just attract a wave of death.

For the longest time humanity seemed to be slowly losing more and more ground to these monsters until one day the Symphonica International Organization was established. An organization that has dedicated itself to protecting the human race and fighting back against the D2's with the goal of wiping them out for good and restoring peace to the world and allowing music to once again be played and enjoyed by all.

Many people were sceptical on just how this organization was supposed to achieve this as all conventional weaponry was completely ineffective against D2s but the Symphonica had an ace up their sleeves.

Musicarts

No one knows how these beings came into existence, how they attained their powers or how these powers were even created in the first place. For, you see, Musicarts are individuals who have harnessed the very essence of the worlds most classical music and turned it into a weapon which can kill a D2.

These individuals, seemingly exclusively women, are able to transform into a new form that allows them to harness the score they have bonded with and use it to fight back. They do not age, can heal extremely quickly, and are super-human in nature now. The drawback is that once one becomes a Musicart they lose all memories of their prior life before becoming one and are only at their strongest once they have formed a contract with a Symphonica Maestro.

The only thing people know about Musicarts is that they recieve their power and score from a Harmonia Crystal. Once this crystal has awakened it turns into an pendant in the shape of an F-hole (a sound hole on various musical instruments which comes in diffirent sizes and forms.) This then becomes the source of a Musicarts power and should it be destroyed the Musicart would die.

There are only two ways in which a Musicart can die and that is if either they sustain mortal or enough wounds to kill them or their pendants are destroyed. The wounds needed to bring one down need to be incredibly severe and fatal as they can heal from near fatal wounds in a matter of hours.

Maestro's bring the Musicarts incredible power to even greater heights, especially when they have made a contract with a Musicart to become their official Maestro. The Symphonica has been slowly fighting back against the D2s with these rare and mysterious Musicarts putting both races in a deep war.

The Schneider family fled their home in France and made their way to America which housed one of the Symphonica's most renowned head quarters due to it being ran by one of the most successful conductors and becoming a general bastion for the rest of the organization and who they turned to for help and advice.

Once in America the Schneider's met the Asahina family where Cosette and her older sister Anna became good friends with Takt Asahina an aspiring pianist who was forced to stop chasing his dream due to the nature of the current world.

For a while things were, relatively, peaceful but that was until a concert performed by Takt's Father in what most thought was a soundproof concert hall was interrupted when a D2 attacked hearing the music despite the soundproofing efforts which resulted in his Father's death. This put Takt into a deep depression and he became a shut in but thankfully Cosette and her older sister Anna helped keep an eye on him whilst their eldest sister, Charlotte, began to work for the New York Symphonica branch.

For a while, Cosette tried to rouse Takt from his depression with little to no success until she managed to convince him to play his music he had wrote with her at the upcoming Symphonica festival, a festival held once a year by the Symphonica to allow people to play music. It is heavily policed by various Musicarts and is usually a success but things don't always go to plan.

Once Cosette and Takt had finished their piano duet together a D2 managed to break through the Symphonica's line and attacked. In the resulting Chaos many lost their lives, including Cosette. As she lay dying in her friends arms the pendant around her neck began to react and glow.

As it turns out, this pendant was actually a Harmonia Crystal and contained the very essence of Destiny who harnessed the musical score of Beethoven's Symphony No 5 in C minor Op 67.

This resulted in Cosette becoming the Musicart "Destiny." and like most other Musicarts her memories as her time as Cosette were lost but due to the nature of her creation she was different than most other Musicarts. Despite her ladylike appearance, her facial expressions rarely change and her tone of voice is always calm and polite and almost robotic at times. At first glance, she looks pretty, but she has an unconventional personality, with a sharp tongue and a sweet tooth which are remnants of her former personality.

Upon her awakening the two agreed to form a contract together and would then set out for the New York Symphonica. However, due to the nature of her creation, how she was born from a person who was dying when normally they are born from healthy people, there is something wrong about her power compared to most Musicarts.

Takt and Destiny's relationship as a Conductor and Musicart is symbiotic -- Takt becomes a little more superhuman and Destiny, who is attuned to the D2s, defeats the monsters. The downside is is that Destiny has to use some of Takt's life force to fight, which corrodes his body.

Essentially, she is killing him slowly.

They hope that when they make it to the Headquarters something can be done to help stabilise Destiny and Takt's condition so he can use her without risk of death.

However, as they travel and fight D2s his condition begins to worsen more and more and things do not help matters when it turns out the Symphonica may be hiding secrets that might not paint them as the saviours they seemed to be. A certain Musicart, Hell, seemingly has the ability to attract D2s and things become heated quickly when some Musicarts turn rogue pushing Takt and Destiny further which only leads to Takt's impending doom.

Once the dust settled, in order to save Takt, Destiny sacrifices herself in order to save him and restore his strength resulting in her "death" and leaving behind her pendant which eventually went to her sister who became the new Destiny.

Here's where we get divergent.

First of all, thank you for reading through that absolute slog (ya boi had to summarise a whole show that existed to hype up a mobile gacha game lmao)

Anyway, after the finale of the show Cosette and her version of Destiny are gone, kind of? it's weird. But, all that happened at the end of the show as that Cosette just disappeared. So, with that in mind, and in order to make interactions with other muses from different shows more easily possible without needing to craft verses, I'm making it so that moment wasn't her dying.

No, it's just a sort of displacement, an isekai basically lmao, the music and score is not done with this particular version of Destiny but her world does not need, nor can it have, two of them so she is shipped off to wherever your muses are from probably lol! She does get to keep her powers but they are more refined and making her more of a normal Musicart in a way and toning her power down a little.

It's dumb but it's something that makes things easier for me to keep her going post anime and have her deal with all of that whilst adjusting to new stuff.

[roosterforme]

You Want Me Anyway | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley wasn't your boyfriend. He didn't owe you anything. But after months of hooking up, you expected more from him than what you were getting. It was time for you to move on. But Bradley has other ideas.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 1500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for Sensational Smutfest! Check out my masterlist for more!

You and Bradley were by no means official. But you had been hoping you were at least exclusive. For months you had been trying to have the conversation with him, trying to define the relationship, but he just brushed you off. 

And now you knew why. Because tonight at the bar while you were surrounded by your friends, you were forced to watch Bradley flirt with some girl in a mini skirt who boldly bought him a beer and had her hand planted on his chest. He was eating it up, leaving you to silently stew in your anger, because nobody even knew he spent most nights tangled up in bed with you. This girl was laughing hysterically at everything he was saying, and you'd simply had enough. 

It was time you forgot about Rooster Bradshaw. You didn't need to keep letting him string you along with his vague answers and half truths. There was no way you'd let him think you needed his attention exclusively if he was going to spread his around. 

Recently you found that Hangman was good for a few things: the occasional laugh, keeping you on your toes in the air, and tons of flirtation. 

"Hey, Hangman. Teach me how to play darts," you called out to him, and a second later he was guiding you toward the dartboard with his arm draped across your shoulders.

"I thought you'd never ask, Sweetness," he drawled, his lips close to your ear. "You're about to learn from the best."

You couldn't help but laugh at how cocky he was. "Is that so?"

"You thought I was only good in the air? I'm good everywhere. Here, stand like this," he told you, guiding you into place with his hands on your hips. Soon you were throwing darts with his help, nearly hitting the bullseye a few times. "You're a natural," he whispered, letting his hand glide up to rest on your shoulder. "You want a drink?"

"Please," you told him, and when he went to the bar, your eyes caught on Bradley. His cheeks were beet red, and he looked fuming mad.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked when he approached. His voice was low and harsh as he got in your personal space.

You shrugged. "Just hanging out with Jake."

Bradley scoffed. "Okay, well Jake can just keep his hands off you!"

"Why should he?" you asked, keeping your expression completely neutral. 

Bradley's eyes narrowed to slits. "Because you're with me."

You laughed in his face. "Really? I had no idea. You seem to like flirting with other girls more than talking about-" His mouth met yours in a rough kiss. Right in the middle of the Hard Deck. 

"No, you're with me," he growled again, gripping the back of your neck and kissing your lips and your jaw and your ear. "Say good night to Jake. I'm taking you home."

But you didn't say good night to anyone. You just tripped along next to Bradley as he guided you toward the exit. "What's gotten into you?" you asked him once you were outside. 

But he didn't answer you. In fact, he didn't say anything as he picked you up and carried you to his Bronco and drove to his house while you complained the whole way. "This is ridiculous. You can't just suddenly decide that you're in charge of what I do!" 

But you were just met with more silence.

"Bradley," you finally said, caving and talking first once you were in his bedroom. 

He took your chin between his thumb and index finger, tipping your face up to look at him. He kissed your lips softly, brushing his mustache across your skin. "You're mine. Don't flirt with Jake. Don't flirt with anyone. You're with me."

You moaned at his words. "And just what do you think you were doing tonight, Bradley? You don't get to have a different set of rules for yourself."

He kissed you again. "I won't. Not again. Now get in bed, and spread your legs wide."

You watched his brown eyes flash with something exciting as you peeled your clothes off and climbed in his bed. But you quickly learned that what he had in mind wasn't going to be as pleasant as you originally thought. 

At first, his mouth on your pussy felt amazing. His tongue felt possessive, like he was claiming you. But then when you were so close to the edge, he stopped cold and eased away from your body.

"What happened?" you gasped, panting as a sheen of sweat crept along your neck and chest.

"Say my name." His voice was harsh, and you clenched around nothing.

"B-Bradley."

"Louder."

"Bradley! Please, Bradley!"

Then his fingers were inside you and his lips were on your breasts, and you ran your hands up and down his neck. He was being possessive, and you loved it. This is what your body was craving from him. But just when you were close again, he released you. 

"Fuck!" you gasped.

"Say it."

You swallowed hard, head tipped back in frustration as tears filled your eyes. "I'm yours, Bradley!"

Then he was filling you with his dick, and you felt perfect for a few moments as he pinned your hips down and moved so slowly. You could feel everything, each tiny thrust and every twitch of his cock. But he was making sure you knew he was in control, because he never went faster. He worked you up until you were a panting, gasping mess beneath him. Every vein in his neck was on display, and you wanted to cum so badly. Your legs were shaking, back arching off the bed as he stroked your sweet spot with expertise. 

 But as he brought you to the edge again, he seemed to reluctantly pull out. Then he growled, "Don't even think about cumming yet," next to your ear, and you cried out in frustration as he rubbed his tip across your clit. You watched him straddle your thighs as he smirked down at you, and he grabbed his cock while you gasped for air.

You watched him jerk off as you bit your knuckle in frustration, thrusting yourself up against him to try to get some more friction against your clit. Within a minute, Bradley was coating your pussy, belly and chest with his cum. Marking you. Then he dipped his fingers in the mess and held it up to your lips. He fed you his cum while you whined and begged him. "Please?" you gasped, after cleaning his fingers for the fourth time and rubbing yourself against his balls.

He pressed his lips to your ear as he dipped his sticky fingers in your mouth one more time. "You think Jake can take care of you like I can? You think anyone else can?"

You shook your head and mumbled, "No," around his fingers. 

"That's right. Now who's about to make you cum?"

"Bradley!"

Finally he removed his fingers from your mouth and eased them through his cum and down to your pussy. He fucked you with his fingers and teased you with his tongue until you were hiccuping with relief as your orgasm quickly washed over you. 

"That's my good girl," he crooned, running his mustache through your wetness and pressing his nose to your clit while your body shook for him. "So good. Don't forget who you're with now." He kept stimulating you until you had some tears falling from your eyes, but his lips were so gentle now as he worshipped your pussy.

You started to sit up as you whispered his name, and Bradley's eyes were on yours. He kissed you, and you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips and mustache. He eased you back again, the mess of his drying cum rubbing between your bodies as you held him close.

"What made you change your mind all of a sudden?" you asked as his lips migrated to your jaw. 

"I didn't change my mind all of a sudden. I've wanted to be exclusive for weeks, and start calling you my girlfriend."

Your eyes drifted closed at the word girlfriend uttered in his raspy voice. "Then why were you flirting with that girl? And avoiding my conversations?" you asked, taking his face between your hands.

He looked at you with his big, brown eyes and smiled. "Because I know you're too good for me, but I want you anyway."

You bit your lip and smiled at the ceiling. "I'm way too good for you."

"But you want me anyway," he supplied, making you giggle as he kissed your ear. Then he scooped you up and headed for the bathroom while he asked you to start referring to him as your boyfriend. "I made a mess, and I'll clean it up."  

You weren't sure if he was talking about coating you in his cum or talking about your relationship, but either way, he was going to take care of it.

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

Thanks for reading this blurb that turned into a one-shot.

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[milfsloverblog]

How Eve Felt (NSFW)

Jane Murdstone x Fem!reader

A/N: Listen, this is just pure filth. 1500 words of porn without plot. Nothing but Jane Murdstone smut. I started this WIP months ago and thought I’d never publish it but a few of you liked the snippet I shared, so... Anyway, enjoy <3

tw: spit kink, mention of Christianity related stuff (this is how I deal with my religious trauma)

✨ AO3 LINK IN TITLE ✨

You always tried your best to keep your eyes away from your lady’s flesh when you undressed her. That night had been no different as you only looked at your fingers working on the lacing of her corset.

Jane stayed quiet for a while, her eyes never leaving your reflection in the mirror as you worked behind her.

“You did say this was your first time working as a lady’s maid, didn’t you?” She asked, her voice as stern as it usually was.

“Yes, Miss Murdstone.” You nodded and carefully peeled the corset from her, folding it before placing it by her dress on the chair.

“In that case,” She said as she turned around to face you, cocking her head a little. “I cannot help but wonder where on earth you have learnt how to undress a woman so swiftly.”

You swallowed thickly. Your eyes had caught sight of the swell of her small breasts under her chemise and it instantly made your throat go dry.

What were you supposed to tell her? Oh, well, I have undressed my fair share of women, right before laying with them.

“Well?” She insisted. “Cat got your tongue?!”

You knew then by the smirk on her face that Miss Murdstone probably had a good idea of how you’d become an expert at undressing the fairer sex.

“I suppose I'm a quick learner, my lady.” You simply answered, hoping it would satisfy the tall woman’s curiosity.

Jane narrowed her eyes, silently looking at you for a moment while the gears turned in her head.

“Take my chemise off.” She eventually ordered in a bark.

It felt like she was testing you. Sure, this was part of what a lady’s maid had to do but the way she said it, it did feel like she was testing you.

You ended up doing as you were told, silently thanking your hands for not shaking too much when you grabbed the hem of her chemise and pulled the garment over her head.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Do not look.

“Look at me.” Jane demanded, your eyes immediately snapping from your hands to her face.

“I am looking at you, Miss Murdstone.”

“Look at me the way you really wish to.” She smirked again and you were sure your thumping heartbeat could be heard throughout the whole household.

You exhaled shakily and eventually moved your gaze from her eyes to her nose, then down to her mouth. What would it be like to kiss her? To lick over the scar on her lip? To have her tongue push into your mouth?

You spent a few seconds on the length of her neck, watching her pulse point steadily move up and down. From the look of it, she didn’t seem nervous about what was happening, at least not as much as you were.

Her shoulders were next, pulling a smile from your lips. It was a funny thing, really, for a cold and metallic woman like Jane to have such an inviting freckled skin.

Your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes landed on her chest, her nipples visibly hardening as you took in her pert breasts.

“Miss Murdstone, we should not-“ You were cut off by Jane’s hand roughly grabbing hold of your face, her fingertips digging almost painfully into your cheeks.

“And who decides on what we should or should not do, hm?” She asked, using a honey-dripping voice as if she wasn’t holding you with a vice-like grip.

“You, Miss Murdstone.” You whispered barely audibly, nearly letting a whine out when she let go of your jaw.

“Good.” She gave a slight nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened when you noticed that she was slowly spreading her legs. Her lips pulled in a devilish smirk seeing how your face twitched as you tried your best to keep your eyes locked on hers, knowing full well the sight that would be waiting for you if you allowed yourself to look down at her crotchless bloomers.

Jane had to admit that she was impressed by your self-restraint, many girls would have run for the door while some, fewer, would have touched her already.

“Kneel.” She barked, delighting in the way you slightly jumped at the unexpected order.

Your legs wobbled and you fell to your knees like a devotee praying at the altar. Your gaze inevitably fell on the wet pink flesh between her legs, your mouth watering at how inviting it looked.

“Well, do come closer!” Jane spoke as if she was in a hurry and for a split second you wondered if she was eager to feel you on her.

You did as you were told, crawling closer until you were kneeling between her legs and tentatively placed your hands on her covered knees. Jane raised an eyebrow at the boldness of your move but decided she would allow it.

“I assume you have done this before, haven’t you?” The woman asked, her chin never lowering as she looked down at you, making her appear even more condescending.

“Have I ever found myself between a woman’s legs? Yes. Have I ever knelt before one? No.” But I don’t mind kneeling for you. I don’t mind praying at your altar. I would spend the rest of my life on my knees if you asked me to. I do want to worship you.

“Let us make it a memorable first time, shall we?” Jane purred and her fingers took hold of your face again, gentler than they did before.

She tilted your head back as far as it would go and pried your jaws open, chuckling when you stuck your tongue out instinctively.

“Aren’t you a well-trained slut?” Jane cooed, gathering the saliva in her mouth and slowly letting it fall on your tongue, a wave of arousal coating her sex when your pupils dilated.

The older woman raised an eyebrow and, knowing exactly what was expected of you, you closed your eyes and swallowed. You couldn’t help but be reminded of your first Holy Communion when, kneeling before the priest, the sacred host had been placed on your tongue.

You almost let an Amen slip from your lips when Jane suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and your eyes snapped back open.

“How many women have you laid with?”

“Plenty.” You admitted in a whisper, wondering how many Jane had shared her bed with.

“Prove it.” She smirked, bringing your face closer to her cunt.

You didn’t waste any more time and dipped your thumbs into the warmth between Jane’s legs, brushing the tip of one thumb over her clit to watch the way her whole body responded. Jane jerked, hips canting forward, and you hid your grin by placing a soft kiss on the milky skin of her inner thigh. The woman’s breath hitched and you wondered if it was caused by her not expecting any softness from you (or anyone else).

Keeping your fingers holding Jane open, you leaned in closer, blowing lightly over her cunt before burying your face in it. You wrapped your lips around the woman’s clit and sucked sharply, Jane’s body jolting above you as a moan tore itself from the back of her throat.

The woman opened her mouth to speak but cut herself off as you sucked harder, drawing tight circles around her clit. Moving one hand from where you had it braced around Jane’s thigh, you pushed your thumb into her entrance, tugging at her opening and massaging inside of her. The streak of moans that escaped your lady’s lips made your whole body shudder.

Then suddenly her hand snaked back in your hair, holding tightly and so close to your scalp that you felt your skin burn. Jane pressed you so deep into herself you could hardly breathe. She had taken back control of herself, and of you as well. You fisted the material of Jane’s drawers and squeezed your eyes shut as your tongue was ridden, your lady grinding herself into your mouth exactly how she wanted, how she needed.

Feverish shivers ran down your spine, your knees slowly sliding open on the wood flooring. You wished you had tucked a pillow between your legs before this began so you could ride out your own pleasure as you dripped from having your face fucked. But your lady wouldn’t have allowed it, you were quite certain she enjoyed having you squirm helplessly.

Jane’s movements became erratic, her chest quickly heaving up and down as she desperately chased her release. And then you felt it. You felt her come. You felt the cruelest woman you knew come into your mouth, her clit throbbing against your tongue as she let a single loud guttural moan out.

As the hand on the back of your head loosened its grip, you slumped against the older woman’s thigh. And as you knelt there, half of your face slick and chin dripping with Jane’s essence, you wondered - is this how Eve felt, taking the first bite of the forbidden fruit, as pomegranate juice dripped on her naked breasts from her open lips?

————————————————————————

tag list: @mysteriouslysapphic @opheliauniverse @yourlocaldisneyvillain @notinmyvocab @h-doodles @teeniegreeniebeanie @katie-bennet @willowshadenox @bikergurl5 @renravens

[steddieas-shegoes]

naked under there

for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop up event 'graduation'

rated m | 940 words | cw: mention of illness (flu symptoms), mentions of sexual content | tags: established relationship, modern au, college graduation, sick fic, the laziest possible almost handjob you may ever see (that's why it's not even rated e)

🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓

Steve worked his ass off to get here, and now his ass was fucking cold.

This was definitely his own fault, but he hadn't considered the fact that the graduation ceremony was inside. With air conditioning. And fans blowing on the stage to help circulate more air.

Steve was naked under his graduation gown.

He was standing in an arena filled with nearly 1500 students and probably 5000 family members and friends, and he was naked.

Admittedly, not his brightest moment.

And what was worse, what was actually going to kill him, was Eddie called him an hour before the ceremony crying because he had a fever and migraine and body aches and Wayne wouldn't let him get out of bed. So he'd done all this for nothing.

He only had a few people ahead of him now, and his body was shivering. He looked out to find Robin, but she was lost in the sea of people already called to get their diploma sitting back in their seats. Steve was the biggest idiot here. They shouldn't even give him his diploma.

"Steven William Harrington."

He quickly made his way across the stage, smiling as he heard cheering in the upper level of the arena. All his kids had made it, though a couple of them didn't fly in until earlier that day and had to rush, so he didn't get to see them before he had to line up and get to his seat. Wayne promised to be there too, more of a parent figure for him in the last four years than his own parents had ever been. Even Nancy had made it, explaining that there was no way she was missing this when she'd helped so much with editing his papers.

As he walked off the stage, diploma in hand, he paused to smile for the camera that was taking pictures. He didn't think he needed them, but Wayne insisted on buying one to celebrate his achievement. He wanted to frame it and place it next to the picture he has of Eddie on his high school graduation day.

He forgot for a moment that the flash would make the pale yellow gown a bit more see-through. He forgot that the camera recording the entire session would probably capture this moment, too.

Instead of panicking, he walked back to his seat quickly, head down and hands holding his diploma in front of his entire crotch area. He was such an idiot, holy shit.

If he wanted to blame Eddie, he probably could, but really, this was all Steve.

Eddie had made a comment last week while he was fucking Steve against the wall that he couldn't wait to fuck him in his cap and gown. Steve couldn't stop thinking about being pulled into a closet after the ceremony, while everyone waited for them, Eddie lifting up the back of the gown and fucking into him.

Hence, being naked under the gown. Easy access was crucial when time was of the essence.

Except now, Eddie was dying of the flu in bed, and Steve was naked for no damn reason under this gown.

The shivering started again as soon as he sat in his seat. Why the hell was it so cold in here?

By the time they got to the last names beginning with Y, Steve felt miserable. He was freezing, but sweating down his back and neck, and the gown kept sticking to his thighs. His whole body felt sore and the pain behind his eyes was making its way to the back of his head and down his neck.

Would he get in trouble if he left early?

He had his diploma, and they were mostly done. He could go.

He left.

A few people around him told him to sit, but must not have felt the need to argue when they saw how miserable he looked.

His phone was buzzing in the pocket of the gown, but he couldn't bother to check it right now. He needed some fresh air and some water.

The fresh air helped slightly, but the sun hitting his eyes made him want to lay down and die. The headache increased exponentially as he tried to find a shady spot with no luck.

He could just walk back to the apartment. It was only three blocks.

Eddie was there.

His vision was slightly blurry as he made his way home, but he didn't need to see details to know how to get there. He walked this area every day for the last four years and now he was done.

He was done. Holy shit.

He barely made it in the door before he unzipped the gown and let it fall to the floor.

"Stevie?" Eddie's rough voice called from their bedroom.

He was so dizzy.

"Hey, Eds," Steve said as he climbed into bed, naked, sweaty, shivering, sick with the same illness Eddie was bedridden with.

"Sick?" Eddie whispered, eyes barely open as Steve turned on his side facing him in the bed.

"Think so."

"You're naked," Eddie said, eyes closing as he wrapped a hand around Steve's soft cock.

Steve let out a small moan, but didn't have the energy to do anything else. Neither did Eddie, it seemed, as he let out a small snore only a few seconds later.

Steve smiled to himself as he placed a hand on Eddie's chest and closed his eyes.

Eddie could fuck him in his cap and gown in a few days, like they planned, but this time, he wouldn't have to risk being caught in front of thousands of people.

[fatehbaz]

what does your username mean?

Cat ghost.

As child. Would go to library, to look at books about creatures, with a pen and notepad. Or sit before a television watching "nature" documentary stuff, with a pen and notepad. Was fixated on habitats. The context. Did not like to isolate an individual creature from the wider ecological community. This led to interest in geography, distribution range maps. Was aware that, in popular perception, some creatures were strongly associated with a particular place. "Lion is an African animal. Tiger is an Asian animal." Allegedly. And other stereotypes (many of them, I would later come to learn, due to chauvinism, exoticism, Orientalism, colonialism, etc.). Came across a kind of large textbook on wild cats. Saw the historical distribution maps. Only a few centuries ago, tigers were in Anatolia, the Caucasus, near the shores of the Black Sea. Was intrigued. From the middle of the twentieth century onward, the lion and cheetah were so closely associated with Africa, where like over 99% of their range was located. And yet. There remains a small remnant population of nearly-extinct Asiatic lions far away within India''s borders. And there remains a small remnant population of nearly-extinct Asiatic cheetahs within Iran's borders. And all that space, in between, where both cats were now extinct. Only 100 years ago, tiger, lion, leopard, and cheetah all lived generally near each other, still, in eastern Anatolia, near Mesopotamia, etc. And now, only a few dozen wild native cheetah remain on the entire continent of Asia.

"Cheetah". The word for this cat is from South Asia. Through Hindi, from Sanskrit.

"What happened?" I read on. Cheetahs were present within the national borders of what is now India, along with tigers, lions, and leopards. By the 1500s, there was a tradition in South Asia, where some in the Mughal aristocracy enjoyed using cheetahs as companions in sport hunting. The cats would be captured in the wild, and then trained, and then brought along on royal hunts. The cat was the star athlete, goaded into chasing down prey, for the entertainment of the hunting party. There are elaborate paintings, commissioned by Mughal courts and some now displayed in collections of European museums, depicting trained cheetah hunts. It has since been popularly said that Akbar was particularly fond of cheetahs. (Akbar the Great was the "emperor" who is credited often for consolidating Mughal state power across India, solidifying regional power by building administrative systems/structures in India ["forging an empire out of fiefdoms"] that would later eventually be manipulated and overtaken by the British Empire. According to some tellings of the historical narrative.)

Accurate or not, it was said that at any one time, Akbar possessed one thousand cheetahs. A vast royal menagerie. The names of several of the most celebrated cheetahs are still known. In some stories, when he was still young, Akbar was presented with a gift. His very first cheetah: Fatehbaz.

This disturbed me. A child, reading this book, I was upset by the idea of such a vast menagerie of wild animals. Large wild animals, with great need for food, space, enrichment. I was upset by the exploitation of captive wild animals as displays of aristocratic wealth, not just in the Mughal state(s), but also those menageires and exhibitions elsewhere, both earlier and later in time: the royal hunts of Assyrian kings, the Roman arenas, Charlemagne's elephants, European circuses.

So, as a child, I imagined that Fatehbaz resisted the captivity. Like in a daydream, a fantasy. I imagined a royal menagerie breaking free from restraint. I imagined elephants and rhinos and tigers and lions and leopards and jackals and crocodiles. I imagined the beasts attacking an emperor's court. But there are now less than one hundred cheetahs which survive in the wild in Asia. And when Mughal statecraft gave way to European statecraft, when Britain moved into South Asia, the bounty hunting specifically targeted big cats. And, meanwhile, the cats were confronted indirectly with habitat destruction, commodity crop monocultures, industrial-scale resource extraction. So I came to imagine the ghosts of cats. The ghost of a cheetah like Fatehbaz on the Indus plain. The ghost of a jaguar in the Sonoran desert. The ghost of a lion on the Mediterranean coast. The ghost of a tiger on the Amu Darya shore beyond Bukhara, where even the Aral Sea itself has vanished.

[thecameronchronicles]

Raw

TW: Smut. Unprotected sex. Smut. Language. 

JJ Maybank x Kook Reader.

SUMMARY: Going bare with JJ!

WORD COUNT: 1500

REQUESTED

Could you write for JJ or Rafe (you choose) where him and reader always wear protection but she asks him to not wear a condom for the first time and he thinks it’s the best thing ever 🙏🏽

I love your writing so much I miss you and I can’t wait for you to be back 

*THANK YOU SO MUCH! LOVE THIS! HOPE YOU ENJOY*

Raw

His toes anchored into the sheets just as your fingers had into his shoulders. His kiss alone enough to need every part of him against you. The claw made into the bare shoulders from an a nearly naked torso quick to validate this as he smirked against your neck. 

"Slow down there, princess, we've got all night."

"I need to feel you, JJ..." 

"I'm right here..." He pressed your hand over this heart, a jackhammer beat behind your palm. If this were any other moment, you'd count the pulse behind each breath as a reason you loved him. But it had been days since you last felt his touch and you were desperate enough to set all romance to the sidebar. 

"All of you, JJ..." You explained, fingers already working his belt as he offered that wide smile that showcased his dimples. 

"Well who am I to argue?" 

"My boyfriend..." You lived to remind him of this. His eyes illuminated yet lowered to the title. 

"All your little stalkers on Figure Eight know that?"

"Every one, JJ..."

"They know that you let me touch you wherever I want? Why you're always smiling like that when you go back to them?" He clenched his jaw at the thought of you leaving him, knowing you were returning to them. Those he could never be or even come close to comparing to. Yet, this was why you loved him. He wasn't predictable or set to follow any set of footsteps or reputation. In fact, he wanted to break that correlation between his father and him. Luke and JJ couldn't be any more different. Yet another reason you loved him. 

"I don't hide you, JJ..."

"Well even if you tried, gonna be hard to explain all these little hickies and scratches...slap marks to this ass..." He took a sharp hold to the mass in his hand. 

"Goddamn...this perfect ass..." He shook it for a moment as you gasped at the sudden act of dominance, certain to leave more than just slap marks, possibly even bruising. 

"I mean it, JJ...I want all of you..." He leaned to the bedside table. 

"No..." His focus shot to you, always an advocate for consent as he read your expression well. Taking in every detail of your body to ensure he hadn't crossed some line. 

"I want to feel all of you inside of me..."

"Like from a different angle?'When he found the truth just out of reach, your impatience shown, you just took hold of his cock as it teased against you from behind his trunks. 

"Please, JJ..."

"But what about a baby...Not sure you know this, sweetheart, but I am gonna end up marrying you one day...But I wanna do it right..." Your eyes swelled with his words. His compassion and care shown through every action since you made your relationship official just over a year prior. But until now you'd never been quite this vulnerable. Close. But not so...naked...bare...raw... 

"I took precautions...I've wanted to without a condom-"

"I don't know if I'll be able to last as long as I normally would have..."

"Your mouth can make it up to me if you can't..." You turned with seductive eyes. 

"You're sure?" 

"More than I've ever been of anything..." You confessed as truthful a confession as ever as he nodded. 

"I'm nervous..." He explained while fumbling for his pants. 

"Just focus on me..." You kissed him, guiding his pants from his waist before exposing him to you. But as your hand wrapped around his shaft, he took hold of your wrist. 

"If you do that, I definitely won't last." 

"So choking on you is out of the question?"

"Goddammit, woman, what are you trying to do to me?" He chuckled. 

"Trying to get you to come inside of me..."

"You really want me to?" 

"Not sure how much clearer I can be, JJ..." He took your hands between his before pinning them abruptly beside your face. A gasp left from your lips parted just enough to hear this utterance. 

"Are you saying I can have you anyway I want?"

"Is being naked and doing it without a condom not enough?" You chuckled as he rose over you and to the edge of the bed. A sudden grip of your ankles pulled you into your stomach. A single pinch of her suit tied behind her neck and it was discarded on the floor. 

"John B is gonna kill me if you soak his sheets...."

"How am I supposed to- He answered by simply pushing your suit to the side. Somehow the exchange that much hotter as he slipped against you. Savoring just your warmth alone before teasing that point of entry he frequented in repetition. 

"You already feel so good..." He began to ride into you from behind, your lower lips quivering to where you pulsated for him. His touch no longer enough. 

"Please...JJ..."

"I can't wait anymore..." He hoped to tease you, to hear you beg as it made your privileged lips that much sweeter for him. And as you'd compromised enough, he sunk into you as you moaned. 

He was completely exposed yet concealed within you. But in contrast to when even the thinnest of protection would wrap around him, nothing compared to how you felt now. It showed immediately in the way his kindness shattered and obliterated into pure carnality. The gradual snap of his hips kept your own pinned as his fingers intertwined with your as he fed your grip further into the sheets. 

"Fuck..." He spoke into your shoulder as your nearly naked body accepted his as the glutton you were for him. Every inch of his perfect body in contact with yours as he was desperate for you. Until he slowed. 

"JJ?" 

"I want to take you in every inch of this chateau in every position..." 

"I can't wait, JJ, please..." You groaned before those tense lips fell slack to the way his hand rode up between your breasts and captured one for stability. Your hand released to direct him to your clit. 

"Please, JJ...I'll be so quiet, nobody will even hear us..."

"What's the fun in that?" He hoisted your hips to meet his, keeping his shaft in place, before he guided your hand around the headboard. 

"I want everyone to know how fucking good I feel inside of you...all to know you're all mine." He slapped your ass.

 "Only mine." Another swat made you whimper as he was unhinged behind you. The headboard sure to scar the wall at the mercy of each wave as it was impossible for the other pogues and invitees of the party to be unaware of why you slipped away. 

"JJ!" You nearly shrieked as he thrust you harder into him, amplifying the sensations by further depth and speed as you continued to call out to him. But no matter the volume you pleaded, nothing silenced that of the rush of skin to skin contact. 

"Last chance to change your mind, princess...I know you can be indecisive..." He teased, a hand to your hip sharpening its grip as he exhaled deeply behind you. 

"Come inside me, JJ! I want to feel you come for me!" 

"Yes ma'am..." He answered breathlessly before those final sets of thrusts ripped you through your orgasm. Your body not allowed to bask in the twitch of his cock before a second rush interrupted the bliss prior to overstimulation. Two orgasms side by side as you were shambles in his arms. 

"Please tell me we can have it like this every time?"

"Only if you do THAT everytime..." He pulled you up to him, a whimper of his sudden absence making him smirk. 

"My greedy little princess already want more?"

"I was promised your mouth..."

"That was if I disappointed...and with how wet these little bottoms are..." He traced your thighs."And how you're dripping, I'd say I didn't..."

"But what would John B think if you didn't clean up your mess?" He flexed his brow as you expected him to lie you flat. Instead, his breath was on your bawling lower lips. 

"You make even more of a mess and you'll be the one explaining it to him."

"Gladly-" you gasped to the heat of his tongue    as it made contact with the promise you held him to for a role he had certainly played. The softest whimper of his name left just prior to that final wave of pleasure that brought stars to your eyes and a new rush of ecstasy between your thighs. Setting him up for a new position himself as you were made well aware this was anything but over...

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel@phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK 2ND MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK AND KOOK READER MASTERLIST

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

[xxsycamore]

hmm for ny 3rd (i hope i counted right) 🥺 w/gil~ pls and tyyyyy

[🥺] 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙶𝚒𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎…

GILBERT:

Being in the library with Gilbert is always a joy for you. Not only do you get to partake in a shared hobby with him, you also get to see the sparkle in his eye when he takes interest in some of the books. You've been browsing the bookshelves each on your own for some time now, with him on one side and you on the other. Somewhere in the middle, your timing aligns, and the moment you take a step to the left to move on to the next bookshelf, so does Gilbert by taking a right step - and your eyes meet.

Your quick response is to give him a wink; as simple and playful of a greeting as that. And you're surprised that he gives you one back.

...Although, with his eyepatch covering one eye, you nearly mistook it for a mere blink instead.

He's perfectly aware of the sight he put on for you, in fact, he might have done it on purpose - and so laughter suddenly bubbles on your lips, and before you know it, the word "cute" comes out of your mouth.

Gilbert makes a little "oh?" noise, shortening the distance between the two of you. He cradles your face in his right hand, bringing the soft part at the base of his thumb that is uncovered by his glove just over your lips.

"Am I so cute that you want to bite me?"

You're stunned by his sudden actions, not quite catching on why he's asking you that. As usual, he gets you by a gaze alone. His smile only broadens.

"After all, that's exactly what I get the urge to do every time you're being cute, my little rabbit."

∎ Steal My Heart!! - xxsycamore’s 1500 followers celebration event | 💌 event masterlist

[lovrily]

Loved the Steve Harrington x shy reader ones, can you please make another where reader is shy but super kind inside? Like she rescues sick kittens or dogs from street and lets them be free after a good care when nobody's around? Really wanna see Steve's reaction after he accidently finds her doing so.

P.s-Hope you're enjoying the beach🫶

hi friend!! the beach was so good but there's sand everywhere and i can't get rid of it xoxo. thank you for ur request i hope this fits what you imagined <3

shy + fem!reader | 1500 words

"hey!"

your head snaps up at the sudden harsh call, but their next words are softer and maybe a little exasperated.

"what the hell are you doing in the road?"

steve harrington approaches like a mirage. the anchor of your stomach drops, nerves nearly pinning you to the ground. heat ripples off of the pavement and off the edges of his hair, ringer-tee tight around his arms. his BMW is parked in a gravel offshoot a yard or two away. for a moment, you forget what you're doing and your hands go free.

"hi," you muster. "i was..."

oh! you whip back around, surprised to find the dog you've discovered still meandering toward the far side of the road. it's limping on its back right leg, as if it keeps pushing forward, the injury will heal itself. it's a bully of some sort; not quite a pit, but definitely not a bulldog. its fur is completely white save for some dirt around its paws and nose.

steve slows to a jogging stop and flicks his hand at you where you kneel. get up, he's motioning. his brows are drawn in the sunlight, and likely in confusion, too. when you go to stand, he takes your bicep gently in his hand and pulls you the rest of the way to your feet. he even steadies you once you're up.

"good?"

your ears go hot as irons. you want to thank him, but it's hard to speak when he's around, so you just nod.

"is it yours?" he asks.

"no," you reply. "no, i just...i was on my bike and i saw it limping."

he throws you an odd glance. "we're on the interstate."

it's true. in the wooded part, at least- surrounded by trees and a metal barrier. but the road is windy, and if a car came around from the opposite side, it would have to be paying good attention to spot you at the curve.

you blink at steve, surprised at how much he seems to care. it's obvious that he does- you're quiet; not dense. but you still don't know what to say.

"it's okay," you shrug.

really? that's the best you could come up with?

steve shakes his head, a little frantic as he takes your forearm and leads you to the metal barrier, climbing over it and then offering his hands to you a second time. "c'mon. hop over."

you blink at him, a little stunned still. it's a bit of a ridiculous reaction, maybe. steve is one of your best friends. but he's also...steve. you can't really be entirely calm around steve harrington. especially not when he appears out of nowhere and drives his car off the road to check on you.

you take his hands and step over. once you've landed, his hands swipe across your shoulders; an almost extended release.

the dog lingers on the other side of the railing. steve swings his legs back over the barrier, and it teeters backward, frightened by his height or maybe just the drop of his feet.

"hey," he calls, frazzled. "don't...it's okay. c'mere."

the dog whines, wary.

the whirring of an engine catches your attention, and you're forced to speak.

"steve," you say. his name is foreign on your lips despite how familiar he is to you. "there's a car."

"it's okay," he replies, kneeling. his voice is a murmur. the dog is backing further into the road, its wounded paw drifting over the yellow median. steve's gaze is sharp, both of you afraid for the animal now. you feel a little bad for dragging him into it. if something happens to the dog, now steve will have to be sad about it, too.

a blue volkswagen comes around the curve too fast for your liking and you're propelled over the barrier, grabbing the neck of steve's shirt.

you yank him backwards, although he probably didn't need it. the dog scampers off just in time as the car shoots by. its back lights stay dim, the driver not even tapping the brakes as flashes of white fur disappear into the forest on the other side of the road. and just like that, the dog is gone.

"damnit," steve huffs. but his shoulders are rigid. breaths rise and fall quickly from his chest, hard and fast, as if he's trying to slow down his heart. he glances over his shoulder, but not quite at you, without moving to pry your fingers off of his shirt. "i don't see it."

your expression crumples.

steve locks eyes with you after a moment of silence. his brown eyes are wide, expectant, as if he knew what your wordless response would be. his head cocks to the side a bit before he straightens out and sighs.

"alright, alright. i'll drive around and look for it."

his neck is warm. you let go, wrinkles from your grip left in the shirt. he wipes a hand over the top of his spine like you've left a film and turns to you.

"you shouldn't just park your bike on the road, mother theresa."

you scoff at the nickname, turning from his gaze. "i am not."

"yeah, whatever," he huffs in return, as if he's ready to leave, although he hasn't moved to do so.

it's nice of him to offer to look for the dog, but you're sure he won't find it again just by driving around. why would it risk going out onto the road again? you needed to look in the woods.

"why are you making that face?" he complains.

huh? "what face?"

"that...oh, man, whatever. alright. quit ogling at me. i'm gonna do it."

you laugh before you can stop it, and if steve was tempted to smile by that, he scrubs the look off his face quickly.

"what are you talking about?" you breathe.

"you're looking at me all...helpless," he retorts. "now i have to do whatever you ask."

that does it. if your ears went hot before, all of you is on fire now. you turn completely around, pretending to look for your bike in the trees, but you had left it in the complete opposite direction and you're too worked up to pass by steve on your way there.

finally, you're forced to turn back around. there's nowhere to hide from the incredibly obvious diversion you attempted and steve is going to be standing there no matter how long you pretend to be searching for something.

he's standing with his arms folded.

"do you do this a lot?"

you stare at him, brows lifting. do what? he reads your expression.

"pick up lost puppies, brake for birds...that sort of thing."

"those are different things," you murmur.

"you get it," steve retorts.

but you don't. the notion that you're some sort of sweet and gentle creature is odd to you, considering how clunky and awkward you feel most of the time, and for steve to suggest that you just did 'that sort of thing' was entirely unexpected to you.

of course, to steve, it's plain as day; you are the sweetest thing he's ever seen, and he would camp out in a tent on the interstate for the next week until he found that dog. for you.

he has to bite back a grimace at how enamored he is with you to offer his hand.

"c'mon. you can put your bike in the trunk and then we'll go look for the dog." he clocks your concern and sighs gently. "on foot."

good.

you're greedy and take his hand before you can be afraid to, and when you step over the railing, it's clumsy; your right leg landing harder than your left. you stumble, and steve catches you, your torso folded over his arm.

when he stands you up, you can't even look at him. but you can see the amused grin on his face out of the corner of your eye, kind and surprised and maybe a little cocky.

"you know what? i'll get the bike. you just...stand there. and try to stay standing until i get back."

you shoot a glare at his back despite your nerves. he returns with your bike, looking weightless in his arms, and says- "think you can make it to the car by yourself, or do you need me to carry you?"

you grin, all embarrassment. "shut up."

"that dog would be shocked by your harsh words if he could talk."

"steve," you laugh breathlessly.

he chuckles, quiet and soft, like he hadn't meant to let it out.

"this should be fun."

[hotmessmaxpress]

Rosquez Onlyfans au, part 8/?

The porn is back 🤍 1500 ish words and vale finally gets to plow that twink

Note to my Italians: I hope the travel makes sense. I was on travel websites trying to find flights and train tickets and that’s what I found 😅 I have unfortunately never been to Italy and I did my best

Marc flies into Ancona and takes a train to Pesaro. The plan is for Vale to pick him up there, and drive him to his home in Tavullia. His train gets in late, and despite his exhaustion from traveling he is nearly vibrating with anxiety in his seat.

What if Vale doesn’t come get him? Maybe this is all a trick to make Marc leave Vale alone, and he’s going to be stuck at an Italian train station in the middle of the night.

What if Vale comes to get him and they don’t actually get along? What if they don’t have chemistry? That’s perhaps Marc’s biggest fear; that Vale will come get him and decide that he doesn’t actually like him after all. Marc is worried that he might not be good enough for Vale.

His train is only a few minutes late, and his heart is racing as he takes his bag and walks onto the street to find Vale.

Marc had assumed he’d try to be discreet, but he either does not care about being spotted or he is oblivious– he is parked illegally, completely blocking two entire taxi spaces, and Marc can hear music playing through his open window.

Vale gets out of the car when Marc approaches, and they hug. Marc is surprised that Vale would be fine being so public, and he mentions it when they get in the car and Vale takes off.

Vale shrugs. “It’s late at night. People will leave us alone.”

Marc hums in reply. It’s not as if he knows any better, so he may as well take Vale’s word for it.

Vale turns to grin at him as they hit the road.

“Welcome to Italy.”

Marc is so in love with him that it’s embarrassing. He wants to kiss him; he wants to suck his dick in the car while he drives. He wants to beg Vale to pull over.

He doesn’t, because he has some couth, but judging by the way Vale keeps looking at him and the charged air in the car, Vale wouldn’t tell him no if he asked.

Since it is late, Vale promises that they can do a tour in the morning.

“Will you let me ride with you?” Marc asks, excitedly.

Vale looks him up and down. “Can you fit on any of my bikes? You’re so small.”

Marc can feel his face heat up.

“I can handle whatever bike you give me.”

Vale’s eyes are heated and he grins.

“We’ll see about that.”

Marc can’t help his little shrill giggle.

“Will I have to meet Uccio?”

Vale laughs.

“Maybe. I told him to stay away but he might come anyway just to bother me.”

Marc wrings his hands nervously.

“You won’t kick me out, will you?”

“Only if you beat me when we race,” Vale says with a shrug and a wink.

They barely make it inside the house before they’re on each other. Marc doesn’t know or care who moves first. They meet in a frenzy of lips and teeth and hands, and Marc moans into Vale’s mouth.

Vale gets his hands on Marc’s waist underneath his shirt, and pulls him close to his body. Marc wraps his arms around Vale’s neck, threading his fingers through the curls on the back of his neck and hoping he can hold Vale there, against him, forever.

They kiss until they can stand to part, and Vale pulls Marc upstairs and into his bedroom. Marc freezes in the doorway.

“You really do have a bike in here.” He lets go of Vale’s hand to step toward it and peer at it. He turns to Vale with wide eyes. “You won a championship on this,” he says, in awe.

Vale grins.

“Sit on it,” he encourages.

Marc climbs onto the bike immediately, settling himself into the seat. It feels at once foreign and familiar; the feeling of sitting on a racing bike is like second-nature to him, but he’s acutely aware of who the bike belongs to.

He’s hard in his joggers.

When he looks up at Vale, he can see that Vale is similarly affected, judging by the bulge in his own pants. Marc swings his leg back over the bike and Vale advances on him, grabbing him and manhandling him from the bike to the bed.

Marc is much stronger than Vale but he lets himself be small and thrown around, relishing in the feeling of Vale yanking his shirt off and pushing him onto the bed.

Vale strips his own shirt off and Marc moans, staring at the tattoo that set this all in motion. He makes a mental note that he has to get his mouth on it. He needs to taste it. He needs to taste Vale.

He tangles his hands in Vale’s hair again, pulling him down on top of him. Vale’s kisses are filthy; all tongue and teeth and spit. Marc wants it all. He wants Vale to consume him, to fill him, to take everything he wants from him. He wants to belong to Vale.

He moans as Vale bites and sucks at his neck. Vale unties Marc’s joggers and pulls them down, freeing Marc’s hard cock.

“Fuck, Vale, please.”

Vale sits back on his heels and drags his eyes down Marc’s body. He takes in every part of him, heat in his eyes.

“You’re perfect,” Vale says.

Marc feels his cock twitch. Vale runs a hand up Marc’s bare thigh.

“You’re smooth,” he observes. Marc’s cock twitches again. He’s glad Vale is impressed; Marc keeps himself smooth and waxed.

“Vale, please,” Marc begs.

Vale clicks his tongue and pulls his own shorts off, and Marc’s mouth waters at the sight of his cock. Vale has seen his loads of times, but Marc being able to see Vale’s is incredible.

Marc prepped and stretched himself before getting on the flight, so when Vale drags a hand down and presses a finger against his hole he feels no resistance.

Vale groans, low in his throat.

“Marc, you are perfect.”

Marc desperately wants to be perfect for Vale.

“Please,” he begs.

Vale leans down to kiss him, and Marc is so focused on the taste of Vale’s tongue in his mouth that he barely feels the pressure of Vale lining up his cock and pressing it against his hole. He whines as Vale pushes inside him.

The feeling of being inside Marc, finally, drives Vale nearly insane. He has wanted to fuck Marc since he first saw him, and being able to finally have his hands on him, and his cock inside him is nearly enough to drive him insane.

He kisses Marc again and again as he builds up a rhythm, listening to the little punched-out groans Marc makes as Vale fucks into his small tight hairless body.

“Please,” Marc begs, as Vale pulls away for air. A string of spit hangs between their mouths, and Vale wants to devour him.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re perfect,” Vale says.

He continues to babble horny nonsense in between sucking on Marc’s tongue. He loves learning the little moans and whimpers that Marc makes when he feels good; Vale wants to spend the rest of his life in this bed.

He can feel his orgasm building, but he wants to last. He pauses his movements, despite the whine Marc lets out at that. He adjusts, folding Marc’s legs up toward his chest. Marc is flexible, a thought which Vale has to file away for later to avoid coming.

Vale starts pounding into him in earnest, groaning and tucking his face into Marc’s neck.

“Fuck, Vale, please. Come in me,” Marc begs.

Vale hadn’t even considered a condom, he realizes. He find himself unbothered, and instead groans at the idea of stuffing Marc with his cum.

“Fuck, yes, okay,” he grunts.

He knows he’s close, so he reaches down to jerk Marc’s cock. Marc is basically crying from overstimulation at this point, and Vale bites his earlobe. He needs to have Marc— all of him. He feels Marc tense, then he shoots his load between their bodies.

Vale follows soon after, hips stuttering as he fills Marc’s hole with his cum. He fucks deep into him, trying to mark the other man’s insides. He wants his cum to stay inside him; to remind Marc who he belongs to as it slowly leaks out of him.

He rolls off to the side of Marc, and Marc wipes their stomachs with the sheet before shoving it away and tugging the duvet on top of them.

Vale pulls him close, and Marc seems surprised and relieved as he throws a leg over one of Vale’s. They’re a little sticky; the sheet only did so much.

“Thank you for letting me come here,” Marc says quietly. Vale kisses him on the forehead, then tangles a hand in his hair.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m never letting you go.”

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

🩹 😘 💖

Congrats on 1500!

thank you my love 🥹🫶🥰 and thank you for sticking around so long 😘 i adore always seeing your requests in my inbox and getting your messages 🖤🖤🖤

(tbh i really didn’t think i’d even get to this point 😂)

“There baby, you can barely even notice it.” You said as you gently applied the bandage to Eddie’s forehead. He groaned, looking in the mirror and seeing not only a decently sized red bump, but a bruise right on his forehead.

He didn’t mean for those shelves to break, especially not right on his head, and definitely not under the circumstances he thought. It was rare when Eddie wasn’t being at least a little rough when you were making love, he always got a little more into it than he thought.

His hands were on your hips, guiding your body back into him as the thrusted into you from behind, your pretty hair sprawled across one of his pillows as you were biting into it to not bother the neighbors anymore than his headboard banging into the wall was. Even then he could see the little screws starting to give in his wall, but all he could focus on was you and how amazing he was making you feel.

Getting you off was much more important to him than getting himself off. What a gentleman.

With a few final thrusts into you he stayed still, keeping you full for another few moments and leaning down to gently kiss a trail down your spine before slowly pulling out of you. He wanted you to miss having him inside you even if it was just for a few moments switching positions.

“Sit up baby girl,” His arms reached down to help you up, gently petting out the little tangles from your hair as his bare chest was against your back, “you’re on top now. Is that alright? Think those sore little legs can handle it?” He said with a smirk.

No words left your lips. Just a gentle nod and a quiet ‘mm-hmm’ as you moved back onto his mattress, giving him enough room to lay back and watch as you straddled him.

He smiled at his work. Watching how slowly you crawled over him, your body dragging along his, your soft hands moving up his chest and into his hair, gently combing your fingers through the ends and twirling them around your fingers. His curls always looked so pretty when he was laid back underneath you.

He places his hands onto your hips and as he slowly guided you down onto him, he made the mistake of adjusting himself on the bed, the headboard banging against the wall one final time before the nails holding up that shelf finally gave in.

SMACK! Right onto his forehead.

It left behind a pretty nasty gash on his forehead, not to mention a few decently sized holes in the wall from being nearly ripped out. He was thankful his little trinkets and figures were unharmed.

After a little bit of cleanup, and a hasty change into your pajamas, you could see that it was just a little cut. Nothing a kiss and a bandaid couldn’t fix. And maybe a few days of applying Neosporin.

Eddie groaned as you leaned over him, placing a very gentle kiss on top of the bandaid.

“You’ll be alright Eddie, your hair covers up most of it so i don’t think anyone will notice much more than the bandaid.”

He sighed as he sat there, looking in the mirror at himself, his eyes moving back and forth from himself to you again before a slight smirk came to his lips.

“Everything alright?” You asked him, placing your hand onto his shoulder.

Eddie laughed before turning to look at you,

“Wayne’s gonna be so fucking pissed when he sees that wall…”

if you’d like to participate in the event just check out the details here 🥰

[oneknightstand-if]

Say deep into the romance(the notorious L word has been said and everything), how protective of the MC's are the RO's? And how would they handle losing the MC(i,e the MC died in the final battle/sacrificed themselves to win the day or something angsty like that)?

Well, a bunch of the ROs will already be trying to protect the MC as much as they can even before any romance, so there's not too much room to improve there. Also high affinity platonic bond can trigger this as much as any romance.

Merlin: Already the resident bodyguard/babysitter/cat-herder of the group. May give the MC a bit more attention when the group is in danger... but they're already watching over you. They'd perhaps feel more regret if they had to cut the MC loose.

For them, MC's death is... expected. Human lives are so ephemeral, after all. They'll always remember you... even thousands of years later and will bring the MC up in random conversations to random people. Probably MC's most embarrassing moments. For anyone paying attention & talking extensively to them in the game, Merlin already has repeatedly brought up their last longterm lover.

Biggest change here would be Merlin nearly killing themself to make certain that the MC's soul doesn't get dragged to Heaven or Hell. That's the fate that they'd find horrific for a loved one, not the natural death expected of all mortals.

Adrian: He's already potentially carrying the MC away from danger through half the city whether they like it or not so there's no room for Adrian to get more protective without going full yandere on you.

If the high affinity MC is dead, then Adrian is also most likely dead as well. He's the most ride or DIE of all the ROs and this already has implications if you go through the route where the MC refuses to leave their apartment and gets kidnapped by Merlin and Adrian.

Arthur: Due to his nature, he's already MAXIMUM THE PROTECTOR. He may be paying a bit more attention to you during times of danger, but he's already protecting you to his full capability and won't be acting any differently... after all, he's the High King and can't prioritize your safety over all others.

The same goes for the MC's death. The Post Apocalypse is still going to be a complete clusterfuck so he won't have time to stop and grieve. (The same as he won't have time to stop and grieve the fall of Camelot and the deaths of most of the people he knew because unlike the other Harbingers who reincarnated or who actually lived through the 1500 years span of time, to him Camelot fell last week.)

He'll create a suitable memorial customized exactly to the MC's tastes once things have calmed down. And Merlin will sneak over to comfort him, because Merlin's one of the few who can see past Arthur's strong front.

Percy: He's going to be hanging around a high affinity MC a lot, romanced or not. You're probably not going to notice much difference protection-wise as he's the sort who'd jump in to help you without a moment's notice even if he didn't like you.

At the MC's death, he'd probably disappear into a forest for several weeks without anyone being able to find him. He'll eventually return to the group though because he knows that he's needed. The MC would've been his first romantic love... and most probably will be his last as well.

4̷0̸4̸ ̷E̷r̷r̵o̴r̵ ̶N̶o̴t̷ ̴F̵o̸u̵n̶d̵: [SPOILERS]

Cassandra: She's a cop, so she's already keeping a protective eye out on the entire group as a whole. She'll be making extra special precautions for a high affinity MC. (This is probably one of the safest positions to have during the Apocalypse... as long as the MC behaves themselves).

Cassandra has some pretty traumatic stuff in her background, so this won't be the first lover she's lost. Her reaction will also depend on how you went... in an awesome blaze of glory (she'll build a statue for you) or something painfully drawn out & full of regret (heads will roll).

Vivian: Uh... you are probably going to need to have a 'discussion' with Vivian regarding her protectiveness. It can get a bit overwhelming at times. Like Merlin, she is well aware of the inherent ephemeral nature of a mortal.

So wouldn't it be better if she just 'took care' of all those people who approach you, just in case they turned out to be dangerous? And actually, why don't you stay with her at the bottom of the lake from now on? All the time. That would be very safe.

Otherwise, whatever killed the MC better hope it's already dead before Vivian gets at them.

Gwen: She's more the type that people protect than the type who protects people. The support from the background type. But you get close enough, that will not stop her at all and she will absolutely try to protect you to the best of her ability. Like right up there in the frontlines. You both may need to end up saving each other in that case.

About the MC's death... it's fine. It's fine. You've already died and reincarnated once. It can happen again. She'll be waiting for you. Eternally if necessary.

Lorelei: She'll already be highly protective of certain types of MCs (romanced or otherwise). Unlike some of the others, there'll actually be a noticeable change in her demeanor.

She's not the type to ever abandon someone in danger, but she will absolutely prioritize a romanced or high affinity MC over others. To the point where highly skilled fighter MCs may need to tell her to take a step back because she's jumping in even when it would be better that she did her own thing.

Will be quietly having a BSOD upon the MC's death (which she' ll blame entirely on her failing to protect and be there for the MC at the last moment). She'll eventually come back to the group as the icy version of Wrath, barely interacting with others while still carrying out her duties. (The other Harbingers are going to really have their work cut out for them there.)

Broderick: Another one who's demeanor will change after getting close to him... especially after what happens in his subplot. He'll be constantly protectively hovering over high affinity MC. But just during the dangerous times. (Which is actually all the time.) The MC will probably need to work through a few issues with him.

He'll be completely gutted by the MC's death and not really functional for quite awhile after that point. Definitely a changed man (and not for the better). It might take years for him to recover.

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Second time in one week I try to write porn without plot and somehow 1-2k words of soft fluffy hurt-comfort bullshit show up at the front door and just make themselves at home. I'm not even kidding, the last 1500 words are just more sex, but softer. There's not even any elements of the prompts in that part. Someone take away my fucking Tumblr and Ao3.

Anyways. With that out of the way, may I present to the esteemed ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise categorized inhabitants of Tumblr: Kinktober in December

Kinktober day 23/24: Shibari + pet play - Gaz x reader

Warnings/Tags: Bondage/shibari, Pet play (kitten, specifically), gags, blindfolds, overstimulation, fem!reader, unprotected piv sex, sex as aftercare, then more aftercare. The pet play is pretty light in this, and Gaz is a soft dom but gets a bit meaner than usual here. The gets super soft.

Gaz was an asshole. That's it, you’ve decided. Let it be known across the lands that you, girlfriend supreme, officially, deem your sweet, caring boyfriend of nearly 10 months a complete asshole on the rare occasion he decides to be mean in the bedroom.

Or… maybe the term “pill” would be more suitable. Because calling him an “asshole” implies a certain level of jerkiness, and Gaz was anything but a jerk- and it also implies that he’s doing something you don’t like… and it would be a lie to say you didn’t like this.

This being how you’re spread out on the bed- lying on your stomach and held in place by an array of intricate knots. Your right leg was stretched out behind you and towards the bottom of the bed. A rope looped around your ankle is secured to the foot of the bed- keeping you from pulling it up. Another loop is done around the thigh of the same leg, although the loop around your thigh goes to secure to the side of the bed frame instead of the foot, and the loop itself was done a bit tight- not enough to hurt- just enough for the muscle and fat of the area to bubble out a bit. Your left leg was bound completely differently. Gaz had had you bend your knee all the way, until your heel was nearly touching your butt- then had tied it that way. The bindings on that leg also had a rope connecting down to the bed frame- although done to the side and towards the headboard. Together with the positioning of your other leg, the ropes kept your legs spread and your body on display for anyone in the room.

Your arms were tied too, of course. Gaz had pulled them both behind you and had you bend your elbows so he could bond your forearms together horizontally. And in addition to the ropes keeping you in place, there was, of course, a cute little pair of cat ears perched atop your head.

The position wasn’t uncomfortable, and it was far easier for Gaz to get you into than plenty of the others the two of you had done. Gaz had even given the ropes keeping your legs in place a bit of slack out of consideration for your hip flexors.

That really should have been your first warning.

Gaz was usually meticulous with his rope work. If he didn’t want you to be able to move, you would not be able to move. So the fact that you were left with enough room to wiggle, squirm, and even slightly reposition yourself was an intentional one.

But you didn’t quite catch on to what he was planning until later.

You let him tug a blindfold over your eyes- blissfully unaware of whatever he was doing behind you- aside from teasing him whenever you heard the sound of him dropping or struggling to find something in his own closet. 

You laughed when he responded to your teases with a quip of his own- warning you to mind the rather vulnerable position you’ve let him put you in. a warning which you, of course, paid no heed to. Gaz wasn’t much of a stickler for behavior- you could get away with whatever the bratting equivalent of murder was with him, and you knew it. With Gaz, it was all soft and sweet- although certainly not vanilla. 

You didn’t think much of it when, once he finally found what he was looking for, he positioned himself behind you and, instead of going for your cunt, poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and started opening up your ass.

You whined softly and arched your back for him, grinding your clit down against the mattress beneath you and greedily pushing back on the one, then two fingers that stretched you open. Your needy display was met only with amusement- no praises of “good girl” and no hand reaching down to toy with your clit.

You couldn’t help but pout, still rocking back on the fingers that fucked you open. You could play this man like a damn fiddle, and you knew it- why weren't your usual tricks working?

You didn't even think much of it when he finally removed his fingers- only to replace them with a toy instead of his cock. You did, however, whine a bit about it. Why did he have to spend all that time stretching your ass if he was just going to fuck your pussy anyways?

You weren't given an answer beyond an amused chuckle and a reminder to “be patient”.

The toy in your ass is one you recognize immediately. The fur tickling at your skin was a dead giveaway- along with the fact that wherever the cat ears go, Gaz makes sure the matching tail will follow.

You only start to realize it’s not going to be one of you two’s usual nights when you feel the head of a wand vibrator nestled against your clit and turned on.

You immediately jerk in your bindings, yelping at the sudden stimulation and immediately trying to lift your hips up and away from it- only for the vibrator to move with you. You whine pitifully as you realize Gaz is tying it to your thigh, arching your back harder and practically wiggling your ass for him as you try to squirm away from the toy.

“Settle down, kitty.” Gaz says calmly- though you’re certain that if you could see his face, you’d find him grinning ear-to-ear. He places a large hand on each side of your hips and gives them a warning squeeze before gently pushing you back down flat against the mattress- the tail bouncing slightly and brushing against the back of your thigh when he does.

You let out a muffled plea as he holds your hips down, sandwiching the vibrator between you and the mattress and effectively forcing you to let the vibrator nestle directly against your clit. The vibrations against your clit were already bordering on too much at first- but like this, the stimulation was downright painful. 

You begged incoherently and bucked your hips, squirming desperately as tears started to gather at the corners of your eyes. When Gaz finally released his hold on your hips- even going so far as to lift them up for you to relive the worst of the stimulation- you sobbed, breathing heavily as your legs twitched in the ropes binding them.

“Aw, does kitty not like that?” Gaz asks- and you can hear the teasing tone and amusement in his voice as he does.

The blindfold has been thoroughly displaced by this point. Because of being on your stomach and the relative mobility you had with your upper body, all of your squirming had been enough for it to get slightly pulled down, just enough for you to turn your head back to look at Gaz and give him a desperate look.

“Kyle!! P-Please! I-I can’t- I can’t! It hurts!” You plead, in what you’re sure is an absolutely debauched state. Your hair is probably a mess, your face is wet from tears, and you’re practically trembling as you beg him.

Gaz smiles softly, and you watch him grab what you recognize as the wand’s remote and click the “down” button a couple of times. He then leans forward, still supporting your hips with one arm as he presses a kiss to your wet cheek.

“Sorry, love. That was mean, I know.” He says, still smiling and gently tugging the blindfold back over your eyes as he speaks.

You whine pitifully- both at the loss of your vision and his words- and go limp against the bed, letting your head fall against the mattress and your hips rely fully on Gaz’s hold. Once you go limp, you get a pat on the bottom and a pillow placed under you. 

“I’ll be right back.” Gaz says softly to you, and as his hands leave your hips, the pillow supports you enough to keep the vibrator just barely touching your clit- as opposed to being pressed fully against it like earlier.

When Gaz returns, you feel the vibrations switched off and his hand takes one of yours and unclenches it from the tight fist you’ve made it. Before you can ask him what he’s doing or even make a noise of confusion, you feel the shape of a familiar object pressed into your palm.

The clicker. You know this system, it’s one of the two you use- and it also means that you’re likely about to be gagged, because the clicker’s meant for whenever you couldn’t speak or reach a part of Gaz’s body to tap on. Three fast clicks to safeword, one finger stuck out to respond “yes” to a question, and two fingers to respond “no”.

Gaz wraps your fingers around the clicker, situating your thumb beside the button so you can feel where it is. He then leans down, smoothing your hair down a bit and adjusting the cat ears before kissing the nape of your neck and asking you a question.

“Can you show me a “stop”?”

You nod softly and move your thumb onto the button, quickly pressing down three times and filling the room with three loud clicks.

“Good girl,” Gaz says, placing a hand at the base of your spine and rubbing it soothingly. “Am I good to continue?”

You nod, sticking out the index finger of the hand not holding the clicker at the same time to reaffirm your response.

When you feel a hand under your chin, you flinch in surprise. Only for Gaz to laugh and place a hand atop your head, petting at your hair softly before guiding your head back towards him.

“It’s okay kitty, I’m just going to gag you.” Gaz says, pushing the rubbery ball lightly against your lips. Not trying to put it in, but just showing you what he’s about to put in your mouth. 

“It’s just the ball gag, okay? You’ve had it before.”

You nod slightly, sticking your tongue out to tentatively lick at the ball in a way that you know will make Gaz smile.

Since he turned off the vibrator, you’ve been steadily calming down from your slightly panicked and very wiggly attempts to escape. With the mean, overstimulating, and relentless assault on your clitoris finished- or at least paused- you’re much more content to sit pretty and sweet for Gaz- so you accept the gag easily. 

“Good girl,” Gaz says as you part your lips and let him push the ball securely into your mouth, even tilting your head forward to give him better access to the back of your head to secure the gag. When he’s finished, you’re rewarded with a gentle pat to your cheek and kiss to the top of your head. 

“We wouldn’t want you making too much noise and bothering the neighbors, now would we kitty?” He says, giving a final scritch to the area right behind your ear before standing up. You feel the bed shift beneath you as he moves, and you turn your head to the other side to follow the sound of his footsteps as he walks around the bed. When he gets to the other side he sits back down onto the bed between your spread legs- and you practically keen around the gag, arching your back and trying to wiggle your butt back towards him in a silent plea to please fill you up.

Your cunt feels achingly empty, and you find yourself wishing for nothing more than for Gaz to fuck you and make you feel nice and full. Your ass is already filled so nicely with the plug- all you need is Gaz’s cock inside of you and you’ll melt.

Because doesn't it just sound perfect? Gaz got to have his fun with the wand earlier- and now your clit’s oversensitive and you can’t stop clenching around nothing.

You're caught off guard when, instead of Gaz’s cock pushing into you, you feel the wand vibrator tied to your thigh start back up. You scrunch your nose as a wave of confusion hits you- only to be quickly forgotten as you feel the mattress shift beneath you once again as Gaz stands up.

The pillow Gaz had placed under you earlier is taken away, and you’re once again left trying to squirm away from the wand vibrator and keep pressure off of it. You let out a pitiful, betrayed whine behind the gag. Tears once again start to wet the blindfold over your eyes as you desperately try to squirm- looking over at where you think and hope Gaz is and giving him the most betrayed and pleading look you can despite the gag and blindfold. But you don’t get the mercy you were hoping for. Instead, you get a hand on your lower back- not quite pushing you down like before, but almost warning you- and a rare stern tone from Gaz.

“You know what to do if you need it to stop.”

You nod and choke on a sob, continuing to squirm and let desperate, pitiful noises leak through the gag as the toy’s vibrations wrack through your body. A particularly loud yelp spills out of you as Gaz pushes two fingers into your drenched pussy and presses down, right where he knows you’re the most sensitive. The pressure from his fingers forces you to choose between keeping your hips up and pushing against his fingers, or lowering them and letting the vibrator be pressed against your clit again. You're caught between two different sources of “too much”, and left with stuttering hips, jerky movements, and shaky breaths as you try to find a relief that doesn't exist.

“I’ll be back in a little bit.” Gaz says, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the back of your thigh. 

The heat of embarrassment at your cheeks is quickly overpowered by panic as his words register to you. You nearly bawl as you hear his footsteps start to recede and the bedroom door open, and you know that if not for the gag, you’d be screaming and begging for him to come back. 

You know you can stop it, you know he’s not going to go far away enough to not hear the clicker. He probably hasn’t even left the room- probably standing in the doorway and keeping a close eye on you- but nothing about knowing that makes you feel any better.

You feel a surge of bratty anger bubble up inside you. How dare he just leave you here!? You were being good and everything! You’ve done nothing to warrant this new… mean version of Gaz!

You try to shake the cat ears off your head- hoping that if Gaz comes back to find you’ve dislodged them and maybe your blindfold too, you’ll get a reaction from him- only to nearly scream in frustration when you fail to make them move an inch. At this point, the brush of the tail’s fur against your thighs has simply become an annoyance too, but you can’t move away from it with the ropes keeping you in place.

Your anger doesn't last long. In fact, most of your thinking is out the window after a couple of minutes, because keeping your hips raised starts to hurt- bad. Before long, your thighs and core are shaking from holding yourself up and your back aches from being arched for so long without support. You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, you have to give in.

When you finally collapse flat onto the mattress, you break. Your clit is back to being pushed into the head of the wand vibrator by your weight against the mattress, and soon after, you reach a painful orgasm that leaves you sobbing and shaking.

That’s how you know Gaz never actually left the room, because the second you cum, a strong arm lifts your hips and the vibrator is moved away. Instead, Gaz’s fingers take its place- making gentle circles around your clit and letting you grind down onto his hand, whispering sweet praises to you as you ride out your orgasm on his fingers at your own pace.

The gentleness of Gaz’s touch was enough to have you melting. Supported and safe in his arms- whimpering softly behind your gag as the pain gave way to pleasure.

After your orgasm, your head was left hazy and muddled. Enough so that when Gaz undid the gag and pulled the blindfold up and off of your eyes, you didn’t do much more than whine and try to hide from the too-bright lights of the room.

“Good girl” Gaz muttered somewhere behind you- his fingers working quickly at the knots keeping your arms together as he spoke soft praises to you.

His words sent you somehow higher than you already were, and you were right up on cloud nine from the comforting sound of his voice alone. Even the pain of easing your joints out of the position they had been bound in so long didn’t bother you too much.

Once your arms were free, you reached a hand down in between your legs, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm- although it eventually just became you lazily playing with your oversensitive clit.

Once Gaz finished untying your legs, you found yourself laid on your back and looking up at him, head still hazy, legs still feeling like jelly, and still shamelessly toying with your clit. Gaz himself was still fully clothed- wearing a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved button-up. While usually, being the only one naked might make you squirm in shyness and embarrassment, right now, it only served to comfort you. Being completely bare, laid out, and wrecked for Gaz made you feel… happy. Fuzzy and warm, all that good stuff. Plus, how could you be embarrassed when he was looking down at you with such a loving smile on his face… even if it quickly turned bemused as his eyes followed your arm to the space between your legs.

“You're still going, love? I figured you’d be too sensitive to be up for anything after this.” Gaz said, reaching his hand down to spread your lips to see your swollen clit.

You nod, wincing at a particularly harsh circle of the bud by your hand. You were too sensitive to get off like this- but you also weren't going to stop. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and let him take care of you, but you were pulled away from that warm, fuzzy feeling you usually got at the end of a scene by the lingering aching of your cunt. Sure, you came- but the fact that you never had anything besides a few fingers inside of you (which didn’t even count, they were only there for a few seconds) meant that, even though your clit was over-abused, the rest of you was still up and ready for round two.

“You shouldn’t touch yourself if it’s hurting like that.” Gaz says, frowning at your pained expression and gently starting to pull your hand away from yourself.

You whine, throwing your head back and furiously shaking it no- nearly dislodging the cat ears that were still on your head. Gaz sighs and smiles at your display, leaning down to kiss you before trying to sit back up, only for you to wrap your arms tightly around his neck and trap him in a hug. He only laughs in response, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you up with him and into his lap.

“Tell me what you need, Love. A bath? Food? Sleep?”

You shake your head no to all of his questions. At the moment, all you really want is for him to make the ache in your pussy go for you in a way that doesn't involve your oversensitive clit. Perched on Gaz’s lap, your arms are too busy holding onto him to continue to jerk yourself off, so instead you settle for grinding down on the straining bulge of his cock to try to get your point across. 

Gaz groans when you grind against him through his jeans, his arm tightening around you as he hisses a curse under his breath. “Fuck- okay, I get it.” He says, reaching a hand down to your clit.

You immediately jerk away, shaking your head no hurriedly. Gaz freezes, looking at you with confusion until realization hits him.

“Oh, is it too sensitive there?” He asks, smiling when you nod and give him a squeeze. “Guess that would be my fault, Love. It’s only right that I help you with that, hm?” He adds, a self-satisfied tone creeping into his voice.

You resist the urge to slap at his back or call him cheeky. It’s quickly forgotten anyways, because when Gaz reaches down to undo his pants and push his boxers down, you’re treatedto the lovely sight of his straining cock against your stomach- a bead of precome smearing over your skin as he moves his hand to your slick folds and presses two fingers into you.

“Bloody hell, you’re soaked.” Gaz grits through clenched teeth, his cock twitching against your stomach as you clench down on his fingers and grind down on them. All the joking and teasing of just a few seconds ago is long forgotten, and Gaz is all seriousness and barely kept in check need.

It doesn't take much more than a few needy whines to convince Gaz to replace his fingers with his cock, and before you know it, you’re being lifted by the hips and lowered onto his length. He slips into you with barely a stretch, and it’s absolute bliss. The second he’s fully inside of you, you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, letting your eyes fall closed and your head sink back into that floaty headspace. Now that you’ve gotten this far, you know Gaz will take care of you. It was just a matter of communicating what you needed at a time when words- let alone sentences weren’t coming easy.

He starts by taking you by the waist, holding you steady as he rolls his hips beneath you. His cock rubs against your inner walls perfectly, and the slow and gentle start has you moaning happily at the warm, steady pleasure, and it’s not long before you’re (trying, it’s a bit difficult in your position) to move your hips in sync.

“F-Fuck.” Gaz groans into your ear. “You’re so wet- you’re drenching me, love."

You moan, clinging to him tighter as he lays you down on your back and tries to slide his hands out from under you and sit up.

“Love, you’ve got to let go of me if you want me to fuck you properly, okay?” He says, breathing heavy beside you as he runs his hand lovingly through your hair.

You nod shakily, letting your hands fall to your sides and your legs loosen around his hips. As soon as you do, Gaz sits up and loops his arms under your knees, bending you nearly in half and lifting your hips just enough for him to get a good angle as he starts fucking into you.

You let out a small squeak and grab onto Gaz’s arms to steady yourself at the first thrust, startled by the sheer strength behind the movement. But your tense caution quickly falls away as his cock starts bullying into your sensitive spots repeatedly.

You reach down with your hand, very lightly touching your still sensitive clit just enough to help get you along to an eventual orgasm. Just as you feel it on the crest of beginning to build, Gaz hikes your legs up higher, leaning forward and nearly getting your knees to touch your ears.

“Fuck, Love. You know I wasn’t even planning on fucking you tonight, hm? I figured you’d be too sensitive for that after what I put you through- and I was more than happy with the fuckin’ years of material to jerk off to after watching you tonight.” He growled, hunched over you and keeping you pinned in your folded position with his weight as he fucks into you.

Your orgasm crests like that, as Gaz’s hips smack against your ass and his cock pounds into you. Each drag of his length in and out feels better than the last, and you’re sure you’re letting out lewd noises you should be embarrassed about, but you don’t care, because all you can do is ride out your orgasm and trust Gaz to take care of you afterwards.

This time, Gaz’s attempts at giving you aftercare are greeted warmly. Because once Gaz’s thrusts stutter and his cum spurts into you, you’re left happy and sated. Sore and exhausted, yes, but successfully tired out enough that you’re content to curl up in Gaz’s arms and float in your headspace until the pull of sleep becomes too much.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist