#you know everything is bad when the only thing keeping you going is

[loveinhawkins]

a cherished headcanon I keep coming back to is that Eddie is very much invested in the school basketball team right up until the graduating class of ‘85 leaves. By an incredible series of mental gymnastics, he tries to convince himself that this has nothing to do with Steve Harrington’s presence on the team.

(And maybe Eddie avoiding the championship game of ‘86 in the near future will have more to do with Jason Carver being on the team, but that’s a sadder story for another time.)

The thing Eddie can easily admit he loves about the bigger games is the fleeting anonymity: while he’s got notoriety in Hawkins High, as soon as there’s a rival school involved he can blend into the crowd for a couple hours, lost in the roar of support.

It’s nearing the end of just such a tournament game when the ball accidentally goes flying into the crowd. Eddie’s reflexes kick in and he manages to catch it before it can take out the back row of the marching band.

The clock’s been stopped for a timeout—a kid on the rival team is injured—so more eyes are drawn to Eddie than normal as they find where the ball ended up. He feels acutely like a spotlight’s on him—holds the ball to his chest almost like he’s a part of the game himself.

A whistle cuts across the court. Steve Harrington.

He’s looking right at Eddie, raising his hands for the ball.

He has more than enough time to say something, some jeer that would well and truly break the spell of anonymity. But Eddie knows underneath the knee jerk worry that it’s not Steve’s style; it’s more the kind of thing Billy Hargrove and his ilk would do, and he’d thankfully been benched at halftime.

Eddie inhales then throws the ball, praying that he doesn’t end up smacking Steve in the face.

He doesn’t, thank God; Steve catches the ball smoothly, manages a thumbs up in thanks before the spotlight shifts back onto the game.

Eddie quietly sighs in relief, loses himself in cheering again.

They don’t win, but it’s still a good game. It’s like Eddie’s reasoning for campaigns: not everything needs to be an all-out victory for it to be entertaining.

The parking lot is a nightmare so he contents himself with waiting it out by his van while the worst of the crowds clear. It’s only when he hears a car door opening and closing nearby that he realises Steve is parked right next to him. Of course, of course he—

“Good catch back there, Munson,” Steve says, tossing his gym bag into his car. He notices something on one of the seats—Eddie can’t tell what it is, but he hears Steve mutter under his breath in benign exasperation, something about, “Dickheads, I keep telling them not to…”

“Yeah, thanks. All my years of training finally paid off.”

Steve makes a face at the build up of cars, chatting parents leaning out of their windows. “You could’ve been on the sub-team.”

“Kinda resent that you don’t think I’m star player material, Harrington.”

There’s the beginnings of a grin on Steve’s face. He has no right looking that smug for someone who’s just lost a game, Eddie thinks.

“Dude, I can hear you. You’re loud.”

Eddie wills his face not to flush. “You’ve got no proof.”

“Nah, just firsthand experience.”

“What, do you have ears like a bat?”

“Nope. Don’t need that to pick you out.” Steve chuckles to himself as he gets in the car, sits side-on to face Eddie as he speaks. “You’re worse than Tammy Thompson’s singing.”

“Uncalled for,” Eddie says, firmly locking away the part of his brain that’s screaming in embarrassment, because if he’s unable to fire off a comeback, he’ll actually never recover; he might as well go and tell Higgins that next year is already a wash, because he has to go and live in the woods—

“Hey, c’mon Munson, I didn’t say it was bad.”

“You implied it,” Eddie says, totally overselling the entire thing, like he’s been greviously wounded.

It works; Steve laughs, shakes his head.

“I didn’t,” he insists as he reverses out of his space. “I just meant it’s… distinctive.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

“That’s your whole shtick, man, don’t act like that wasn’t a compliment.”

“Sure. Eddie ‘Distinctive’ Munson, that’s me.”

And post-game sentiment must be in the air, because as Steve leaves the parking lot, he calls out the car window, bright and teasing, “Hey, maybe I’ll miss the cheering!”

But Eddie can’t be sure. Unlike Steve, he might be mishearing things.

[simpjaes]

requested by: anon enemies to lovers, forced to sleep in the same bed [room] trope. wc: 1.3k tags: not rly enemies to lovers, more like enemies to enemies that fuck

Enemies to lovers Jay learning that this stupid fucking trip forces the two of you to interact. That alone is enough to piss him off and activate the petty part of his brain.

Enemies. That's a fucking fact.

Imagine how he felt when he learned his cousin is dating you and bringing you to the fucking family trip? Trust, he did just about everything to prevent it. Including sending you hateful messages, semi-threatening that if you showed up he would absolutely piss in your cereal.

Well, you showed up anyway. And unfortunately, no one bought cereal for the kitchen so it looks like he needs to find a different method of making you miserable.

What's even more unfortunate? His cousin has no idea that he hates you. And why does he hate you? Well, given that you rejected him all those years ago for prom in a hella humiliating way....does he really need to explain?

For years he was made fun of for it, and you laughed with everyone at him. Not with him, at him.

Fucking bitch. That's what you are.

And you continue to be that bitch this whole time too. Knowing he had a thing for you, unsure of if he still does but still acting like he does.You don't need to know that he'd definitely still hit that shit. In more ways than one. Across the head seems more appropriate at this point though.

"He needs to leave early." Jay's mother explains to him in a semi-whisper. "Guess the sea-food got to him."

Jay silently gives himself a high-five at the idea that you'd leave with your boyfriend, his cousin.Unfortunately, you don't. In fact, you over-stay your welcome solely because your boyfriend's family loves you so much and practically begged you to stay.

At least Jay has his own room, right? WRONG. Oh, his demise hits him in the chest that very next morning, learning that his bitch-ass parents replaced his cousin's room with a different family member. Apparently they had wanted to come but all the spots in the house were filled up.

Now, they're on their way and you're moving your shit to the living room.

"Jay, why don't you let her have your room? It's only polite."

"Fuck that" is what Jay would say if it weren't for his father looming with a death glare.

"No, no!" You gleefully cut in. "If he's okay with just sharing the room, I'll be okay!" He rolls his eyes. Just because there's a pull out couch in the room doesn't fucking mean he should have to share it. With you no less. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ Did you do that on purpose? Maybe.

Do you love your boyfriend with your whole heart? Not really.

What most people aren't aware of in this family is, well, your boyfriend isn't exactly the best person to be involved with. Oh, he left because he's feeling sick? No he didn't, you saw that text on his phone. Despite you loving his family, and his family loving you, neither of you really love each other these days. Additionally, neither of you really have the heart to break up due to the benefits you both get simply for holding the title of boyfriend/girlfriend.

So, you trying to pull one on Jay both before and after your boyfriend saw himself out the door feigning sick? Definitely on purpose. After all, if you and your boyfriend are past the point of even trying to make intimacy work, it's not so bad that you both find it elsewhere.

Kind of like a mutual relationship where's you're not dating except for when the family comes together and the two of you pretend that love hasn't fallen through the floor.

Imagine Jay's face when he found out, deep into the night where it's silent save for the rain pattering against the window.

"I'm not actually dating him, you know?" You blurt out of the silence, wanting to push somehow for Jay to admit that he still wants you. If anything, to boost your own confidence and force him to abandon whatever respect he has for his cousin to keep it under wraps. "He left to go fuck his actual girlfriend."

"Okay?" Jay huffs out, pretending he doesn't care but actually loving the juicy hidden secret. "What does that have to do with me?" "Well, Jay Jay-" You smile in the darkness, cuddling close against the pillow and lending a small chuckle at the way he's situated himself on the pull-out bed. "It has everything to do with you if you want to fuck me."

You hear him inhale at your words before breathing out in a shaking breath.

"You are so fucking full of yourself." He starts, lifting up so fast into a sitting position that he nearly feels lightheaded. "After the way you humiliated me? You think I want to fuck you now?!" You shush him quickly, wanting so badly to mock his inability of volume control. Which...that could be fun.

"Please, you've wanted to fuck me since you learned what fucking even was."

Fair, Jay thinks, as he narrows his eyes at your barely-visible figure in his bed.

"You're being ridiculous. I wouldn't stoop so low." He argues back, voice a bit weaker, like it's breaking. Then he flops back down onto the pull-out, ignoring the uncomfortable creaking of the bed.

"Relax. I'm just trying to get laid here, it's not like we have to date or anything."

As if that's not what Jay has wanted since fucking prom?! Casual sex?! With you? "You're kind of a whore, you know that?" Jay spits, aggressively rolling over to face the wall, not at all to hide the fact that he's absolutely about to shove his hands down his pants.

"Do you want me to be?" You encourage him to think like your boyfriend used to. "Want me to apologize for the way I treated you?" He remains silent, squeezing his eyes shut and willing for all of this to just be a dream, though he'd be fucking pissed if it actually was. "Don't you want to punish me for it?" You continue, softening your voice now, lifting yourself on the bed and crawling to the edge of it. "Make me say sorry? Make me regret the day I never let you do it in the first place?" "Fuck off." Jay tries to control himself. The need to absolutely fuck you into the mattress, shut that pretty mouth up? It's intense right now. "Stop trying to come onto me." And when you do, he's actually disappointed. He hears the way you crawl back into position and roll over in silence. The room stays quiet for a little while, but he can't sleep now. Arguably, you can't either. "You're so fucking annoying." Jay huffs, rolling off the pull-out and instantly getting on the bed with you, hovering over you, letting you feel how hard you've managed to get him. "If you're able to actually shut the fuck up, take your shorts off and roll over." You hum, delighted by his weak mind state. Loving that in a way, he admits it. Finally, he admits it. All those narrow-eyed stares at you weren't just from hate. He definitely wanted you, and he still does. You do as you're told with a mocking laugh, shoving your shorts down your thighs and rolling over for him. He makes quick work, already slapping his length against your ass cheeks before instantly pressing his tip into you with a pathetic, whiny little groan.

"Thought you'd be rougher." You smile against the pillow, only to feel his hand in your hair. He tugs you back with an uncomfortable arch now cramping at your back. "Thought you wanted to make me sorry.”

“Can you please shut the fuck up?” Jay groans, shoving his full and thick cock straight into you with a solid thrust. “Hm?”

Well, now you can. Because oh my god? He’s been this big the whole time? You could’ve been bouncing on this countless times already and you’re only now feeling how good it is? Crazy mistake on your part.

You couldn't mock him back if you tried right now, with the way he releases your hair only to push your head into the pillow, fucking into you so aggressively that you can barely even breathe. He really is making you sorry.

[stars-for-circe]

Summertide

Tags / cw: headcannons, neighbour!abby, suggestive, masturbation, gymrat!abby (kinda)

A/n: this is so bad because I rushed it but be grateful I’m feeding u guys at all tbh <3

Neighbour!Abby who woke up one day to the sound of a truck backing up the driveway to the house next to her, and decides to go check out what’s happening. She walks out barefoot, in only grey sweatpants and some wifebeater loose enough that - from the side - you’d be teased ever so slightly by the sight of her bare chest.

And, as she tucks the loose hairs that fell out of her messy braid behind her ear, and shields her eyes from that hot summer sun - already much too bright for 7 in the morning - she’d realise her guess to be correct, with two trucks parked outside the next door house, and you carrying the boxes inside. And ever since then, it would only be a matter of who caught whose eyes first.

First, it would be you, watching her from the kitchen window as Abby went to get the mail, finally realising how fucking hot your new neighbour was, and realising just how many of her windows lined up with yours.

Later that night, after you’d watch the bathroom window light up and get foggy, you wait for the perfect time and oh-so-conveniently knock on her door the moment the shower stops running, only to be met by Abby in shorts and a damp shirt, towel around her neck and wet hair dripping down her neck.

She’d raise a brow, trying to remain calm with the fact that her smoking hot neighbour was at her doorstep, fled her muscles ever so slightly (which you definitely noticed), and wait for you to talk first. A very small ‘hi’ would come from your mouth, followed by a pause before she reciprocates.

“I’m uh, your new neighbour, on the right.” You’d start awkwardly, trying to somehow keep the conversation going as long as humanly possible

“I know - saw you unpacking the other day.” A cheeky grin would spread across her face, and you really couldn’t help it when you saw her think she has the upper hand here-

“Oh, so you’ve been watching me?”

That grin on her face would disappear, replaced with a sputter and surprised blink, as yours now shows the expression she had before. And as you sway and turn around to head back to your house, letting that silky summer dress float around your hips enough for a good show, it seems the message is clear. A clear challenge between you both - who could crack first?

And after a week, it feels like it may be Abby, with how you keep your windows open, summer breeze blowing the curtains softly as she gets a view of your house and everything you do in it. From doing the dishes, sitting at your vanity, from doing your skincare and even changing - you make sure she sees it.

But on a particularly hot day, when Abby decides not even the fans around her house would help cool her down, when the garage it just too stuffy- you think it may be you, instead.

The first thing that would raise your attention would be the sound of her garage door opening, which makes you raise your head from the book your reading, and sit up against your headboard to see what she’s up to. Abby doesn’t own a car - you know this. So why would she use the garage at all?

You’re quick to realise - with a sharp intake of a breath - that you were entirely wrong in the garage serving no purpose. Because as the door opens, you find Abby dead centre in the space, working out. In sweats and a black wifebeater, this time, as she benches and lifts and hip thrusts so much more than you weigh, and so effortlessly, too.

You can feel yourself getting wet, as you squirm in your cross legged position. As you watch her take deep breaths as droplets of sweat roll down her muscles and as she throws around the weights like they’re nothing. God, you’d almost get lost in the sight, and let her win, if it wasn’t for the small smirk she’d adorn on her face as she looks your way and winks. She fucking knew you were watching.

You scoff, and promptly flip her off, before closing your window and drawing your curtains. But, as a secret kept tightly to yourself, she really did win.

Because you touch yourself that night, to the memories of earlier that day. Of Abby. Leaning against your headboard again, reminiscent of how it was that hot afternoon, on top your sheets and legs spread. You thank god for the fact that you don’t have roommates anymore, as you whine and moan her name in tandem with your fingers, going in and out - a soft, wet clicking noise following each thrust.

And as you grind your clit into your palm, watching your hand disappear beneath the fabric of your sundress, you make sure to spread your legs even wider and throw your head back as you cum. Because there is one small fact about your window. During the day, no one can see in, but during the night - with your lights on - everything is visible.

So, as Abby watches you from her bedroom, hand shoved under her boxers as she writhes and gasps along with you - as she knows your putting on a good show for her to lose, but can’t even bring herself to care at this point - she only really thinks about one (two) things: fucking you blind tomorrow, and calling for a draw.

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

[timewillpasssoon]

hiii can you write a joost x female reader angst? they argue, he yells/says some mean stuff but it ends in fluff? 🫶

HOW COULD YOU?

pairing . Joost Klein x fem!reader

content . angst, the dutch in this is from google translate so if its bad lmk, mentions of yelling, insults, stress, alcohol, eurovision disqualification, fluff at the end

summary . when joost urges you to leave the house on a cold night, he starts to regret not opening up to you in the first place.

word count . 1.2k words , 6.5k characters

author's note . quick question, are y'all interested in nsfw? just wondering, if so send some ask.

You and Joost stood in the middle of the living room, tension crackling in the air, geting thicker and thicker as time passes by. His words cut through you like a knife, each one sharper than the last. For the past hour you've been trying to get Joost to eat and open up.. He would turn away and say he's not hungry. He'll say he's not hurting. He lies through his teeth, he was hungry and in pain, desperate need of help. So why doesn't he want it You? You tried to get him to open up to you, but you just couldn't. Everytime an attempt was made, he would slightly raise his voice.

Then finally, he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. Your eyes welled up with tears as you tried to hold back your own anger. "I'm your girlfriend, liefde! I'm here when you need someone to lean on!" You wanted to scream it out, yet it came out as a whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. He scoffed, his anger still beneath the surface.

"Well I don't need you! I am perfectly fine, there is nothing we need to talk about!"

"Can you atleast eat!?"

"For crying out loud I'm not hungry! Just stop being such a bitch."

The argument escalated, each word a dagger aimed at your heart. Joost's voice echoed off the walls, the last word hanging on your brain.

"You just don't get it, do you?" You looked at him in the eyes, rage and empathy were the only two things you could feel. "You clearly are in pain because of the disqualification! Just talk to me- we've been dating for 2 years, for crying out loud! Yet you still can't tell me your problems? Wat een man ben jij." (What a man you are.)

"You can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not!" Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to find what words to say.

"I thought we could work through this together." You uttered out, your voice trembling. Joost shook his head. "I don't know if we can," he admitted. He looked down, slowly then turning to the front door. "You should go."

You shake your head, words can't come out your mouth. Your tongue is tied together and you don't know if you can untie it. "Joost- please."

"I said get out. Ik wil je niet zien." (I don't want to see you.)

Your heart was throbbing so fast it felt louder than him,.Joost is staring at the front door then turns to you, red puffy eyes with baby tears coming out from both eyes. His blonde hair was a mess. It was covering most of his eyes but you can still see the pain in them.

"Prima." (Fine.) You take big steps yet they feel like your still miles away from your destination. You go to open the front door, "I hope you come to your senses."

Those were the last words he heard from you. Before you walked out. It's been two hours since you left his house...

and frankly, he's scared. He kicked you out in the middle of the night. It was eight pm when he demanded you to leave and with each second goes by, its past ten.

He calls you, he leaves voicemails, texts messages.

Still nothing. Checked social media and there was still nada.

God he felt awful, the worst boyfriend in the world. All of this happened because he didn't want to cry in your arms. He really did want to let loose, reveal that everything is not okay.

Yet he couldn't.

He didn't want to burden you with his problems anymore. Joost felt like he had too much baggage no one wanted to hear. He thought that everyone wants his happy-go-lucky side. You jusy wanted his true self. The Joost that is willing to tell you his feelings.

He decided to call one of your friends that happened to live by the neighborhood.

"Hello?"

"Is reader with you?"

The other line was quite crispy, Joost can hear a tv in the background, sounded like laughter in the back, maybe a comedy.

"No, why? Is everything alright?"

Joost sighed, fidgeting with a stand of hair. "No, me and her got into a fight and I made her leave- I haven't heard from her!" He exclaimed.

"Woah, woah, deep breaths." The friend on the line said, "Don't you have her location? Check if she's near the area, I'll stay on the line while you do that."

Joost quickly checked his phone to see if you turned off your location. You didn't, you forgot to. "She's in the nearest bar!" The friend hummed. "Go to her, she only drinks when she's stressed the hell out."

"Thank you so much," Joost happened to be crying again, quickly grabbing his keys and jacket. "No problem, get get her." The friend hung up on him as he raced to your location, being around eight minutes away if he ran the whole way.

He bolted as fast as he could, petrified about your safety. Where if you're black out drunk or not.

Pacing to the bar, precious seconds going by, he finally made it. it was one of the least popular bars near so there wasn't any hassle to get in. As he walked inside, he saw a women with the same color hair as you. Your head down on the table with around two shot glasses, there was three more earlier, the bartender just took them.

He sped-walked towards you, careful and still just incase you were still mad at him. He tapped you on your shoulder, but you didn't raise your head up.

"Ik heb een vriendje." (I have a boyfriend.) Was all you said. "I know." Joost calmly answered, his accent triggered you to lift your head up.

"Joost?" He nodded as he sat down next to you, his hand reaching for yours. You didn't push away his hand, as much as you wanted to, you knew he was in pain.

"Why are you here?" You softly say. You'll like to say you ignored him but you couldn't. You were certainly mad at him, but he had his reasons of sheltering himself away. So you listened instead of scolding.

"Reader, I'm so sorry- I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I feel like I just have too much going on for you to care." You felt destroyed at the thought of Joost think you don't care for him. Joost was rubbing circles on your palms.

He continued, "Can we go home, I would rather we talk there."

You smile at the chance of him opening up. You immediately say yes, standing up to leave. All your drinks were already paid for.

As the quiet, yet comfortable, walk back home he held you tight. Clinging onto your left arm for dear life. He still felt guilty for leaving you.

All alone in the streets. You told him it wasn't a big deal, that you could protect yourself. Yet the feeling guilt was still there, on his tongue. The taste was horrid.

Joost unlocked the door, letting you step inside first before closing the door behind him. That's where you engulfed him in a huge hug. Tears coming back for the fourth time.

That night ended with a deep conversation, with cuddles on the couch along with some ice cream half way eaten.

"I appreciate you having the courage to tell me all this."

You muttered your sentence out, about to knock out cold, your body longed for sleep but you kept awake for a bit while.

"I should thank you."

He smiled, tugging you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath breezing though the right side of your neck.

The warmth of each other's bodies made you two warm. You still weren't ready to give up on him.

You'll never give up on him.

LETSGOO FINISHED THIS IN 3 HOURS!! part 2 of let me think... is in the works don't worry, i have two other requests on the way as well.

im okay with nsfw requests, even if its a bit spicy or all the way. check out my other account!!

[willowser]

i keep thinking about touya going to the same spot he and his ex do drop off, every two weeks. it's outside some little bakery that he thinks is too expensive—and he has a sneaking suspicion that's why his baby mama chose the place—but he always buys his little bug something regardless. a pink pastry with lots of sprinkles and frosting, in the shape of a unicorn or something or other.

and you always come with him. have been for a few years now and you make friendly small talk with his ex and when his daughter jumps into your arms, you swing her around and you both giggle to each other, foreheads pressed together, eyelashes blinking close enough to make his heart swell.

and the first time you're not there, his daughter doesn't wait a minute after jumping out of her mom's car to frown up at him and ask, "where's bub?"

and truthfully, touya's been dreading this moment since he'd pissed you off enough to have you storming out of his apartment, a few days ago. still doesn't know what to tell her, how to explain that he's never loved someone the way he loves you and yet he's sabotaging everything anyway.

"bub is at bub's house."

her light little eyebrows pull down ever further, until a crease forms between them, and then she even takes another look behind him in case he's joking. "why?"

touya grinds his gum between his teeth and tells himself it's better than a cigarette. "she just is."

his ex doesn't say anything, thank god, but he can feel the once over she gives him. he looks like shit and he knows it, because he's aggravated and disappointed in himself, and all the things he'd normally use to deal with those feelings would break his sobriety. so he's only got some spearmint gum.

his daughter doesn't say anything else until they're in their seats on the train, her by the window, drawing shapes in the fog her breath makes. they go through a tunnel and the light from the day disappears and she loses interest, turning to stare up at touya as he closes his eyes and leans his head back as far as it can go.

"are you and bub mad at each other?"

touya opens his eyes, but stares only at the ceiling of the train. all he can see is the hurt on your face when he'd yelled at you, the anger that he drew out, like a poison. "it's—" one thing he tries not to do to his kid, however, is lie. "somethin' like that."

she shuffles around in her seat until she's facing him fully, leaning her head against the back of it as she blinks her big, blue eyes up at him. "did she be mean to you?"

"no."

"did you be mean to her?"

it seems so complicated, when touya thinks about it. why he'd started a fight with you, where his insecurity comes from, why he wants you so bad but is too afraid to admit it out loud—but then his kid makes it seem so easy. so silly.

touya shuffles until he's facing her, too, and even scoots down in his chair so they're eye-level, almost like whispering school girls at a slumber party. "yeah," he admits. "i was kinda mean to her."

"but why?"

touya frowns and still doesn't know what to say. the city skyline opens up behind her, out in the distance, and he watches the setting sun over the buildings until it starts to make him sick. "you remember when you had that scooter, and you fell and scraped your knee?" she nods. "and then you didn't want to ride it anymore because you were afraid you'd do it again? it's...like that."

not a single look of understanding comes across her face.

touya sighs and scoots back upright, bending to dig his phone from his pocket. "you wanna talk to her?"

"yeah!"

he pulls up your contact in his phone—just your name and all the hearts removed, because he's petty like that—but instead of staring at it like he has been for days—he finally calls. it wouldn't surprise him if you didn't answer, but he gnaws his lip as it rings, and it seems like he and his little girl both hold their breath.

"hello?"

when he hands off the phone to his daughter, she happily snatches it up, turning on her knees to look out the window as she grins. "hi bub!"

and touya still doesn't know what to say or how he'll fix it, but he finds some comfort—some of the words—when he hears the tone in your voice change, all sing-song and adoring. "hi, my angel!"

[drudyslut]

— summary: kook princess. kook prince. perfect match, right? wrong. you hated rafe cameron and everything he stood for. and he hated you. so when your fathers spring it on the two of you that they’d arranged for the two of you to be married, both of your worlds are flipped upside down.

— CW: strong language, forced/arranged marriage, kissing, slight sexual tension, alcohol consumption.

— note: so sorry for how long this has taken me. i’m still unsure how i feel about it but i refuse to scrap it again. feedback is very appreciated! likes, comments, reblogs!

prev parts: one, two

2 days later…

Y/N

It’s been two days since the encounter with Rafe at the Country Club, and it’s all I’ve thought about. He was drunk, that’s what I’ve been telling myself. He was drunk, and he didn’t actually mean any of the shit he’d said to me. Rafe hated me, just as much if not more, as I hated him.

I needed to shove his face, and the way he looked at me that night, down. I needed to get my head on straight, because tonight… Tonight I had to glue myself to his side and pretend to be happy. Pretend that I was madly in love with my future husband, pretend we didn’t despise one another.

But as much as I tried, I couldn’t. I couldn’t get the look of pure lust he’d had on his face that night out of my head. I couldn’t get the way his hands grabbed at my body out of my head. I couldn’t get the things he’d said out of my head. He was stuck there… Almost like he’d wanted to insert himself deep into my mind and make me trip over myself, wondering, waiting… Did he mean what he said?

I squeeze my eyes shut, hearing his low and raspy voice at the back of my mind.

“Baby, you’re going to be crawling on your hands and knees begging for me to touch you. To kiss you. To please you. You can act like you hate me now, Lord knows I can’t stand you. But even I can admit, you’re fucking gorgeous. And I know you find me somewhat attractive.”

Fuck. What is he doing to me? He is attractive, but I’d never admit that out loud. He’s a fucking douche, and he knows that. I just wish this could be easy, I wish I was being forced to marry someone I somewhat like… That would make this a whole lot easier, but no.. Of course my parents would set this shit up with the Cameron’s. My dad and Ward have only been friends for as long as I can remember.

Fuck them, and fuck Rafe. I-

A knock sounding on my bedroom door rips me from my thoughts, and I sit up fully on my bed, crossing my legs and saying, “Come in.”

My door is pushed open, and I’m met by my mother’s eyes.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been locked up here all day, are you okay?”

I fight the scoff that wants to come out, not in the mood to fight with my parents today. Instead, I put on a fake smile and say, “Yeah. I’m fine, just trying to keep my energy up for tonight s’all.”

My mother makes her way to the end of my bed, sitting down and placing a soft hand on my leg. I sigh, knowing this is about to be some long lecture I wasn’t in the mood for.

“Sweetheart, I know how you feel about Rafe.. But this is a good thing, okay? I’m sure the two of you can learn to get along, he’s not that bad of a person is he?”

I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to think of what to say, but my mind fails to think of anything. She has a point. He isn’t that bad. He’s just had a shitty life — Well.. To an extent.

His father was known to be a major ass. I’d personally witnessed the verbal beatings he’d given his son, not to mention the few times I’d seen Ward actually lay hands on him. Rafe didn’t know what it was like to be loved and in turn, didn’t know how to love. Maybe things would be different had his mother not passed when he was only eleven, maybe she would have loved him, and taught him how to love. But we’d never know the answer to that.

“Honey? You still with me?”

I lift my head, finding my mother’s worry filled eyes once more.

I nod my head, “Yeah sorry, mom. I’m just tired. How long do I have until the engagement party? I think I might take a nap.”

Standing from my bed, my mom makes her way to my bedroom door, opening it but stopping to answer my question. “You have about three hours, guests will begin arriving in two. Take you an hour nap, then get ready. Your dress is on the back of your bedroom door. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She closes the door softly behind her, and I throw myself back into my pillows, letting out a deep breath. I close my eyes, hoping I can take a nap and not dream about Rafe and his fucking hands on me, I don’t want him to have this power over me, but fuck if he hasn’t burrowed his way into my head.

-

RAFE

“Rafe, we’re leaving here in twenty minutes!”

I roll my eyes, looking myself over in my bathroom mirror once more and straightening my tie. I just have to get through tonight, and then I don’t have to deal with her again for another few weeks. I could do this.

She’d been on my mind for the last two days though… That night at the Country Club, and how good she’d looked, how her voice sounded. Fuck, how could I have never noticed her like that before? How could I have always overlooked her?

She was fucking beautiful, and fuck her attitude, and the way she looked when she was mad… It had my cock straining for days. I hated her though, and nothing would change that. Not even good pussy would change the fact that I fucking hated her.

I clear my throat, straightening my tie for the millionth time before finally turning away from the bathroom mirror and walking into my bedroom. I make my way over to my nightstand, opening the top drawer and grabbing out the flask I’d had hidden in there.

Quickly unscrewing the cap, I tossed it back, swallowing as much as I could before screwing the top back on and shoving it back into the drawer, closing it. Fuck, I needed to use some mouthwash before I got into a car with my dad. Last thing I need is him bitching me out for drinking before we arrived at the Y/L/N’s house.

After swishing around some mouth wash, i grab my phone, wallet and keys, shoving them all into my pockets before inhaling a deep breath and letting it out slowly. You can do this, Rafe. It’s just the engagement party.. You still have three weeks until you’re officially married off to her.

I make my way down the stairs with one minute to spare, seeing my dad, Rose and two sisters all standing by the front door waiting for me. I meet all of their eyes, one by one taking in the expressions on their faces.

“Let’s go. Don’t wanna be late right?” I say slowly, pushing past all of them and out the door.

-

We arrive at the Y/L/N’s house within five minutes, their driveway and the sides of the street already filled with cars and the yard all the way into the house filled with people. I swallow nervously, running my hands up and down my dress slacks.

“You okay?” I hear Sarah say from the right of me.

I glance down at her, narrowing my eyes. She never gives a shit about me or how I’m feeling.

“Just peachy, Sare. You don’t have to pretend to give a shit about me.”

She scoffs. “I’m not pretending, Rafe. I couldn’t imagine being in your position, I’m just-”

“Look, I’m fine. Can’t be that bad, right?”

Before she even has the chance to respond, I lean over her, opening the car door and looking at her, my face letting her know to get out of the car. She does just that, exiting the car and smoothing down the front of her baby pink dress.

“If you need anything, you can talk to me. I know we don’t get along, but I am your sister, and I do care.”

It feels like a thousand needles prick at my throat, my eyes stinging from tears wanting to well up, but I don’t let them. Fuck, I need a drink. I nod my head at Sarah, thanking her before climbing out of the Range Rover and slamming the door, slowly making my way toward the front porch steps.

As I enter the house, the sound of music and chatter fills my ears, and I can’t help but wince. I’m used to this sort of environment, lots of people, music, the works. But it’s always people my age, and we’re having fun, not celebrating the engagement of two people who could care less about one another. Every last person here is oblivious to the fact that Y/N and I do not want to be married, fucking ignorant bliss.

I make my way into the kitchen, finding various bottles of liquor on the counter tops. I settle for a bottle of Whiskey, grabbing a small glass from the counter and pouring two fingers, tossing it back and pouring another.

“Do not make an ass of yourself tonight, son. I swear to God if you embarrass our families..”

I roll my eyes, slowly turning to face my father who stands so close to my back I can feel his breath on my neck.

“Don’t worry, dad. I won’t embarrass us. I just need a drink or two so I can get through this shit fest.”

My dad’s eyes narrow, but he keeps his mouth shut, turning and storming off into the house, probably in search of Y/N’s father. Good, hopefully Mr. Y/L/N keeps him off my ass tonight.

I toss back the second drink, placing the glass into the sink before shoving my hands into my pockets and slowly working my way through the crowd of people. A lot of the older men and women stop me, shaking my hand and congratulating me. I guess some people already know why they’re here tonight, shocker.

I approach the foyer of the house, scanning the length of the room when my eyes land on her. She looks absolutely beautiful tonight, shit. She’s making it really hard to not notice her lately. Why? I’ve been around her since we were kids, grew up together, and I’ve never paid her any attention. Why now? Maybe it’s because I’m being forced to marry her, so she’s been consuming my mind, or maybe it’s because Topper hasn’t shut the fuck up about her the last five days, ranting and raving about how “hot” she is, and how I should enjoy her. Maybe he’s right, and maybe that’s why I’ve been so infatuated with her these last few days.

Without even realizing it, I make my way toward her. My soon to be wife. The soon to be Mrs. Cameron, mother of my children.

“Hey.” I say lowly, my eyes scanning the length of her body in the tight fitting white dress.

She flicks her gaze up to my face, her eyes searching mine.

“Hi.” she responds.

I swear I see a blush cross her face, and I don’t miss the way she shifts back and forth on her feet, her white strappy heels clicking against the tile floors.

“So, we’re supposed to stay glued together tonight, shall we?” I ask, holding my arm out for her to take.

She hesitates for a moment before finally linking her arm with mine. A weird feeling erupts in my chest, and I shake my head, trying to shake the weird feeling.

We begin walking through the crowd of people, all eyes on us as we try and find our parents, knowing they wanted to go ahead and announce the engagement and wedding date so everyone can enjoy the rest of their night mingling and drinking.

Finally finding our parents, we slowly step up the stairs and onto the landing, standing between our parents — Ward and Rose beside me, her parents beside her.

Ward clears his throat, clinking a small fork on the side of his whiskey glass and getting everyone’s attention.

Fuck, there are so many fucking people here.

“Thank you for coming out tonight everyone. We have a very big announcement to make.”

He stops speaking, turning his attention to Mr. Y/L/N and letting him continue.

Y/D/N places a loving hand on his daughter’s shoulder, clearing his throat and speaking. “We have invited you all here tonight to announce the engagement of our two eldest children, Rafe and Y/N. We wanted to throw this party in their honor tonight, to celebrate two people becoming one.”

I discreetly roll my eyes. Two people becoming one my ass, more like two being being forced together so two companies can become one…

“The wedding will be in three weeks. Saturday June fifteenth. We hope to see all our friends and family there.”

The room erupts in gasps and cheers. A fifty-fifty of mixed emotions throughout. I notice Y/N’s hand tighten around my arm, her eyes scanning the room quickly. I take note of a few girls I’d slept with in the past, glaring at her. Fuck. I need to do something, these girls will eat her alive, they’ll know this is all bullshit. I need to try and make it seem real, but I don’t think Y/N is going to like my plan very much.

I slowly unlink our arms, turning her so she’s facing me and I cup her cheeks in my hands. She sucks in a sharp breath, narrowing her eyes on me.

“Trust me, okay?”

Her chest rises and falls quickly, but she squeezes her eyes shut and nods her head.

Without a second thought, I dip my head down and capture her lips with mine. The kiss is slow and soft at first, but I quickly deepen it, shoving my tongue into her mouth and feeling her body tense up underneath my hands.

She kisses me back, her body relaxing and melting into mine as the sound of the hoots and hollers slowly fade. There’s no one but us in this room. Shit, she’s a good kisser.

She finally pushes me back, wiping the corner of her lips with her hand and staring up into my eyes.

“What… What was that for?” she asks.

I glance behind her, seeing Jessie and Caraline rolling their eyes but stomping away. I can’t help but smirk at that, Y/N is the only girl I’ve publicly shown any affection towards, and they all know that.

I shrug. “I was saving you from being eaten alive by the bitches of my past s’all.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, thanks. But I think I can handle a few girls.”

I can’t help but smile at that. She’s strong, she’s tough, and in three weeks, she’s all mine.

“I bet you can, but, you’re welcome.”

Her eyes continue to search mine, her hands shaking at her sides as she continues to stare up at me. God, my cock is painfully hard right now. I just want to take her up to her room and ruin her innocence, but I won’t. I’ll wait until the wedding night, I can wait three more weeks.

“Now, let’s go enjoy this party. It’s gonna be a long night, baby.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @drewstarkeyslut @princessslutt @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @jjsmarijuana @romaescapes @kisses4angel @lovelysturnioloos

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[gracejh08]

Breaking the media

Chapter 6- You're okay now

The days after had been hard yet you had managed to keep yourself under control and almost push the incident in the past. Alexia had advised you took the next few days of however you didn't want to miss training before the first game you weren't promised to play but there was a good chance you were making it to the bench. Like normal training was enjoyable but this time it was different all the girls had to do a weekly check with the physio just to make sure nothing was wrong and everyone was up to standard for the match. You had thought nothing of it as you had made your way into the room and were greeted by the physio "hola y/n" he said as you sat on to the medical bed. You had been here quite a few times so you knew what the protocol was just testing muscle tightness and how well your joints were working.

The first half was going smoothly until he placed his hand on your upper thigh just where the man had a week prior. The memory flashback in your mind as you became panicked and you curled up in ball hiding your face from him hyperventilating. The physio was frozen in what to do he couldn't just leave you but he couldn't console you either so he did the next best thing and went to where the girls were sat waiting for thier appointment "guys i have a slight issue, i was just doing movement checks and when i put my hand on y/ns leg shes gone... i guess panicked im not sure" he said staring at the girls almost blankly. Alexia had heard this and she bolted straight to the room where she found you a curled up ball sobbing. Yet you almost look terrified the air wasn't coming in or out it was stuck making your panic worse than before "hey pequeña, im here its okay can i hold you" she asked walking towards you. Then no response came you were so trapped in your mind it was hard to snap you out of it. Alexia had no clue what to do so she did what she thought best call for ingrid she had her fair share of panic attacks and was sure she knew what to do.

Ingrid had recived the text from alexia and she swiftly moved herself from the arm chair she was sat on to the the physio room. She opened the door and it was exactly what she feared it was the feeling where nothing is going in or out and everything is overstimulating from the feeling of your clothes to just the loose hairs whisping off your neck. She sprung herself into action she knew how to deal with panic attacks but ones caused by something so triggering and from recently she didn't know much about. "Y/n can you look at me" she said while crouching at your level still there was no response it was like you were in your own world one surrounded with thoughts of him and the way his words spat at you the way he stared as though you were an object. She waited a couple seconds and began to repeat her question but still no response came from you only the sound of your laboured breathing. Ingrid was almost lost for anything to do she was completely out of luck and she felt a dash of worry for you as your condition didnt change, therefore it lead to doing the only thing she knew what to do. 'Y/n im going to touch your hand okay" she said reaching her hand out slowly towards you and she placed it on your shaking hands you look down and instead of the expecting reaction of you holding it and breaking out of your thoughts your mind was so clouded with him the thought of someone touching you was almost as bad. "GET AWAY FROM ME....PLEASE" you yelled standing up from the floor and the two girls swiftly followed you to thier feet.

There it was you looked into alexias eyes and the fear in her eyes almost crushed you and you just collapsed into her arms realising what you had done and it wasnt him it was your friend, your teamate who you'd just shouted at. You clung to her as though she was your life line "im sorry im so sorry i wont do it again" you repeated into her shoulder through sobs. Alexia just rubs her hands on your back and through your hair as her and ingrid glance at eachother of almost panic and a sense of relief. You finally calm down and let go of alexia the corner of her jumper drenched in your tears yet she makes no remarks you walk over to ingrid and hig her tightly "im so sorry for shouting at you i didnt mean it i promise" you say burried into her shoulder "its okay love i know you didn't" she says back to you. "However I think you should go home and get some rest" she added pulling out of the hug to see your tear stained face the tear tracks still prominent on your cheeks.

Alexia had excused herself for a minute to compose herself she was so built up with worry over you and the fact you hadn't said anything the past week had really bothered her but you were young and probably trying to put on a brave face for her. "Come on pequeña lets get you some sleep" she said putting her head round the corner of the door. You had made it back home when you had sat on the couch. "Ale can we watch a movie" you asked her "sure whatever you want" she replied joining you on the couch. You played your favourite movie and you didnt mean to but it just sort of happened as the movie progressed, slowly you made your way to alexias side and leant into her "is this okay?" You said in an almost whisper tone "of course pequeña" she said wrapping her arms around you and running her finger nails through your hair. You slowly adjusted into her side and the longer it went you fell asleep on alexias shoulder it felt like home and for alexia it felt like peace knowing you were safe and in arms reach.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Call a Truce

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You and Tim have a rivalry that began when you were rookies. Years later, you continue competing in everything you do, even when you're helping Tim get out of a dangerous situation.

Warnings: Tim gets hurt (tased, cut, broken ribs, goes to the hospital), angst, mentions of robberies, fluff! pretty standard Rookie warnings I think

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“You’re going to pass your rookie exam,” your TO said on your second day of training. “But there’s one thing I need you to do. Score higher than Bradford.”

And, like that, a rivalry was born.

Years after you started competing against Tim Bradford to be the best rookie, your rivalry has only strengthened. Everyone in your station knows about your competitive natures, but to outsiders and visitors, it seems like you and Tim hate one another. There has never been any real animosity, only competition and everything that comes with it.

“We’re riding together today,” Tim says.

You turn quickly, surprised to see him standing beside you. “What?” you ask.

“I just talked to Grey. We’re riding together, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Something to do with the string of robberies, I presume.”

“And he thought you would need help from a competent cop,” you reply with a nod. “I guess I can make time for that.”

“If that’s what you need to hear to actually try for once. I could find the guy on my own faster than you can get out of the shop.”

“We’ll see about that,” you scoff.

“We certainly will. The first one to spot anything gets a point, making contact gets five, and the arresting officer gets fifty. Deal?”

You look at Tim’s hand and wrinkle your nose in faux disgust before you shake. “You’re going down, Bradford.”

“And you’ll break the fall, boot.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Bradford!” Grey yells. “Let’s go! Roll call doesn’t wait for you.”

You smirk as you step backward toward the door. “Such a bad cop, Bradford. Keep your social schedule on your own time.”

“You wish you were part of my social schedule,” he counters.

“At least you’d have one then. When I have fifty-six winning points, maybe I’ll invite you to the celebration.”

Tim rolls his eyes and follows you inside. He can’t remember the last time he did anything with you that wasn’t a competition. You’re both good cops, though, so as long as you get the job done, your work rivalry isn’t hurting anyone.

“What’s it like?” you ask from the passenger seat.

“What’s what like?” Tim replies.

“Being a control freak that still loses.”

“Cute,” Tim mumbles. “At least I didn’t have to wear long sleeves for an extra month like someone I know.”

“Yeah, Lucy didn’t deserve that,” you agree. “You’re just a terrible TO, so you knew she wasn’t ready.”

“Or maybe she picked the wrong cop to idolize,” Tim snaps.

“Tim? Did you just admit that Lucy thinks I’m a better cop than you?” you ask happily. “Because I knew she had good taste, but I wasn’t sure if you knew that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for a suspect instead of obsessing over how people see you?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be driving instead of getting angry because I’m right?”

Tim takes a deep breath and returns his attention to the road. You push his buttons, but he pushes you just as hard. Everything between you is competitive, there’s a deep-seated need to prove that you’re better because of how your TOs treated you in your boot days.

Your phone rings, and you wave Tim off before he can tell you not to answer it.

“Detective Lopez,” you greet, though you say it toward Tim. “How can I help you?”

“Can you come back to the station or are you too busy flirting- I mean competing with Tim?” she asks.

“I can come back. Tim?” you begin.

“Got it,” he interjects softly. He hits his blinker and enters a turn lane to take you back.

“I’ll be there in ten,” you tell Angela.

“Thank you. We got a lead on where the stolen goods may be stashed but we’re shorthanded.”

“No problem.”

Angela ends the call, and you look at the road as you think about the details of the case. Something isn’t adding up. They know plenty about the suspect, but not where he lives or where all of the stolen property ended up. The guy seems homeless.

“Guess she figured out that you’re not going to find anything out here that I can’t find alone,” Tim muses.

“Or she knows that I’ve got a better chance of blowing this case open if you’re not aimlessly dragging me around the city.”

“What’d she say?” Tim asks.

“They found a lead and don’t have enough people to trace it. You can ride alone, as far as they know, so I get to track down tips.”

“I’ll find our guy before you find anything helpful,” Tim declares.

“Yeah, right!” you argue, turning in your seat to face him. “First one to find something that the detectives deem useful wins.”

“Wins what?”

You purse your lips as you think. There are not many rewards left that you and Tim haven’t already competed for. Maybe it shouldn’t be a material item, you think.

“The loser admits, in roll call tomorrow, that the winner is a better cop,” you suggest.

“It would be fun to hear you say that,” Tim says quietly. “Deal.”

He extends his right hand over the console, and you shake it firmly before sitting back in your seat. When he arrives back at the station, you exit the shop and salute him sarcastically before you walk inside. You begin to worry very quickly that the lead Angela called you back for may not be anything. No matter what, you have to beat Tim because you can’t lose.

“Control, this is Bradford, can you get me information on who owns 1219 Larga Avenue?” Tim radios.

“1219 Larga Avenue is leased by Corporeal Corporations,” control answers.

“A shell corporation,” Tim says to himself.

He’s been following a vehicle matching one listed on the case report. It isn’t the suspect’s vehicle, but one of his acquaintances’. Tim parks down the street and watches the house from his side mirror for several minutes. Whoever was driving the car seems to be staying for a while.

“Control, this is Bradford. I’m approaching the house, code 6-Charles.”

“Assistance on standby.”

Tim opens his door and then hesitates. In his uniform, he has no chance of getting close to anyone in that house. He could approach the house next door to gather intel about how many people are inside, but that could spook them and get innocent people hurt. The third option, one he will never admit to learning from you, is to play the part of a stupid cop at the wrong house.

“Officer!” a woman yells across the street.

Tim gestures for her to quiet before he closes his door and walks across the street. “How can I help you, ma’am?” he asks.

“There was this car that kept driving up and down the road yesterday! It was a young boy and an older man, and they would just drive down, turn around, and come back. I live here, my children play here, and if this is going to become a cesspool of gang people, someone needs to do something!” she explains.

“Ma’am, it sounds to me like a man may have just been teaching his son how to drive on a residential street, which is neither illegal nor gang-related. If you see them again, call the non-emergency line and someone will come make sure everything is alright.”

Tim has dealt with his fair share of stupid complaints, but he can’t even be bothered by this one. Not when something malicious may be taking place four houses away. The woman huffs as she turns to go back to her home. Just as she turns off the sidewalk, someone shoots.

Tim dives behind a nearby car and braces himself against the back bumper. Based on the spray of bullets destroying the car, Tim guesses it’s numerous semi-automatic rifles that he’s up against.

“Dispatch, I need that backup! I’m taking heavy fire,” he radios.

A moment later, dispatch calls, “Code 99” with his location. Tim curses; he doesn’t need every cop in the county coming to his rescue, just one or two. The bullets slow, and Tim moves carefully to the edge of the vehicle. Three men stand in the yard, and he aims his gun at the one closest to him. While he’s replacing the magazine into the gun, Tim shoots his leg, and he falls to the ground. The others open fire again, and Tim spins to be out of sight again.

A heavy hand lands on Tim’s shoulder, and before he can react, a knife is pressed to his throat. Everything goes silent as he’s lifted to his feet and shoved toward the sidewalk. The men have taken their injured partner inside, and Tim knows that once he’s in that house, he is as good as dead.

“Look, man, I just came to answer another call. Let me go and nothing happens,” he tells the man pushing him.

“You already called for backup.”

“And they’ll go to the other house, see a shot-up car. The most you have to do is answer the door and say ‘No, officer, I didn’t see a thing.’”

“You won’t see a thing if you don’t shut up,” the man growls as they near the door.

Tim stands up straighter, and when the knife falls toward his chest rather than his neck, he kicks backward and into the man’s knee. The knife scrapes across Tim’s uniform, but he doesn’t feel it as he turns to face the door and grabs his gun. His hand reaches the holster, but it’s empty. Tim looks around and realizes that his gun must be behind the car. He retrieves the knife from the ground and prepares to run for the car, but two prongs from a taser enter his chest before he can, and he collapses beside his fourth assailant. Sirens echo in the distance as Tim fights to stay conscious. The man on the porch squeezes the trigger again, and Tim only feels the first twitch of his legs before everything stops.

“LAPD, open up!” you yell.

You are moments away from punching the door when it swings open. Immediately, you recognize the long-haired man as your robbery suspect. The chances of him being alone are slim, though, so you can’t think about Tim right now, only about getting this man in custody without getting hurt or killed.

“How can I help, officer?” he asks, leaning against the door to block your view inside.

“I just have a question about the car parked down the street,” you explain with a friendly smile.

“All of my cars are here in my driveway. Maybe ask someone else.”

“So, you don’t know who owns the grey sedan with all the bullet holes and a dead body in the back?” you ask, raising your brows.

“Dead body,” he repeats. He looks past you like he’s trying to figure out how that got there.

“The owner?” you press.

“Oh, sure, uh Miguel, I think is his name. Big guy down the street.”

“Thank you so much for your help. Could I just get your name for my report?” you ask.

“Cody Lambert,” he answers, still looking past you.

You’re surprised that he gives you his real name. Your lie about the body in his car jarred him more than you expected.

“And are you here alone today?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He shifts slightly, and you can see an empty living room behind him. You have an opportunity, but if you take it and you’re wrong, you may be putting Tim’s life on the line.

“Could you point out which house Miguel lives in? I’m terrible with numbers and directions.” You laugh at yourself to sell your dumb act and pray that it works.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, stepping out onto the porch.

He closes the door behind him, and you waste no time pushing him down onto the ground. You keep his face turned toward the dirt so he can’t yell as you secure the handcuffs.

“You’re under arrest,” you say in his ear. “And if you yell when I pick you up, I can’t promise anything. If you stay quiet, though, I’ll get you the best pro bono attorney in the state. Understood?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your offer, so you drive your knee between his kidneys and repeat, “Understood?”

He groans against the ground before a muffled, “Yes,” reaches your ears. You pull him up and walk him to your shop where it’s parked in front of the next house. As you reach for the radio to alert dispatch, a gun is fired inside the house.

“Too late,” your suspect says as you turn to look.

You abandon the radio on the floorboard of the passenger seat and slam the door. As you return to the front door and kick it in, you keep your gun ready. There isn’t time to waste in a situation like this, and Tim is counting on you. If he’s still here and still alive, that is.

When you reach a closed door at the end of the hallway after clearing the other rooms, you raise your gun before you and kick the door open. It hits the wall with a thud as you step over the threshold. One of Cody’s known acquaintances blocks your path, with a puddle of blood beneath him. You look past him to clear the room, but see what you’re looking for before you finish.

“Tim,” you say when you see him stretched out on a broken twin-sized bed.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbles. “And I won.”

You lean over him as you holster your weapon. He is injured and needs assistance, but his radio is smashed and yours is in the shop.

“Are there more of them?” you ask.

“There’s four.”

Tim hasn’t opened his eyes yet, which concerns you. More concerning, however, is the knowledge that there are two more people around this house. You cleared it, but they could be waiting in the attic or just outside.

“I’ll go call for help,” you tell Tim. “Stay alert.”

As you turn, heavy footsteps rattle the walls of the hallway. You look back to Tim and know you can’t leave him here. Even if you do argue, compete, and tease each other, you’re both cops and you have to protect one another. Plus, you care about him, and it hurts you to see him like this. Carefully, you push the door closed and lock it. There’s nothing in the room to block it with… except for the suspect on the floor.

“Did you shoot him?” you whisper. “How?”

“His gun,” Tim mumbles.

You tilt your head quickly, surprised and impressed, though you know Tim has more training in this kind of thing than the average cop. The guy is heavy, literally dead weight, but you roll him against the door as an extra cover before you sidestep the blood puddle and return to Tim’s side.

“Where are you hurt?” you whisper as you kneel beside him.

Tim hums, and you know he’s fading fast. You murmur an apology before you begin unbuttoning his uniform. When you begin to pull it open, you notice two taser prongs buried in his pec muscles. You pull them out quickly and squeeze your eyes closed when Tim grunts.

With his shirt open, you can see a several bloody spots, a scrape against his chest, and swelling on his right side. Gently laying a hand over his t-shirt, you know that his ribs are broken.

“I need to look, Tim,” you say as you grab the bottom of his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

You pull his shirt up carefully and inhale sharply when you see the bruises littering his torso and chest. The swelling looks worse without fabric over it.

“Can you breathe well?” you ask.

Tim shakes his head, a small movement that you feel more than see. There’s a chance that his broken rib has punctured a lung, and he needs medical attention now.

“Thank you,” Tim says. His eyes are still closed, but you watch his face as he says it.

A few moments later, Tim moves his left hand to catch yours as you look at the scrape spanning his chest. He squeezes your wrist softly and your eyes raise to his.

Tim blinks his eyes open and waits until he finds your face to ask, “Why are you helping me?”

“Tim,” you begin. “Why wouldn’t I? You can’t tell me that you think I hate you because of our rivalry. That’s all it has ever been, competition.”

Tim nods as his eyes close again. “I thought you’d be a better cop than me,” he mumbles. “But I got a promotion first.”

You chuckle, trying to ignore the pressure behind your eyes as you watch him lose the battle to stay conscious. In this moment, you feel something that you’ve never experienced before. All the teasing, and the competition to stay close to Tim, were different than this. The care you show him now helps you to see him differently.

Similarly, though his thoughts are jumbled in a mix of pain and adrenaline, Tim sees you as he never has before. Your soft touches, apologies, and clear care and concern for him awaken something in him. Maybe it’s been sleeping or maybe it wasn’t there before today, but Tim likes having you close like this.

“Promise me something,” you whisper. “When we get out of this, we’ll know that we both won.”

Tim nods, and you carefully remove your hand from his. With your gun, plus the one Tim used to kill Cody’s goon, you climb out of the window to get Tim help and the first aid kit from your shop. He knows you’re a good cop, but without you by his side, he can’t take the pain and the worry together, and he finally succumbs to the darkness again.

“I feel fine!” Tim argues with the nurse. “I can go home. There’s no reason to keep me here.”

“The doctors want to observe you overnight to ensure there’s no long-term damage, Officer Bradford,” she replies. “If you stop complaining, it will go faster.”

You knock on the open door with a bag in your hand, and the nurse waves you inside before she leaves. Tim looks at you from his hospital bed, and you offer a small smile. In the minutes after you left Tim in the house, you called for backup, searched the house again, put another suspect in custody, and got into a one-on-one fight with the last one. Tim doesn’t know just how much you went through in those five minutes that you waited for more backup, and he doesn’t need to. All that matters is that he’s safe and is getting better.

“How are you?” you ask.

“Fine,” he answers, watching the bag in your hand.

“Yeah, it’s for you.”

You pass him the bag with his favorite food, a play-by-play of last night’s game, and a picture of Kojo from the dogsitter. As he looks through it, you decide to tell him what you stayed awake thinking about. You finished filing your report as the sun rose over LA, and then you spent the few hours before you could visit Tim thinking of only one thing.

“I think we should call a truce,” you suggest. “A lot has changed in the last twenty-four hours.”

“I don’t want a truce,” Tim answers quickly. “We push each other to be better. We need that.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Then what do we do? Because I can’t go back to just competing all the time, not after what happened.”

“What happened?”

“If you didn’t feel it, I can’t explain it to you, Tim,” you answer softly, wringing your fingers together.

“You want to be more than competitive friends?” Tim guesses.

You shrug, and he shakes his head.

“I won’t stop competing with you or-“

“Taking figurative shots at me?” you finish playfully. “Better than real shots. I’m fine with not changing that part of our relationship, Tim. Besides, you and I both know that our friends are nosy, and it would be awful if we just started being nice to each other.”

Tim nods, and after a moment, looks at you. He extends his hand toward you, and you happily take it.

“Would you like to go to dinner after I get out of here?” he asks.

“I’d love that. I’m also planning to pass you during the next promotion. Then you can call me Sergeant when you try to tell me you’re better than me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tim responds. “But I get to pick where we go since I did win the last competition.”

“I saved your life!”

“But I found our guy.”

“Maybe we both won,” you remind him.

A few weeks later, you kept your promise and now outrank Tim. Not for long, you assume, because he’s a great cop with a bright future, but for now it’s fun to remind him that you’re a Sergeant while he’s still an Officer. “Whoever makes the first arrest today gets to pick where we go on our date Saturday,” you say.

“Whatever you want, Sergeant,” Tim answers.

He tilts your chin gently before he kisses you. You sigh in contentment, happier than ever with Tim. When he releases you, you both climb out of his truck and walk toward the station.

“When I get a position on Metro, I get to say it first,” Tim says as he opens the door for you.

“That’s not fair!” you argue, blocking the doorway.

“If you’re scared that it’ll happen too soon, just say so,” Tim taunts.

“Fine,” you agree, offering your hand to shake.

He shakes your hand, then pulls you into a quick kiss.

“Have a nice day, Sergeant,” he calls as he walks away.

“You too, boot.”

[the-clumsywitchtarot]

Pick-a-Card Reading: What do You Need to Release Right Now?

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Cards

The King of Swords (Reversed)

Seven of Wands

King of Pentacles

This pile needs to let go of feeling like they've never done enough. I feel like you are someone that is diligent and puts their time and effort into almost any and everything that they do. But I feel like you have a hard time letting go and will continue to overthink something long after it's been completed, agonizing over what you could've done better. For instance, if you turn in an assignment at college or university you'll be thinking about how you could've better written the essay only to receive a 100% on it.

On a side note, I also feel like this pile needs to start listening to their intuition more, you are wise. Of course be careful when necessary. But don't completely dismiss your intuition.

Cards

Ace of Cups

Three of Swords (Reversed)

Seven of Pentacles (Reversed)

This is a very interesting pile because I'm getting two different things for some people that will choose this pile I'm getting that you need to release feeling bad about how you express your emotions and for others I'm getting that you need to stop dismissing your emotions.

For the first set of people (those that are made to feel bad about how they express their emotions) consider ignoring those around you that ridicule you for either being too emotional or not emotional enough. Everyone expresses their emotions differently, you have to do what works best for you, if you are extremely emotional, that's fine. And if you are more reserved with your emotions, that's perfectly fine too, please do not let anyone pressure you into changing your emotional expression.

For the second set of people that may have chosen this pile (those that dismiss their emotions). You may need to learn that it is okay and safe to feel and that it's probably better to feel your emotions to avoid issues down the road. I'm not saying that you need to be a puddle of tears and snot, but consider taking the time to actually feel instead of just dismissing an emotion as soon as it arises.

For anyone that chose this pile, if you feel that you might need help consider speaking with a licensed therapist to address any emotional issues that you may have. And if that's the case I wish you all the very best and I hope you receive absolutely everything that you need. 🩷

Cards

Eight of Swords

The Lovers

Queen of Cups

For this pile I'm getting that you need to release the feeling that you need to be perfect or fit some standard that is hard for you to conform to for a partner. This may be for an existing partner or one that you hope to attract. I mainly feel like this is about your physical appearance but I also see that you have some quirks that you feel like you need to hide in order to keep/make your partner happy. But what you don't see is that this person loves you for you, your appearance, those weird things that you try to hide from them, all of it. They find you captivating and they love that you're whole and complete. You're not draining to be around and in this person's eyes you are the whole package. Let's put it this way, if you were anything else in this person's life you'd be their favorite version of it, like if you were a city you'd be their favorite city. If you were a drink you'd be their favorite drink, etcetera, etcetera (a super weird way of describing how much they love you, I know but it's what I got 😊).

Stop thinking that you are not enough and need to be refined in some way to be loved.

Please let me know if your reading resonated and always remember not to make a decision based on a reading unless it's one you feel completely comfortable with. Thank you for visiting my tarot page!

All the Best to You,

Erika, The Clumsy Witch

[macabr3-barbi3]

Entanglement (Sub Vox x Reader)

A request from the lovely @jurijyuu for a tentacle malfunction Sub Vox 💕📺

Tags: Restraints; Light Bondage; Sub Vox; Teasing; Begging; Dom/sub Undertones; Tentacles? Sort of? are Vox's cable/wire things tentacles? the world may never know

💙❤️💙❤️💙

Who could have guessed that trying to do something nice for his doll could have resulted in something like this?

Vox had been waiting for you to finish up with Velvette for the shoot that was happening this evening. He knew after hours of the fucked up poses that Vel forced you into to get the perfect shot you would be sore- she had had you hanging by your knees from the fucking chandelier on one occasion, insisting that the slight sway to the fixture would result it a cool shot from your camera (it did; that wasn’t the point). Her favorite photographer, Velvette was always fucking stealing your free time away from him. It was good for business, but bad for his plan of simply keeping you naked in his room at all times for easy access.

He had been laying in the bed, lazily stroking himself just in case you showed up, when the idea struck him to run you a hot bath and light some candles around the room. It shouldn't have been too much longer before you arrived so the candles wouldn’t burn out, and you always enjoyed it when he ‘set the mood,’ whatever that meant. He could probably sell you on fucking before your bath, too- even more deep aches and sweet bruises for the hot water to soothe.

He was too lazy to get up though, so he had snaked out a few of his cables from the back of his head, long and prehensile, a few pairs of them diving into the various drawers in the room searching for the candles and matches and two slithering across the floor towards the bathroom. Had he thought to check the floor for water from his shower a few hours prior before sending two very much electrical tentacles into the room he might have had better luck.

Currently though, his luck was shit. The water found its way into his wires and shorted them out, electrical current traveling all the way through to the base and fucking up the other cables as well; they whipped and snapped across the room in wide arcs and twisting wriggles, and his attempts to grab them from the air and cease the destruction to his room only resulted in his wrists getting tangled up in the mess.

So here Vox had been for the last fifteen minutes or so, restrained by his wrists in the bed and still achingly, frustratingly hard. His cables didn’t so much as twitch when he tries to send some power to them to reverse the entanglement, or when he tugged his arms a bit. His cock does though, and isn’t that something interesting that he doesn’t want to think about right now.

And then like an angel, there’s the sound of the door opening and you coming home. “Baby,” he shouts from the bedroom, and he hears the telltale thump of your camera bag on the kitchen counter. “I could use your help in here!”

“What did you do now? If you cracked your screen off the stand again-” Your voice trails off when you enter the room and see him- he’s sure he looks fucking ridiculous, spread out like he is, and he feels the spread of pink pixels over his screen in a blush.

“I was trying to do something nice for you,” he says, “and got some water in my wires. Everything went haywire, and, well, now I’m here. Be a doll and help me get loose?”

The way you’re watching him is a little disconcerting- not bad by any means, he loved having your eyes on him, just a little unusual. You slide your jacket off your shoulders and toss it on the armchair, sliding your hair out of its bun that you wear to keep your hair out of your eyes while you work. When you go for the button on your jeans he clears his throat.

“I appreciate the strip tease, sweetheart, but there’s more pressing matters at hand here.” He lifts his wrists in demonstration, the wires brushing his skin in a way that makes him suck in a harsh breath, dick twitching in his boxers. “Come on, help me.”

You work your jeans and panties down your legs, his eyes trailing the whole way before settling on the space between your legs. Then your shirt comes off, perfect tits on display as you do a rotation, let him take in the visual of your body in front of him before running your hands down your skin and back up- one hand plucks at a nipple while the other dips down between your legs.

Vox’s mouth is hanging open, pixelated lines of drool coming off his mouth as he watches you, cock throbbing out of his reach. He tugs at his makeshift restraints, a little breathless when it sends a bolt of arousal through his body- seriously, what the fuck? “I am in no mood to be teased right now,” he tells you, but the words are a little reedy and almost whimpered. He clears his throat and tries again- “Seriously, help me.”

You come closer to the bed, climb onto it and settle yourself between his legs. “Come on, Voxxy,” you murmur, and the low, dangerous tone to your voice goes straight to his straining erection despite the use of that fucking nickname that he hated. “Tied up all pretty for me and not even going to say ‘please?’ That’s not how you get what you want.” Your hands run up his calves, up his thighs, and your thumbs brush into the dip of his pelvic bone. Your touch sends electricity crackling through him, static sparking between his antennae. “That’s what you always say anyway- you wouldn’t want to be a hypocrite, would you?” You drag the waistband of his boxers down, and he’s half-mortified when his hips automatically cant up to make it easier for you, his dick slapping heavy onto his abdomen when it springs free.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He can feel the manic grin on his face- confused by the turn of events, by his sweet, perfect doll not simply doing what you were told and, what? Trying to get him to beg? As if- even if it was hot as fuck (and it was, Christ). “Baby, I- ohhhh, fuck-” 

Your head ducked down to lick a stripe up his cock, tongue curling around the head- his hips buck up, try to sink into the wet cavern of your mouth but you pull back with a soft smile. “Say please.”

“Fuck you.” Vox says this affectionately- he was the one in control in the bedroom, this was cute and all, but he wouldn’t plead with you for it.

“Not with that attitude, you won’t be,” you snap back with a wicked grin on your face. And you’re gone again, bent over to lick and suck at the hard length of him with your ass in the air, just the way that he likes.

Again, when he tries to thrust into your mouth you pull off, and he tugs uselessly at his restraints, head falling back against the pillows when you bring a hand up to cup his balls, thumb running gently over the sensitive skin. “Haah- you’re going to fucking kill me.” He’s a little embarrassed by that whiny moan that had escaped him, but you’re not even looking at his face, head resting on his thigh to gaze lovingly at his fucking dick while you stroke and kiss and generally tease him.

Vox thinks he might be losing his mind, just a little. But fuck does he want it, want to lose himself in the wet heat of your mouth, sink deep into your slick cunt and watch you bounce in his lap. He could still do that with his hands restrained, right? He wouldn’t be able to grip your hips the way he wanted to, or get his fingers on your clit and revel in the way that always made you clench tighter around him- but he could make do if you wouldn’t release him.

And there’s the thought that does him in- that maybe you wouldn’t let him go, would keep him tied to the bed with his own goddamn wires to tease him endlessly, unable to do anything about it himself, evidently unable to convince you to do anything for him. He was at your mercy here, the thought making him dizzy with arousal and an unprompted whine falling from his lips when he notices you working your fingers between your legs while you finally let the head of his cock slip past your lips, suction on the tip that makes him see stars.

“P-please,” he breathes out, and you release him with a pop, such excitement lighting up your eyes that he wishes he had given in sooner- you were so beautiful when you were pleased and excited, what would you look like when he gave in to you like this?

You move up the bed, legs on either side of his, and slide your drenched folds against the length of him. Leaning down so your face is next to his, you press a deep kiss to his mouth, slipping your tongue alongside his before you pull back and whisper, “again.” Your hands press into Vox’s chest as you slot him against you, rub the head of his prick against your clit and groan in ecstasy.

His hips jerk at the sensation. “Please, baby,” he says darkly, “let me fuck you.”

“Hmm, not quite what I’m looking for.” You lift off of him, slide back and out of reach again. “Try again?”

“What? Come on, I can’t-” He pulls at his restraints again, and the way your eyes go half-lidded at the sight gets the message through. “You wanna keep me trussed up, is that it?”

“Is it so wrong for the photographer to want to keep a pretty picture on display?” Your fingers twitch between your pretty thighs, grinding tiny circles into your clit while you wait for him to give you what you want. “I wish I hadn’t left my camera in the kitchen; I would love a shot like this. I’d have to get some different lighting…” Your hips stop moving for a moment as you look around the room. “Maybe candlelight would work? I think that would cast a nice glow on your skin, so pretty- fuck, should I go get my camera?”

“No!” The word breaks past the dam of his lips when you use one of his own tricks against him- the threat of ending the pleasure when you’re so fucked out and cock drunk, on the brink of cumming. “No no no, doll, don’t leave- fuck, please, alright? Please touch me, fuck me, ride my cock. I’m fucking begging, I need it-”

A shudder rolls through your body, and finally, finally you sink down on him, a slow, delicious slide that has his fingers clenching uselessly where they’re held, wishing he could hold you, dig his claws in like he usually did.

“I didn’t say stop,” you moan, watching him through narrowed eyes. “Come on, Voxxy, tell me what you want.”

“I want you to stop fucking t͖͖̠̬͛ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅi̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ me-” Your hips slow and Vox bites his tongue, rephrasing- and this time, to his chagrin, the stream of words doesn’t fucking stop. “Please, baby, don’t stop- f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, so fucking good, I w-want- I wanna cum, please, keep going, you f-feel so f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ g̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓-” An honest to God whimper comes out of him, so invested in both of you cumming that he can’t even find the sense in him to be embarrassed by what was happening. His screen is glitching out, his vision broken when he goes full static every couple of seconds, but the glimpses he’s getting in between of you with your head thrown back are going to fuel his jerk-off sessions when he can’t spend the night with you for the rest of his afterlife. You felt fucking perfect around him, your swollen pussy walls squeezing him just right as you rode him.

“Say please,” you command, fingers working between your legs, the back of your hand brushing against his abdomen and causing the muscles to flutter under you. “Ask me to make you cum- ask for permission and I’ll let you cum in me-”

And didn’t that just sound like the perfect end to the evening? He doesn’t even question it, couldn’t stop his traitorous tongue if he tried. “Please, doll, oh my fucking- please please p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ, p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ, let me do it, cum with me-” He feels the tension in his entire body, from his suspended arms to the tips of his goddamn toes- he might actually fully fucking short out, he thinks deliriously, processors overloading in his brain at the sights and sounds and the feel of you sucking him into your greedy body. “- p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ let me, baby- oh f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, I’m gonna-”

You hit the peak of your orgasms together, your body jerking in his lap like you’ve been electrocuted while your cunt wrings him like a fucking towel, tensing and rippling around his cock as he spills into the slickness, long pulses of cum as far inside of you as he can get and its not enough- he can never be close enough to you to feel complete so he settles for filling you with everything he has to give.

Vox doesn’t black out, but its a near thing- the explosion of sudden voltage to his circuits actually jump-starts the core of his cable tentacles and they spring to life, his wrists finally coming free and falling to the bed so he’s spread out like some fucked up crucifixion. They’re numb, he realizes, but before he can get to doing anything about that you shift, reaching for them and massaging feeling back into his limbs. There’s some light bruising, but nothing crazy, not any worse than you had whenever the pair of you occasionally delved into bondage. 

The heavy breathing of you both evens out, and you bring his hands to your mouth to press light kisses to them. When you’re satisfied you release him, and his arms wrap around your back. You press a gentle kiss to his screen and rest your head on his chest. 

“You know,” you mutter into his skin, “technically I didn’t give you permission to cum. That’s gotta count for… something. I’m not sure what.”

He snorts into your hair. “Doesn’t count for shit. You cheated, waiting until I was right on the brink to say that shit.”

You hum, and snuggle closer. “You liked it though? Maybe a repeat in the future?”

His instinct was to say no, but he couldn’t deny that he had enjoyed it- you were a dangerous force in control, something he would maybe have to mention to Velvette so she would let you direct your own goddamn shoots. “We’ll talk about it,” he settles on, still a tad embarrassed by his reaction to the whole thing. “I do think you should have to draw the bath now, though- for both of us, since I think you rode me so hard my thighs have bruises.”

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh into his chest, but you still roll off of him and disappear into the bathroom- the sound of running water fills the room while Vox tries to remember how to make his legs work.

“I better not see that camera in here, either!” He shouts, and your responding giggle brings a smile to his face.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56081230

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

first i wanna say that the royalty au fic was soo enjoyable to read!! and can i request platonic!headcanons with piper mclean x daughter of hades?? where the readers like kinda scary and off putting and they somehow create a bond with piper😭 i’m also sure ur inbox is going to be flooded with requests so take ur time !!

⋆⭒˚.⋆ platonic! piper mclean x daughter of hades! reader hcs

𝜗𝜚 content...platonic! piper mclean x daughter of hades! reader hcs 𝜗𝜚 warnings...lanauage and (technically) sexual innuendos 𝜗𝜚 letter's from the author...ta da!!!! After doing this, i realized i have a negative grasp on piper's character lmao- (pretty sure I didn't like her as a kid but tbh i dont really remember as for the whole of the lost hero i was completely distracted by leo and jason-) so, i don't know how good or bad this is but uh it's here!! so enjoy ig but if you don't no worries we'll just forget this ever happened!!

────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

-`♡´- "hey, you look cool and lonely. wanna be friends?"

-`♡´- what an opener, am i right???

-`♡´- i don't think piper is one of those people to be like, ashamed lmao

-`♡´- so im sure she had no problem marching right up to you and asking to be friends

-`♡´- though, this is a little jarring at eight in the morning over your bagel, but you let it slide because she seemed to have good intentions

-`♡´- and also, she called you lonely...which was true, but most people don't just say that.

-`♡´- especially not to a kid of the big three (mother fuck the big three, it's just big me-)

-`♡´- you simply shrugged and nodded, which caused piper to nodded back before returning to her table.

-`♡´- you didn't think anything of the interaction, shrugging it off and nearly forgetting about it, until piper came up to you later and started talking to you about your earrings and your clothes and basically everything else under the sun

-`♡´- and, strangely enough, you didn't mind the daughter of aphrodite, not one bit

-`♡´- in fact, you found her company...endearing.

-`♡´- from that point on, it was hard to find the daughter of hades with out her bestie daughter of aphrodite

-`♡´- she brought out a fun side in you and sometimes you were able to keep piper from going completely crazy

-`♡´- hang outs in the arena is a must

-`♡´- partially to train but also to watch all the other cute demigods get sweaty and flustered

-`♡´- i know you guys talk about crushes like you would not believe, code names and all

-`♡´- but the code names are always like 'abe lincoln' and 'angel food cake' which def have a meaning that only you guys know

-`♡´- ALSO big on the whole 'sweet treat' thing

-`♡´- i know daddy tristan mclean be keeping piper's credit card MAXED

-`♡´- and i also know piper would only enjoy spending it on her friends

-`♡´- sometimes, just for shits and giggles, you and piper trade aesthetics

-`♡´- they aren't super dissimilar but it's noticeable enough

-`♡´- ummmm matching pjs for the sleepover??? YES YES YES

-`♡´- obvi pipers are pink and yours are black, duh!

-`♡´- but they are still matchy matchy

-`♡´- and horror movies are BIG at these sleepovers, which also includes themed snacks

-`♡´- "should i be concerned about whether or not the blood in these cupcakes is real?" piper asked, eyeing them and you suspiciously

-`♡´- "it's not animal blood if it makes you feel better," you teased back.

-`♡´- "that does, in fact, not make me feel better."

-`♡´- that being said, you are the biggest defender of piper and her vegetarian

-`♡´- will fight anyone who tries to give piper meat, even on accident

-`♡´- but, you've also DEF bought piper a shirt that says something along the lines of 'the only meat i eat is roast beef ;)' or 'eat pussy, it's organic!"

-`♡´- piper wears them, unironically

-`♡´- AND SHE FUCKING ROCKS THEM STFU-

-`♡´- you guys aren't really known for your raw moments, but late at night, when you're both lying in bed after a sleepover, the strong sense of girlhood just takes you over and you can't help but spill your guts.

-`♡´- "you know, you're my best friend. thank you for, uh, calling me a loser basically."

-`♡´- "of course. i'm glad you were being a total loser that day so that we could be losers together from that point forwards."

[pumpkinbxtch]

heyy! I was wondering if you could do a hc for jason x daughter of Neptune like a beach date and it end with the Neptune girl having a full collection of shells and Jason taking care of her? If that makes sense?! 💗💗

beach day w my baby | headcanons

— jason grace x daughter of neptune!reader

☆ radiostar is playing: sunburn by almost monday…!

warnings: language, as usual I think. a/n: hey beautiful person how you're doing? ofc makes sense so put your sunglasses on girl, we're having a beach day!

Jason couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day than taking you to the beach. Sure, it seemed a bit cliché for a daughter of Neptune, but you couldn’t deny that you missed being near the sea, especially when everyone at Camp Jupiter saw you as just a bad omen. Jason wished it could be like at Camp Half-Blood, where the kids of the Big Three were almost too respected.

You reached for his hand, and he put those thoughts aside. He wanted to focus on you today and have a good time.

For your day at the beach...

Jason carried the backpack with all the essentials, double-checking everything before you left:

- Sunscreen? Check. Maybe it didn’t bother you or him, but he had to protect both of your skin.

- Towels to dry off? Check.

- An inflatable donut? It wasn’t for you, it was for him. He’s a good swimmer, but he wanted to relax too (which clearly didn’t happen).

- And finally, a small net bag.

- water

- snacks

- a protector for his glasses

- a change of clothes for both.

You’d probably drag him through the sand and play with him in the water. Jason held you tightly by the waist, and you smiled in that special way you only did when you were near the water... and him.

He was sweating from the heat and also because you made him nervous. How long have you been his girlfriend? He lost count (okay, he knows exactly, but it’s been long enough for him to be used to it).

He’s a shrimp if he doesn’t protect himself, but even with sunscreen, his face had pink spots.

You took him to a deeper spot with the help of an air bubble, showing him places he could never have seen without you.

Kissing underwater.

Putting sunscreen on each other. Jason always shyly asked when he got near places that might bother you with his hands.

When you were taking a break in the shade on your towels, he would direct a breeze toward you. No heatwave would threaten you.

He kept both of you hydrated.

Then you smiled and reached into the bag for the one thing you begged him to bring: your net bag. “Be right back,” you giggled anxiously and ran off before your boyfriend could say anything. Jason tried to stay put but ended up going with you.

“Look at this!” you squealed, holding up a shell to Jason’s eye level. The comparison was clear because that shell was a shade of blue similar to his eyes. Jason framed the view with his hands.

“Are there shells that color?” You shrugged and tossed it into the net to keep searching until you had a big collection.

Tired, you sat at the edge of the shore, where the tide just touched your toes, and Jason mimicked you. He kissed your forehead and smiled warmly as the sun began to set.

You held the net up, admiring the diversity and beauty of something so simple, then hugged it to your chest, looking a bit sad.

“Something wrong?” your boyfriend asked, noticing your heaviness and thinking you might have hurt yourself.

“Nothing,” you said, standing up and shaking the sand off your legs. “I’m going to put them back where they belong.”

He found it strange. If you’d put so much effort into collecting them, why return them?

“I’m afraid my father will get mad at me for taking something so precious,” you explained, “or that guy Grover will chase me for damaging the ecosystem,” you added with a more genuine laugh.

So, Jason helped you spread out what you had collected. You didn’t feel bad about doing the right thing; quite the opposite.

“All set?” Jason called a few meters away, and you nodded. He noticed you were holding something in your hand and asked with his eyes.

You extended your hand, revealing the unusual shell with the same eye color as Jason. “I know my dad won’t be mad if I take just one,” you said, taking Jason’s hand. He smiled and carried you bridal-style to the showers to wash off the sand.

[in1-nutshell]

Optimus and team's reaction to Maximum Prime.  Like say Optimus survived however he lost the matrix and was now chillin as orion pax.  I want to see his reaction when he regained a part of himself but lost a part of his daughter.  I want to see the team’s reaction when they realize how much the matrix actually takes.  Miko tries to reach her through the power of rock music and gets met with a blank stare

This will take place in the scenario were Optimus gets amnesia and Maxima takes the mantle.

Hope you enjoy!

Maxima taking on the Matrix of Leadership

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight angst, Cybertronian reader

TFP

The team doesn’t know where Optimus had gone and is slowly falling apart without him.

Maxima is trying to keep the order in the team the best she can.

Jack mentions the key thing that Optimus gave him before everything went down.

Maxima nearly has a spark attack seeing it.

The Key to Vector Sigma.

Maxima goes with Jack to Cybertron to reactivate it.

She refuses to have Jack go to their dead world without some protection.

The plan was simple.

Power the key, get Orion back from Megatron, (maybe spend some time with him), restore his memory with the key, and take a nap.

But since when do plans ever go right?

Instead of powering the key fully, Vector Sigma produced a new matrix.

Jack is confused when he sees Maxima go the robot equivalent of pale.

Even more when she refuses to have him near the object as it followed them back home.

Everyone at the base is surprised to see a new Matrix of Leadership floating around, specifically following Maxima.

Maxima wants nothing to do with that thing and is very open about it.

It soon starts nudging her plating and chassis, as if wanting to get inside.

Maxima running through the base.

Bulkhead holding her shoulder.

“Maxima what’s wrong? What—”--Bulkhead

The Matrix turns the corner and starts floating to Maxima.

“Sorry Bulk!”--Maxima

“Sorry—”--Bulkhead

Maxima elbows him hard in the faceplate, making him drop her to hold his face.

Maxima makes a break for it as the Matrix continues to follow her.

“YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!”--Maxima

“Man, she really doesn’t like that thing.”--Miko

She knows what it’s doing, and she is not going let that happen.

But looks at her team and her spark tightens.

They are lost.

They need a leader.

They need a Prime.

Especially with everyone nudging her to take the matrix until Orion came back.

Maxima had a feeling it was not going to be that simple.

Finally, she relents.

“It’s only a temporary position Maxima. The Matrix will go back to Optimus once he is back.”--Ratchet

Maxima bites back a response.

“Beep! Boop bep boop bop? (Yeah! It can’t be that bad, can’t it?)”--Bumblebee

Maxima sighs shakingly.

“I’ll do it.”--Maxima

The Matrix nudges her shoulder.

She begins to walk to the hallway before stopping.

“Maxima?”--Arcee

Maxima turns on her heels and crashes into Ratchet, hugging him tightly.

Ratchet doesn’t have time to react before she lets go and runs to the Matrix and follows it to another room.

Suddenly the lights and power started flickering.

“Is that normal?!”--Raf

“I believe the merging is happening and that’s why—”--Ratchet

The lights return back to normal and heavier pedestep come closer.

The team looks at the hallway to see a much taller, robust Maxima.

Miko runs up to Maxima’s pedes.

“Maxima! You’re so much taller and bigger and—”--Miko

“Miko.”

“And your voices is deeper and—”

“Miko.”

Miko stops talking as the bot takes a knee to look at her.

She holds out her much larger servo, Miko hops on as she stands up and places Miko back on the balcony.

She turns to the team.

“My name is not Maxima. My name is Maximum Prime.”--Maximum

The team welcomes this new Prime in.

They learn quickly that there is a stark difference between Maximum and Maxima.

The Prime behavior shows in Maximum.

A near replica of Optimus but in a different way.

Miko and the kids are weirded out by this new Prime.

What happened to their friend?

Once Orion’s signature is found, Maximum is readying everyone for battle, inheriting the same talent of speech her father had.

The cons didn’t know what hit them.

Mainly because of this large monster semi-truck ramming into the troops.

Everyone thinks the bots have a new recruit.

Finally, team prime has reached Orion, Megatron, Soundwave, Starscream and a few others.

Orion sees Maximum and feels like he knows her.

This robust bot had many features his daughter had.

Maybe they knew each other.

Megatron and Soundwave felt everything come to a screeching halt.

Their energetic niece had taken the mantle of the Prime.

She was someone else.

Soundwave knows that this isn’t going to work and starts preparing the groundbrigdes for the remaining troops.

He isn’t happy that his niece has taken this burden.

Megatron is enraged.

How could they let a sparkling take on the Matrix?!

Megatron quickly masks his fury and gives her a smug smile.

“It looks like Team Prime has gotten so desperate that they had to rely on a sparkling to—”--Megatron

“Let Orion Pax go now.”--Maximum

“Oh? And if I don—"--Megatron

BANG!

No one was expecting Maximum to kick him in the face.

And that didn’t stop there.

The blasting, punching and kicking continued.

Maximum gave him one warning and one warning only.

Megatron is lucky to have made it out of there with most of his army.

What just happened?

What happened to Maxima?

Maxima is gentle to take in Orion.

Orion gets the news from Ratchet.

He is floored by everything.

That scary bot that dropkicked Megatron was his daughter?

He really doesn’t believe it.

Orion tries to reach her but gets nothing in return.

Everyone wants Maxima back.

“All right Orion, all you need to do is open your chassis like so.”--Maximum

Maximum opens her chassis, showing the glowing Matrix.

Orion opens his chassis.

“Now it should float into your chassis and turn you back into Optimus Prime.”--Maximum

Everyone is waiting for the transformation.

Nothing happens.

Ratchet gets some pliers out.

“I’m going to take that out myself!”--Ratchet

The pliers break on impact.

Everyone is silent.

Maximum silently closes her chassis.

“I need a moment to communicate with the Matrix.”--Maximum

Maximum begins to walk away.

But stops when a loud guitar strung shakes the ground.

Maximum turns and looks at Miko holding an electric guitar.

“Maxima?”--Miko

Maximum shakes her helm sadly.

“I am sorry Miko, but my name is still Maximum Prime.”--Maximum

The new Prime walks to her habsuite leaving everyone in the main room.

For now, Maxima was no more.

Long Live Maximum Prime.

[bertoyana]

funniest thing to #Me about the use of charles' telepathy in charles' and erik's relationship in the prequels is how both of them suck SOOO bad at using it LMAOOOO

like, you'd think having a telepath in the dynamic would actually help things along with the communication, but they are both USELESS at making use of it

charles will use it to crossdress erik and tell angel how much he wants to fuck him and erik will use it to tell charles how much he wants to be controlled, but that's ALL they use it for. it's not even horny or funny anymore it's just SAD, man. they suck so bad at it

(the only time they ever make good use of it is when charles unburied one of erik's memories with his mother, and that's it)

erik just automatically assumes charles knows everything and that he knows WHY erik does the things he does (because charles is in his head, so he MUST know, right?) and charles automatically assumes erik understands the hidden meaning of every single thing he says (because erik is also in charles' thoughts, so he SHOULD know, right?)

(wrong. they are both stupid and they will keep going in circles for 30 years straight)

like. take their first interaction in xma as an example

(on the other hand, i don't even want to think about the "you are looking in the wrong place" line because it makes me want to k1ll myself in front of the writers)

they are in each other's heads right now, and yet they are not even LISTENING to each other, they are just going in circles because both of them are too wrapped up in erik's own grief to actively try to hear what the other is trying to say. and while you can tell charles is hurting for erik and wants to help him, he's probably not going about it the best way

also if you pay attention at the start of the scene, when erik feels charles in his mind he just... looks confused, curious maybe, as to why charles is there, but he doesn't get angry or defensive straight away. he just lost his family for the second time (simon kimberg i'm in your walls) so he's probably even welcoming the only familiar thing he still has left.

he doesn't get defensive UNTIL charles starts talking and just kind of... also starts putting his own foot into his mouth. bless his heart.

and the thing is, while they get interrupted by apocalypse... being there lmao, i don't think this would have pan out any different if it was just the two of them. as i said, they are not listening to each other. charles means well but he's not really listening to what erik is trying to tell him, and in response to this erik is rejecting any type of help charles wants to give him.

and we know apocalypse was using erik's grief (about magda and nina, about the camps) to manipulate him - *we* as an audience know that, but back in this scene, charles doesn't even NOTICE apocalypse. and this, plus the fact that as we've established, they SUCK at trying to listen to each other and communicate, just brings the entire thing to failure.

(also imagine being the most powerful telepath in the world and being too focused on your best friend to notice the god standing a few steps away from him... which could mean nothing)

(mind you. they are literally in each other's heads rn. they can hear what the other is thinking and feeling. AND YET)

and it's even funnier (no) how they are even WORSE without charles' telepathy. take as an example, both of their fights in the plane in dofp

from charles' point of view, erik was the one that left him. erik literally and physically LEFT him in cuba, took the only teleporter there was and left charles to bleed out (lmao). meanwhile, from erik's point of view, he might have left first physically, but he only did so after charles rejected him. so, from HIS point of view, charles was the one to pull away FIRST. when he told him they didn't want the same thing (rejecting erik's ideals and by thus rejecting erik himself as well)

(and charles also let erik to rot in prison for 10 years so he could be also referring to that lmao)

this also brings me to my other point. which is something that i do think is pretty much ignored by everyone, but to be fair, it's also ignored by the movie so,

and it's the fact that the movie establishes that erik has been isolated for 10 YEARS. again, we as the audience know that charles has been struggling for the past 11 years, we know he did all he could for the mutants and we know he's been struggling, and we also know he's been using the serum because he couldn't stand the voices.

mind you, erik doesn't know any of this. not only because he's been in prison for 10 years (and i doubt they let him keep up with the news) but also because charles doesn't tell him any of this (fair)

and the last thing erik said to charles before they parted ways in cuba was that they wanted the same thing, which charles denied.

so from erik's point of view, all that he knows is that charles promised him all those years ago that he wasn't alone, and then he rejected erik in cuba, sent him away, and then proceeded to give up on erik and on their cause by doing nothing when the mutants were being tortured and experimented on. and he started using the serum and living with hank like a normal human being, sacrificing his powers and 'betraying' their cause.

ofc none of this is what actually happened, and *we* know that. but erik doesn't. and for some reason??? that i find extremely hilarious??? no one ever BOTHERS to correct erik's assumption, lmao. also none of this ever comes up again in the movies which to me just means erik went on believing that charles just briefly gave up on their cause for 10 years LMAOOO

okay, moving on bc i still have things to yap about

the other plane scenes comes in. erik shows up with the chessboard, they actually DO talk a bit and erik tells him he didn't mean to kill jfk (can't believe i wrote that down these movies were insane) and then they settle to play chess. AAAND this scene comes in

and he apologizes for SHOOTING charles, because he never meant to hurt him, and he does regret that. but he's not apologizing for leaving, because, once again, from his point of view, charles left HIM

and then charles hits him with the most pathetic saddest wettest expectant look in existence (james mcavoy you are insane) because he thinks erik is going to apologize for leaving

and then erik hits him with this LMAOOO

and charles realizes erik is apologizing for shooting him (something i'm pretty sure charles didn't exactly blame him for? his biggest accusation was that erik abandoned him)

and you can see charles literally and figuratively backtracking and shutting down immediately AGAIN.

(because, again, charles thinks erik left him, and erik should apologize for that, but from erik's pov? charles rejected him, he pulled away FIRST so he wasn't the first to abandon the other. charles was)

(they both are wrong and right in a way. they also don't tell each other any of this)

then it's erik's turn to give charles the wettest and saddest look known in mankind, charles shuts down, refuses to even look at erik, he changes topics and erik lets him.

(they never talk about this again, btw)

(it probably blew up in their faces in genosha. i just know they make everyone's life miserable as hell in there . god bless)

anyways, i'm sure someone smarter than me could make a more interesting analysis of how you can tell they do genuinely care about each other, but their failing to communicate properly just brings them to their fall down over and over. especially because it's something that keeps blowing up in their faces all the time in the prequels. something something the failure of telepathy something.

[97keanu]

The Beast You’ve Made Of Me.

Premise: After moving to the town of San Dimas in 1990, you figured it was nothing more but a small town filled with like minded drama. You’ve been uprooted mid senior year because of your “behavioral problems”, as your mother would put it, and it hasn’t been easy fitting in. Lucky you, you find the one person there you can really trust, your sweet and loving boyfriend Ted. It’s the night of a big party out in the woods, one last hurrah before the end of your senior year, and you debut you and Ted as a couple. The drama from that gossip turns out to be the least of your worries when your boyfriend is dragged away mid smoke sesh by something from the woods. When he reappears later, distant, and uninterested in seeing you, you begin to wonder what’s really going on. You soon learn that the town of San Dimas, California is hiding more secrets than you thought.

One thing you know for sure, you have to be careful when the moon is full…

CW/Tags: Hurt, Angst, Ted/Evil!Ted/This is kind of a Jekyll and Hyde situation, Werewolf AU, stoner!ted + reader, cheerleader!reader, eventual smut, slowish burn, clueless!reader, sweet but sad!reader, longing, outcast!reader, small town gossip/drama, revenge flirting, angry/needy, p in v, knotting, dubcon, drunk!reader, biting, tasting blood, size kink, aftercare?, cuddling, slight mentions of breeding, cute ending/happy ending/comfort ending.

Words: 8.3k

꒰˵ˊPlaylistˋ˵꒱

“Isn't it supposed to rain tonight?” You overhear one of the other party goers say shyly as pewter clouds churn overhead.

“Yeah, but it ain’t raining yet!” One of the ‘future-frat-boy’ seniors belts out followed by the howls of his pack, otherwise known as the San Dimas football team.

“Well, you know what they say about being out on a full moon…” One of the popular girls complains in a whiny tone, allowing an in for the jocks to make fun of her which for all they know could be flirting.

“Ohhh, someone's scared of the big bad wolf?” They tease while mimicking wolfish noises loudly.

Despite the stars being blocked out by threatening storm clouds, the full moon rules bright between tuffs of gray, an amber ring echoing around it. You watch it, perplexed by its color, not watching your step as you hike towards the lodge. Your white converse hits an uncovered mossy root and for a second you think you will already start to embarrass yourself for the night by falling in front of everyone.

Then, a gentle hand helps to steady your elbow, the other resting on your lower back, your tight, cream crop top exposing the skin there.

“Hey, easy now…” You hear the soft tones of your boyfriend's voice whisper to you.

You turn towards him, a small smile pulling at the corners of your glossy lips as you look into his comforting brown eyes. He returns the smile and gives your cheek a gentle peck.

You and Ted haven’t been dating long, you didn’t have the chance to.

After everything that happened at your last school, your mother thought best to pull you out in the middle of your senior year and plant you here in San Dimas, California.

It was different from what you were used to, and in other ways all the same. The clique-y drama, rumors that somehow snowball out of control, and your mother’s expectations of you being the perfect preppy daughter, her highschool mini me. Only problem was the move and your reputation nullified any chance at being prom queen, valedictorian, or dating the quarterback. Hey, at least you managed to make the cheerleading squad and your grades up. That seemed to keep her off your back for the most part.

Sure, your mother still doesn’t know you are dating one of the San Dimas High School’s resident stoners, but she wouldn’t understand anyways. Ted was an escape from the prim and proper world of suburbia, someone who liked to have fun and be himself, not to mention completely head over heels for you. It felt good to be loved, felt good to have a home in him.

You watch as fairy lights cast a glow behind him, almost throwing a little halo in his dark brown hair. You feign confidence as members of the SDHS’s student body watch you walk in with Ted, a few whispers already happening behind red solo cups. As you two go through the cabin to the back yard, you can tell Ted notices your tension rise, and his thumb creates comforting circles on your skin.

“Say the word, and we’ll go.” His voice says low and slow in your ear, breath tickling you there.

You give a small head shake, and Ted nods, keeping on as if he has no worries. The happy-go-lucky energy he gives off calms you. You lean into him, sweeping your long ponytail away from your neck.

Up until now, Ted Logan had mainly been a secret you kept all to yourself, but the prying eyes around you could never make you doubt how good of a boyfriend he was. You were too in love not to be confident about that.

______

The bonfire that the football team constructed was actually quite impressive, you had to give them credit there since manual labor was their forte. You snuggle into Ted’s orange jacket that he’s wrapped around you, inhaling the scent of cheap body spray and marijuana. The warmth of the fire prickles your cheeks as Ted strategically toasts a marshmallow beside you. Your chin finds a home on his shoulder, relaxing into his body.

The chatter of the rest of the party drones on with bursts of laughter cutting up the monotones. You know that this isn’t the usual crowd for Ted, but he seems at home as ever, whispering little jokes to you as he enjoys the night despite cross looks from others. You’re sure there will be more talk on Monday about how you don’t deserve to be on the cheer squad if you’re going to be hanging out with burnouts and stoners like Ted Logan, but that doesn't matter. It was only a week before the end of the year, and then you’d be free of highschool forever. Tonight, you were going to enjoy being a senior with your boyfriend without shame.

”Hey,” Ted leans into you, holding out a perfectly brown marshmallow and gently popping it in your mouth when you open it. “Do you wanna go smoke? There’s a little dock to the lake that I know…”

He looks at you with a shy half-smile, and despite the fact that he knows you like getting high just as much as him, he still acts nervous to ask one of the cheerleaders to do something so improper. You nod, mouth full of sweet marshmallow fluff, and let him help you stand up. No one really notices when the two of you slip away from the beacon of light and into the dark forest full of summer greens.

Ted guides you, the trail a bit hard to see in the dark, but not impossible.

“It’s not too far away from here,” You hear him say beside you, as well as the other night noises of the forest humming along.

You let him take your hand into his warm one, an arm wrapped around the small of your waist to keep you safe from almost falling once more. You don’t know what it is about Ted, but you just trust him. Like, completely, utterly trust him despite only knowing him for a few months. He’s not like the other boys at school, who you have to watch your drink with, have to be careful of ending up alone with. No, Ted really only has your best interest in mind, and you feel safe with him right now.

That’s why when you hear a low howl off in the distance you cling into his body, freezing up for a moment.

“What was that?” You say, trying not to let the tinge of panic rise in your voice.

“Probably just a coyote,” Ted starts to explain, his voice soft and soothing.

“It sounded like a wolf…” You whisper as another howl responds to the first.

“Wolves aren’t usually out this way,” Ted reassures with a small laugh. “And we’re only a five minute walk away from everyone else. Three if we run.”

“Do we have to run?” You try to look up at his face, but the moonlight is concealed by the clouds at the moment, so all you see is shadows.

“No, no,” He backpedaled. “We’re going to be fine, babe. Just the sounds of the forest, is all.”

You feel his hand gently rubbing your back, and the motion calms you down. You take a deep breath, and let him keep walking you forward. Soon enough, you walk through a clearing, and the world seems to open up once more from the claustrophobia of the forest.

The lake ebbs and flows, making splashing noises against the dark rocks on its coast. You can barely tell what’s in there, the water a deep color of black, small sparklings shining off as the moon begins to find its way out once more.

Your shoes knock against the wood of the docks, creaking as you make your way down, eyes starting to get used to the dark. You take a seat at the end letting your legs dangle off the edge. You settle in, slipping your converse and socks off, your feet dipping into the cool water. Your previous fear in the forest starts to settle down as you listen to the calming waters.

Ted gently opens his jacket that you’re still wearing, and pulls a joint and a lighter from the inner pocket, giving you a kiss after as if he’s thankful that you let him grab it. You watch as his face lights up from the small orange glow of the lighter, the joint hanging lazily out of the corner of his mouth. For a second, you feel a blush coming up to your cheeks as you appreciate how adorable he looks.

He takes a deep inhale of the joint, holding it in for a second, then coming closer. You know what he wants to do, and welcome his soft, full lips onto yours. He parts your lips slowly, letting you feel the smoke from his lungs exhale into yours, tendrils of smoke floating up from the spaces your lips didn’t fully close around. You let his air fill your lungs, then deepen the kiss while trying not to let any spill out. Finally, you must pull away, breathing out once more and feeling heat in more than just your cheeks.

This little ritual of yours continues until you hear something rustling in the brush behind you. Your eyes feel warm and heavy, and you slowly turn your attention towards the sound, the dark of the night keeping whatever’s there hidden.

“Did you hear that?” You say without turning towards Ted.

“Hear what?” Ted’s voice is soft and lazy.

You say nothing, trying to force your ears to hear something within the hum of the night. The feeling of the hair on the back of your neck raises, a sense of being watched beginning to flood your body.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

“I think someone’s out there…” You try to speak as quietly as possible.

“Probably someone else from the party trying to find somewhere quiet.” Ted whispers back, then calls out towards the noise. “Hey! Spot already taken, find a new one, dudes!”

You know your boyfriend isn’t trying to be dismissive, not trying to make the fear in you rise, but you find yourself trying to hush him anyways. He stands from the edge of the dock, and you find yourself pulling your feet from the lake, water dripping onto the wood.

A low growl escapes the tree line.

“Ted, I don’t think that’s another student.” Your hands are already clutching his forearm, and with another snarl from the darkness, you feel Ted take a step back.

Both of you are wordless, unmoving as a pair of yellow eyes glint in the moonlight from the overgrown brush.

“Ted…” You don’t know what he could even do, but he was your only solace now as the blood in your body beats harder.

Those yellow eyes flick towards you, the sound of your voice and the tremble in your legs already sorting you out as the weaker one. Ted’s arm pulls over your chest protectively, and feel his body brace.

“Can you swim?” His never serious tone has flipped on its head.

“Y-yes.” Is all you can say, fear taking hold in your legs, freezing them to the spot.

You don’t have much time to think as something your eyes can’t even comprehend stalks from the forest towards you. It had the face of a wolf, muzzle too long, teeth too sharp, body too human. Its teeth are bared and ready, hands ending in dark, thick claws. In the split second before its legs are ready to pounce, you feel Ted’s arm push against your chest.

In one moment, you’re frozen to your spot, fear pulsing through you as this creature breaks out in a run, eyes set on you. In the next, the cold, dark lake is taking the breath from your lungs and you watch helplessly as Ted intervenes the wolf from chasing after you. Just as you sink under the blanket of water around you, those sharp, white teeth are glinting in the moonlight and sinking into the shoulder of your boyfriend. Your lovely, sweet, kind boyfriend.

Water fills your mouth, preventing the scream from escaping.

You don’t even want to resurface, don’t even want to fight, but you know you must. Your muscles tense with strength you don’t want to give, arms wildly clutching for support you can’t find. You break through the water with a gasp, choking out the disgusting, earthy taste of the lake from your throat. Your eyes try to find your boyfriend in the darkness, your ears already hear his screaming being dragged farther and farther away from you, snarls interjecting until you hear nothing.

The moon shines down on you, a silent watcher to the night events. The sound of the water slapping against the dock and the cicadas calling out is all you can make out. The horror filling inside you has no escape, nowhere to go, falling deeper and deeper into the pit of your stomach. You float aimlessly, and when you find yourself on shaking legs, gingerly stepping out of the water, you can’t even remember how you got there.

When you stumble back towards the noise of the party, the warm light of the bonfire, no one even notices at first as you make your way there. Your arms held tight around each other, Ted’s orange jacket cold and stuck to your wet skin. Your short, flowy skirt is now suctioned against your bare thighs, and your ponytail drips down your back. You don’t even notice Ted’s blood mixing with lake water on your legs. An arm on your shoulder stops your shuttering walk, and you turn to see the concerned faces of the rest of the party.

“What happened?” One of them asks, concern genuine.

“Oh my god, is that blood?” Someone recoils from the sight.

“You’re soaking wet, where were you?” Along with other hushed inquiries.

You try to speak, but your lip just quivers without answers. The world seems too bright and big by the fire, too many faces in the sea of people beginning to huddle around you, and you doubt even half of them care about you for more than just the gossip. You recoil from hands that are seemingly forever trying to guide you somewhere.

“It…got him.” Is all you could muster as you’ve somehow found yourself sat in the dirt by the fire.

Silence follows after you speak, then hushed tones create a simmering symphony in the small crowd.

“Who? That-that…” they try to remember who you came to the party with, but you know this crowd never even cared to learn Ted’s name. “That boy you were with?”

You don’t get time to answer as a scream breaks out from the edge of the crowd.

“It’s him!” You hear a few people call.

The crowd thins out to look at what new, shiny piece of gossip for Monday they can find, and that’s when you see him.

Ted.

Your loving, wonderful boyfriend, stumbling in from the tree line. You stand, dry dirt caked on your legs, creating stains you’ll never be able to explain to your mom. You don’t even know what to do at first, you watch, feeling as if you’re looking at a ghost. You were so sure he was gone. Tears prick your red eyes, and soon enough they’re falling down your face as you’re running to him.

You see the weariness in Ted’s tired, dark eyes, his mop of brown hair haphazardly in his face, and he leans into you for support when you reach him. You can see the rips in his shirt, see the blood looking black as night, so you reach up a worried hand to apply pressure to his shoulder. All you feel is smooth, tan skin under your fingertips.

“Ted?” Worry furrows your brow.

“I’m alright,” his breath seems heavy, skin sweaty to the touch.

He looks up and sees the crowd, and to your surprise you see his teeth bared, from pain or something else, you don’t know. Then he speaks, low, almost growling, to you.

“Let’s get out of here.”

–-----

You expect the last Monday before summer to be a buzz with rumors of Friday night, that when you walk into school there will be looks, questions, people who can't even begin to understand what really happened out there. As you pass the threshold into the hot halls of San Dimas High, it's as if people are recoiling from you.

Lockers are shut, whispers halt mid sentence, and no one wants to look you in the eye. You feel completely outcast from even pretending to be normal.

What's worse, you haven't heard from Ted since you dropped him off at his house. You haven’t even returned his rusty old van, and he loves that van. You called his line a million times, and no one picked up, not even his dad to tell you to stop calling so much. Helpless doesn't even begin to describe how you feel.

You know how he looked when you dropped him off. Sweat dripping from his hair, his body hot to the touch, hotter than you thought possible. He would try to suppress groans as he directed you to his house, yet insisted on not taking him to the hospital. He stumbled into his door, slamming it behind him before you could even push your way in. You stood there, hair still wet, the cicadas singing a sad chorus to how pitiful you felt.

That was the last time you saw him.

Now, on Monday, as you approach the locker you traded with someone to be closer to his, you half expect him to be there, goofy grin and all making your morning better. Of course, there his locker was, plastered in band stickers and graffiti and…lonely. You hold Ted’s orange jacket closer to you, not having taken it off since Friday. You know how it must look, but you need it. Need to feel like he’s here with you, smell his cheap cologne on the collar, fiddle with the old bic lighter in the pocket.

You feel all eyes on you as you put your things away, but no one says a word. You feel as if you may burst into tears right there from the stress of it all when the bell rings, making you jump. Everyone knows you’re on edge now.

Classes go on, and the silence gets less and less. By lunch, hushed rumors are stirring as you try to find somewhere to sit in peace. You consider taking your tray of unappealing slop to the cheerleaders table, but of course, your typical spot is taken by someone else, signaling that you’re unwelcome. You find half of a table to sit at, and try to make it seem like you're busy by pushing around your food and gingerly biting into a red apple. It tastes like mush.

“I don’t think we'll see him before the end of school.”

“My dad says this happens every few years…”

“Yeah! Mine said his cousin went out on a full moon when they were kids and never came back…”

“Well, I guess the San Dimas curse strikes again.”

“You don't really believe that do you?”

“Either way, that guy’s probably dead.”

“Not that big of a loss, he was a burn out anyways.”

You're standing before you know it, sick of listening to everyone speculate on the person you love most, the only person here who ever cared to get to know who you really were underneath it all. Your tray is promptly dumped and the cafeteria goes hush as you walk with tears falling down your cheeks. You burst through the large, metal doors, and your sneakers squeak as they take you away.

Soon enough, you’re ditching. You know it’s more than possible that your mother will hear about this, and of course, berate you for old habits. If you’re lucky, maybe they won’t care at the end of the year. Either way, you have to know, have to find the answers that kept you from finding a wink of sleep these past 48 hours. You burst out of the school into the hot, humid air outside. Everything smells thick after the rain of the weekend, petrichor and musky. You don’t even have a car, you just let your feet beat on the hot pavement towards Ted’s house.

You two have walked back to his place countless times since you moved here, especially since you could never take him back to your house. The world is a blur of neighborhoods and mid-afternoon traffic. You don’t stop until your hand is raised at Ted’s door, ready to pound, but before you can even lay a knuckle there, the door opens, just a slice.

“Ted?” You whisper, knowing his dad is at work now, and his little brother in school.

A moment passes without a word from the otherside of the door. Maybe his dad is home, maybe something bad really did happen. You hope more than anything it’s him.

”I can’t come out.” You hear his voice, raspy and low, and for a moment you don’t think it’s really him.

“What?” You ask puzzled, moving your head to try to get a better look inside the small sliver of door that’s open. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

“I’m not feeling well. I don’t want to…” He pauses for a long moment. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Hurt me? What the hell does he mean by that?

“Ted, you won’t hurt me, I don’t care if you’re sick, I just wanna make sure you’re okay!” You begin to ramble, anything that keeps him talking, and potentially lets you see him.

“Go home, babe.” You can tell it kills him to say it, his voice choking up, those three words getting caught in his throat.

“I’m not going home until you tell me what’s going on, Ted Logan!” You stomp your foot without even thinking, folding your arms across your chest.

Ted says nothing. In fact, he does the single most heartbreaking thing you can think of.

He closes the door.

“Ted!” You yell, you pound on the door.

There is no response.

No matter how much you call for him, he ignores you, so you say the only thing you can think that might get to him.

“Ted, you open this door right this minute or we are OVER!”

The door swings open.

Ted, standing there in only his sweatpants, dark circles under his eyes, looking more tired than you could imagine a 18 year old boy could look. His hair is damp, plastered to his forehead as if feverish. His breath is heaving. He looks nothing like your sweet, gentle boyfriend you’ve come to know and love.

“I said,” He speaks to you in a tone he’s never done before, half begging, half demanding. “Leave…”

You stand there, confused, mouth open, unsure what to say, but not moving.

“Leave!” He snarls again, louder, hand hitting the doorframe loudly, making you flinch.

As cruel as his voice is being with you right now, his eyes say something different. He looks as if it’s all he can do to get you away from him, truly believing it for your own good.

You begin to speak, and Ted turns rapidly, slamming the front door with all his might, house seeming to shake from the impact.

That was it.

That was all you could do. Come here, try to help him, but if he wanted you away, then he got it.

You turn, walking down the sidewalk with your arms around yourself, shame and embarrassment and heartbreak heating your face and ears. You suppose you’ve lost your boyfriend after that, and over god knows what. You don’t understand what’s happening at all. You thought you did everything a good girlfriend would, but maybe you made a mistake. And even if you did, could you two not talk about it? You let out a half sob as the pain in your heart tenses up, holding your breath to try to keep it in until you can safely let it all out.

Tears of hurt and anger slip down your face. Frustrated, you make your way home.

That was the last time you saw Ted Logan, for a while, at least.

————

The end of your senior year came and went. The talk died down, and just like predicted, Ted never returned to school for his final days. You knew he was alive, at the very least, but nothing else.

Graduation took place on a Saturday, a week or so after the last day. Everyone else cheered, watched as the schools wolf mascot was finally revealed to be some half popular nerd, the valedictorian gave a speech about how the best days of our lives were yet to come, threw their caps in the air when it was all said and done.

You sat, holding your diploma and hat, finger tracing the square edge while thinking about how Ted was supposed to be here. You two worked so hard to get his grades up so he could pass and his dad wouldn’t send him away to Alaska for military school. Maybe he really went through with that threat, for all you knew.

Either way, it had been a month since you had seen Ted Logan.

A month of lonely nights, your hidden stash of weed getting smaller and smaller as you self medicate in your room, and still you think of him. You blow smoke out the window at night, sometimes thinking you heard the sounds of rustling leaves out there, then dismissing it.

Who would want to stalk around your suburban home anyways?

————

You soon got tired of being holed up in the house all summer, and find it surprisingly easy to call up some of your old school friends to see what everyone else has been up to. You thought after everything that went down last time, you would be a social outcast. Turns out, they were more than willingly to invite you, some even more than vocal about wondering where you’d been. You know they have no real care for your wellbeing, but decide to go to one of the jocks upcoming parties.

And that’s how you find yourself anxious to see anyone other than your mother on a Friday night. You curl the ends of your high ponytail so the curls bounce at the nape of your neck, blow drying a mess of bangs in the front until they look pristine. A baby blue mini dress and some pumps later, and you’re feeling a bit more like yourself for the first time in a while. You finish everything off with a bow on your hair tie the color of marshmallows.

Soon enough, you’re driving to the outskirts of San Dimas, letting the A/C keep you cool on this June night. Some farm boy jock was hosting a barn party way out here, and you knew it was probably stupid to come. Best case, everyone feels to awkward to interact with you, worst case, they ask you questions incessantly about Ted’s disappearance and the last outing you were at.

Still, somehow, you tell yourself, this is better than Friday night alone watching reruns on the family T.V.

The moon is almost full, an orange hue clear and bright in the sky, it’s light guiding you to your destination.

It is easier than you thought to find your way there, despite not knowing the area. A few wrong turns and a right, and you’re pulling into the grass front lawn with 20 other cars or so. The barn is already lit up, spilling light and sound from inside. You open your door, struck with the heat of the night, already feeling your makeup begin to melt into your skin. Heels weren’t the best idea for the terrain, but at least you looked hot.

You pass a few straggling people hanging on the front porch of the old farm house, and one calls you over.

“Hey!” You see a few semi familiar faces, but hardly know them other than going to school together for the last few months.

They seem to know you though, so you walk up the groaning old wooden steps, and smile. Before you can even speak, one of the girls interrupts, as if she would explode if she didn’t say it.

“So, you like, have no idea about the San Dimas curse, huh?”

”Come on, Jenny, don’t get into that.” Her presumed boyfriend groans, and ‘Jenny’ keeps going.

“No, but for real, like you’re new so you wouldn’t know right?” You can see she’s dying to tell you more, so you simply shake you head.

“Curse? What curse?” You try to say casually, your interest piqued, but not wanting to show it.

“Oh here we go…!” Another girl groans, then reaches into a cooler next to her, handing you a can of beer. “Here, you’ll need this to get through this one.”

Everyone laughs before Jenny gets their attention back.

“Hey! Hey! She’s the newbie, so she deserves to know, especially after everything that happened…” As she trails, everyone looks to see your reaction, but you’re looking down at the condensation on the cold can.

“Alright, well, I’m all ears.” You shrug, looking back up, meeting their eyes.

“So,” Jenny turns serious. “San Dimas has this, like, ‘curse’, right? I mean, we don’t really know what else to call it, but that seems right enough.”

“Anyways, every ten years or so, someone goes missing. Not that unusual, sure, that just happens sometimes, but it seems to happen like clock work, okay?” Her blue eyes are big, like she really believes this, but the crowd still has unsure snickers of doubt. “Well, that’s not the only odd part, is it? No, because it happens whenever the moon is full-“

A jock grabs his buddy and annoyingly cuts Jenny off with a howl.

“Hush! It’s true, okay! They always go missing during the full moon. Always in the woods, always mysteriously. Not to mention, the sightings!” Jenny continues, trying to tame the crowd in her favor. “Folks say there’s something stalking out in those woods, something big, something not human. Say it’s got claws, teeth sharper than a dogs, head like a-“

“Oh yes, the werewolf sightings, told by old men who don’t even remember what they saw out there.” A few agreeable sounds follow the jocks interruption.

“Well, that’s what I’m saying! She saw it!” Jenny points to you like you’re her key to all this, her evidence that the curse is real. “You did, didn’t you? What did you see out there when that thing took your boyfriend?”

All eyes turn to you, all curious to hear, to know what you really saw. Dark flashes from that night bubble up in your mind, flashes of that beast, biting into Ted and dragging him away. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Just as you might have had an answer on the tip of your tongue, someone interrupts you.

“You don’t really believe those old stories do you?” You turn, your heart already racing at the sound of that voice.

His voice.

Ted Logan stands on the porch of the old farm house with a grin. Everyone is silent as Ted’s eyes graze across your body, practically eating you up where you stand. The yellow of the naked bulb above seeps into his dark eyes, and for a second you think there’s something wrong with them. No, must be the lights, playing tricks on your eyes. Ted watches you closely, examining your reaction.

“Besides, not much of a curse when the ‘missing person’ is right here.” Another voice joins Ted, and you notice someone with Ted.

Everyone waits to see where this will go, the social pressure to speak building up in you. Ted always knew you hated being the center of attention like this, and you watch as he smirks at your unease, almost exuding cockiness, but you can’t believe it. Your Ted Logan? He would never act in such a way…

Ted holds out a hand.

“Why don’t we speak somewhere more privately.” His voice is more serious now, tone lower.

You know you should just stay here, ignore him after everything he’s done, but you find your hand in his warm, large one, leading you away. Your heels click off the porch onto the grass as the crowd you’ve left begins to dissect what’s just happened. The man Ted arrived with follows, and you frown towards his direction.

“Who is he?” Your eyes narrow at the stranger, hair bouncing as you walk towards the back of the barn with them.

“He’s my…my…” Ted can’t seem to find the right word..

“Cousin.” The other responds, a devilish grin on his lips.

“R-right! Cousin!” Ted affirms. “This is Bill.”

Cousin? This guy was like a foot shorter than Ted, big blue eyes, and a mess of blond curls on top. They looked nothing alike, and yet, there was something…An aura of sorts, if you had to describe it. Something that seemed to link the two, either in attitudes or something else your basic senses couldn’t pick up on. Either way, you doubted more than anything they were cousins, and you were going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.

”I don’t know who you think you are showing up out of nowhere like nothing happened, Ted!” You hiss in his direction as you all round the corner of the barn, and Bill snickers at your remark.

“Relax, babe, can’t you just be happy to see me?” Ted scoffs at your attitude, making your rage grow.

You can’t help yourself, you slap him.

Your hand leaves a hot mark behind on his cheek,

“Babe? That’s what you think you’re going to call me after dropping me for a month? Let me worry about if you’re hurt, if you’re sick, if dead? No, you don’t get to call me that, Ted, that’s reserved for boyfriends who actually give a fuck to contact their girlfriends after being dragged into the woods by a damn wolf!” The anger is really welling up inside you now, but you can’t stop it, not now.

“So, no, you don’t get to call me babe after all that! As far as I’m concerned, we are not dating anymore!” You could keep going but the way Ted’s looking at you has you stopping in your tracks.

“Wouldn’t have done that if I were you…” Bill chuckles behind Ted, lighting a cigarette without much care for how the situation goes.

Ted, however, is shaking. No, not shaking, vibrating. He stares you down through thick strands of dark hair, breath heaving, shoulders raised, looking at you as if he wanted to tear you apart. The moonlight casts shadows on his face that make something in your stomach churn with a moment of true fear.

A deep growl echoes from somewhere inside his chest, and Bill puts a hand on his shoulder. Bill looks you in the eyes with his icy blues and throws a nod towards the rest of civilization out here.

“You should go back to the party now, girlie.” He says with a fake smile at the end, dropping it and whispering something into Ted’s ear that makes him back off.

The two of them turn and walk deeper into the darkness, and you’re left standing there once again.

————

Anger is still coursing through your veins, your head not thinking properly. You don’t even want to go home, you want release from all of this. You want something different, anything.

You rejoin the party in the barn this time, and the crowd dances to music someone has set up out here. It doesn’t matter to you much what’s playing as long as it’s loud and it’s fast. You walk over to a table that hosts various amounts of liquor and find yourself a few shots deep very quickly. Heat pours through your veins, making you feel tingly all over as the alcohol begins to hit, and you join the crowd.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the beat, winding your body in ways that you haven’t done in months now, your dress riding up shorter and shorter as you go. Soon enough, someone’s hands have caught your hips and begun grinding them into their crotch. You don’t recoil, instead, grinding back, letting their mouth find a home at your neck. If you and Ted really were broken up now, then you might as well have some fun.

You let the strangers hands wander your body, groping where they please, enjoying how the liquor feels when you move against another warm body. Sweat begins to prick your skin as you continue, and soon your mysterious stranger is whispering filthy things in your ears. Things you and Ted never even got around to doing since he used to be shy about such things, which you also used to find cute.

Now, it was like you didn’t even know him.

You shake your head with anger as the thought of Ted comes back up, trying to get back into the groove with your dance partner, but of course that too is interrupted when he is forcibly pulled from you. You pause mid dance, confusion filling your drunk mind. You turn on wobbly heels, and see those eyes, and this time it can’t be the lights making them so yellow.

Ted grabs your wrist, pulling you into his body, glowering at you.

“That’s how you’re going to get back at me?” He snidely whispers in your ear.

“What? Not like you wanted me anymore, anyways.” You cruelly throw back, turning your nose up at him to leave.

He holds you fast.

“Who said I didn’t want you anymore…?” His voice almost sounds hurt, and you try to get a read on his face.

For a second, you’re almost convinced the old Ted was back by how soft he looked right now.

You open your mouth to retaliate anyways, spiteful as always, just like your mother always warned about, but instead, Ted pulls you even closer, until your lips are almost touching, his breath mingling with yours, eyes staring deep into your soul.

“Trust me,” His voice is smoother now, hot and full of want. “I want you.”

You blink, trying to make sense of the situation, but with the alcohol pumping through your system and a history of bad decisions, you can’t stop yourself. You let your lips graze his, not even full on kissing him, just giving permission. And that’s enough for Ted.

Enough for him to let his soft, warm, silky lips crush against yours, the want so strong he has to hold himself back with every muscle in his body, arms clutching you tightly. He devours you with his kiss, and it’s almost hard for you to keep up with his lips. He pulls you onto his leg, spreading your thighs so you can ride him there, your dress now fully exposing your ass and pale blue checkered panties. His hands grip your hips, pulling you towards him and away, letting his bent knee create friction down there.

It takes everything inside you to pull away from his kiss, your chest heaving and almost ready to fall out of your dress at this rate.

“Not-Not…” You say breathlessly as you notice a few prying eyes in the crowd. “Not here…”

Ted gives you a look that sends a chill straight to your pussy.

A look that says “I would fuck you right here, right now, in front of everyone if you just gave me permission.”

And even worse.

“I might do it anyway if you don’t get us out of here quickly.”

You’re stumbling out into the woods outside of the barn before you know it. Ted half carries you the whole time, your legs wrapped around his waist as he takes you deeper away from everyone else. Your head knows this is dangerous, knows something about Ted is off, something is wrong, but you need this. You’ve been needing this, ever since he left. Maybe even before then.

Your back ends up crushed against a tree, the bark scraping against your bare shoulders there. Ted breathes heavily into your neck, no, not breathing. Inhaling. Smelling you so deeply before a moan escapes his lips.

“Fuck…” He growls in your ear. “Fuck, I-I need you so bad…”

It’s as if he can’t even get the right words out to describe it, as if it’s painful how badly he needs to fuck you. He’s hungry for you in ways you couldn’t begin to understand.

He grinds himself between your legs, and you can feel how hard he is against your pussy and stomach. His hands go down your shoulders, and you wonder when his nails got so long, the feeling of them almost clawing into your skin turning you on. He quickly pulls your dress down, exposing your breasts to his hands, where he gropes you deeply, the softness of your skin contrasting his.

You let his tongue linger in your mouth, tasting him deeply as he ruts against you, cock needing to be released. You help him, hands drunk and fumbling with his belt. Once his cock is out, you feel the head with your hand, and for a moment, you can hardly believe how big it is.

Ted’s kissing on your neck deepens, teeth grazing the skin there as you stroke his thick cock, using both hands and letting him support your weight. You don’t remember his teeth being so long, not to mention sharp, and just as your thinking of pulling way to get a better look at him, as his growling begins to reach a breaking point, you feel his teeth graze too deeply, biting into the tender flesh of your throat.

You let out a whimper, the feeling of pain mixing with pleasure. Ted takes this as an invitation, hand reaching down to your panties, and with one claw, tearing them in two. You shudder at the thought of how sharp they are and being so close to your most private parts as he checks how wet you are with one finger.

Ted pulls back from where he’s left a mark on your neck, looking you in the eyes. His face has changed, his eyes bright yellow, his teeth on full display and sporting your blood. Others may have screamed, tried to free themselves from his grip, but the monstrous look he was sporting had you weak in the knees. You shudder with pleasure as he places his cock at your entrance, the tip feeling way too big to fit even before it’s in. He seems to pause, for a just a moment, as if the human part of him can hold back just barely.

He’s waiting for you to say yes.

You nod with wanton want, and that’s all it takes. His cock is entering you, a tight fit that leaves you moaning in pain and pleasure as it stretches you beyond what you thought your limits were. You grip his back, feeling yourself already full without even having the entirety of his cock inside of you yet. What little of himself he could hold back before is gone now as he takes one small pull back from being inside you, and slams the force of his cock back where he left and then some. You cry out, trying to move to accommodate such a hefty cock, but failing.

You slip one hand down to your clit to try to tame the pain into pleasure once more, Ted’s cock filling you again and again as he takes you right there in the woods. Your hand circles your clit as best as you can, feeling yourself relax into the process of being fucked by an animal of a man.

Ted’s cock seems to grow even bigger inside of you, the base swelling as he fucks you, making it harder and harder for him to pull out of you. It’s as if you’re being infinitely filled by him as he clumsily tries to fuck you harder. His growls deepen, and as he gets closer he sinks his teeth back into the half moons he left in your shoulder earlier. You cry out as he tastes you, practically tearing you in two with his cock and his teeth, but shudder closer to climax from it all. You furiously play with yourself, free hand gripping your own breast as if the action could hold you in, hold you together for just a few more moments of the pleasure his cock fills you with at the moment.

You buck into him, his cock rutting deeper and deeper, no thoughts of the fact that he’s about to spill his seed inside you without protection, no thoughts of the teeth in your shoulder that tries to hold you still to be fucked. Only that blissful feeling of being so full you can hardly take it. So stretched out and how well that feels when you play with your clit just like that. It brings you closer and closer until you’re spilling over the edge, spamming on his cock that breeds itself into you without care.

As if he’d been waiting for you to finish, before you’ve even finished cumming the first time, Ted growls deeper than you’ve heard all night, jaw locking into your shoulder and popping his growing knot deep enough it won’t come out into you. You keep your hand busy on your clit, not ready to give this up with just one round just yet, as Ted cums deeply inside you. It’s hot, thick, and filling somewhere you’ve never been filled before. You feel it begin to seep out around his knot despite his best efforts to keep you filled, the amount of cum just too much for your body. You lose yourself in the feeling, cumming again, pussy spasming and tightening against his cock.

Worn out and overstimulated, you feel yourself being pulled from the tree. You fall on top of Ted, his knot still wedged deeply inside you with no hope of coming out soon. You straddle his body, where he lays against the dirt of the forest, breathless and staring up at the moon. It takes him a few breaths to look at you.

“So,” You say, chest heavy and pussy throbbing. “You’re a werewolf?”

He gulps in air, and almost tries to speak, then just nods, staring at you for your reaction.

After everything, you look at your boyfriend. You see his puppy dog eyes, his soft lips pursed slightly with worry, that shaggy overgrown hair. You consider it all.

“Okay.” You say affirmatively.

“Okay?” His voice is full of husk and confusion.

“Okay. Werewolf. I can deal with that.” You smile only slightly, and Ted smiles back, the Ted you know and love shining before you.

He pulls you in, tongue lapping at your neck where he bit you, and to your surprise, the bite begins to heal itself quite quickly.

“Werewolf powers.” You whisper to him and he laughs. ”Guess the San Dimas curse is true.”

“Guess I found out the hard way.” Ted whispers, half joking, half pained by the situation.

You two lay there, the moonlight devouring the scene beneath it, breathless and full. Ted’s cock throbs so deeply in your pussy you can’t imagine a time it wasn’t there. The exquisite feeling of fullness has you on cloud nine, and you can’t help but love the feeling of being so close in his arms. The way his languid hands slowly run circles on your back, the relaxed feeling of his softness almost overwhelming you along with every other sensation. You feel tears begin to well up as a release of emotions comes over you.

Ted hears a small sob hiccup in your throat, and holds you even closer, your face buried in his neck. You don’t even need anything to tell you that your soft, sweet, kind Ted was coming out now, you just knew. You knew the way he held you on top of him, letting all your weight into his body, the way his hands comforted you in ways no one else could.

You pull your face away from his, and he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, kisses up every tear that’s fallen. His lips move against your skin, his breath tickling your face, and soon enough you realize he’s whispering something.

You can’t tell what until he kisses your ears, lingering there.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t tell you, I didn’t know how…” Pain seeps out of every word.

You pull his face back to yours so you can look into those brown eyes of his.

“Ted ‘Theodore’ Logan, don’t you ever lie to me again, you hear me?” You say sternly, and he nods, tears now welling up in his eyes, but not yet fallen.

“Never.” He promises, and somehow you know it to be true.

You collapse into his chest, letting the emotions of the night overcome you, Ted there to comfort you through it all. You fall mindlessly asleep, worn out and waiting for Ted’s knot to go down. You still can’t believe your boyfriend is a werewolf, but at least you got him back.

At some point, Ted takes you home, somehow transporting you all the way without waking you until the very end. You wake in the middle of being placed into his bed.

He pushes your bangs out of your face gently, kisses your forehead, then climbs into bed next you, letting your body relax into his before the two of you begin to gently fall back asleep. You hear him whisper in your ear before you fall asleep.

“I love you.”

[beatrixstonehill2]

"I can't believe this is happening to me! It's so disgusting I can't stand it. And to make matters worse my big sweaty cock gets harder and more needy with every pound I pile on. When I started transitioning I was so hot. Perfect, really. My cock was only one inch. I was thinking of having the tiny thing removed, maybe. But my many boyfriends seemed to like rubbing it and slapping it as they came in my tight, perky ass. Everything was going so well! I was the girl I always dreamed of being, ultra girly, putting most cis girls to shame with how traditionally feminine I was, absolutely filthy, always down 100% of the time to please any guy that wanted me. Anywhere in public, I was never a prude. If a man lifted my skirt or dress to fuck my ass in public, I'd lift it higher for them and tell them to go as hard as they want. If a guy exposed himself at me and jerked off, I'd rush over to suck him off or offer my ass. I was the perfect girl! And then this happened.....

So, guys love to dote on girls they date. And I, boy crazy as I was, loved going on dates with as many boys as possible. Multiple times a day. I didn't really think my love of taking boys on dates out very much. More proof I'm a perfect girl--I'm pretty ditzy and stupid..... I was taking each boy out and they'd have one meal and that's it. I'd go from eating pizza, to bottomless pasta bowls, to a Chinese buffet, to all-you-can-eat wings. I couldn't very well disappoint my dates and not put on a show. Men love a dirty, pretty girl who can keep up with their eating, and drinking! I of course drank whole pitchers of beer with most meals. I started noticing I was getting kind of messy. I wouldn't wipe my face or hands off as eagerly, staying as pretty as possible mattered less than putting on a show and stuffing my face for these guys, knowing it made their cocks soooo hard to see me overeat!

I began belching, sometimes even drinking so much beer I'd soil myself, and just giggle about it. Overeating made me so horny. But I didn't realize how badly I was neglecting my feminine side..... I started forgetting my estrogen, I ate so much red meat and other foods it triggered my body to release testosterone. My cock started getting big, so did my testicles. Soon, I, this once petite pretty girl, was pushing 200lbs, hung bigger than most men that fucked me. My erections became impossible to hide. Worse yet, I'd ejaculate prematurely as the worst times. Like some horny junior high kid, I'd talk to a cute guy, and instead of being in control, sexy, dominant and confident in my body, I'd be chubby, sweaty, stuttering, and ejaculate mid conversation with no warning, having to apologize.....

Men still loved it, and found the grosser, fatter version of me equally as hot, but now a new issue arose..... The men that took me out on dates and fucked me weren't just gym dudes who liked to see a woman keep up once in a while, these guys wanted me fatter. I wasn't eating five meals a night like before. I was eating four or five meals at one restaurant, then I'd get picked up by the next guy and have to force down another four or five. I've gone from 210lbs to 340lbs in just six months. I'm ballooning so fast none of my old cute clothes fit. Nothing does. I wear clothes a few sizes bigger now because I know I'm just going to get fatter. It makes me so hard thinking of how fat and disgusting I'm becoming. I don't need my hands to cum at all, I just need to stuff my face and picture myself double this size and my fouteen-inch monster cock shoots rope after rope of cum, which I don't bother cleaning. I reek of semen and sweat all the time and my boyfriends love how bad I stink.....

I used to dance and be super active, fuck with loads of energy. Now I just gorge myself, making gross moans, belching and farting constantly, bathing only a couple times a month.... I don't really do my hair or makeup or try to look cute. I'm just a fat slob. I eat as men fuck me. I hardly move. If I try to ride them they stop me and tell me not to burn any excess calories. I just get chauffeured from date to date, eat so much I occasionally puke all over my big fat gut, only to order more and keep eating. I get fucked as I keep eating. I'm not a cute, sexy girl anymore. I never will be again. I'm a disgusting whale. A blimp, getting bigger every day, piling on as much lard as possible to please all of my feeders. Someday I'll be immobile, and they'll probably take turns caring for me as I stuff my face, hooked up to oxygen, my heart pounding through my chest. My cock over twenty inches long but so buried in lard it probably just looks like feminine little nub again. I'll have no choice but to get as fat as I possibly can, to satisfy their cocks, and my own..... I know it's my destiny. I already get completely winded just walking up one flight of stairs. My heart pounds like I ran a marathon, my belly and saggy tits drenched in sweat. I'm so disgusting. But I have no choice..... Like I said, I'm the perfect girl, I'm only interested in being exactly what other boys want me to be. And if boys want me to be a giant pile of moaning lard? A good girl like me has no choice....."