#&i was bitching about it to security on my way out the door-- to drive him home. again.-- &our security guy was like

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[magpiepills]

Got Your Money

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Clint x sex worker!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: you’re a hooker who owes her pimp money and his right hand man, Clint comes to collect.

Warnings: SMUT! Including but not limited to: Porn with minimal plot, dub con, mean Clint, name calling and degradation, unprotected PIV, misogyny, rough sex, creampie, big dick, no beta, no proofreading, typos are all my own. You know what I’m about.

A word from the author: thanks to @youandmeand5bucks for the prompt that has had me in a tizzy for several days!

Masterlist

You’d barely made it past the front door when he knocked. Your dress was half unzipped down your back and your heels were left on the carpet where you’d stepped out of them.

It gave you pause. Nobody knocks this late. Not in this neighborhood. Not when you do the kind of work you do. You never did business here. You were careful and discrete and so was Angelo. He hustled and bargained and sold your ass for as much as he could. He made a pretty penny and paid for that Coupe Deville he liked to drive real slow around town when he took his cut, and he gave himself a very generous cut. He was a greedy son of a bitch, but he knew he better treat his top girl right. He wouldn’t put you at risk by letting anyone know where you stayed stashed away.

“I saw you walk in two minutes ago and I know you hear me. Open the fucking door,” the voice on the other side growled with the barest restraint. Clint. Of course.

You rolled your eyes and unlocked the door but kept the security chain latched, giving Clint three inches of room to say whatever dumb shit he needed to before he left to go back in whatever squalid shack he stayed in until Angelo yanked his chain too.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit, open the fucking door,” he boomed through the gap. “I’m coming in one way or another. You want your door on the hinges or off?”

He’s always like this.

You mutter under your breath at him coming between you and a hot bath after a long day, but you open the door anyway. He’s a fucking asshole but you know he’s safe. Angelo doesn’t trust many people anymore.

Clint pushes into your living room while you lock the door behind him, replacing the little chain that seems sort of useless now that you think about it. He stands in the middle of the room, hands on his slim hips, looking around. It offends you.

“What do you want, Clint? I had a long day and I’m going to bed. This better be important.��

His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip as he looks at you with that cold, detached look he likes to wear but doesn’t answer. Infuriating.

“Ok, just make yourself at home, then. I’m going to bed.” You turn a quarter step and tug up your sagging strapless dress, red, garish like they always like and aim casually for your bedroom.

“Let’s make this quick sweetheart. You know what the fuck I’m here for. Don’t play dumb. It’s dangerous.”

“Fuck off, Clint. I’m not doing this with you tonight,” you run your hand over your hair in exasperation and wished you’d never opened that door.

“Oh yeah?” he spits. “Tired after a long day of sucking and fucking? Yeah I bet you’re real worn out.”

In a fraction of a second your hand lands square across his scarred cheek, catching him by surprise and he’s a lot faster than you’d expect him to be for a man who smokes like a chimney and has all that grey hair. He grabs your wrist before you can run or defend yourself and twists your arm around your waist until he’s got your back to his chest and his arm braced against your now bare tits in a too-tight hold.

“Where’s the money?” He is too loud next to your ear and you wince, trying to be as cool as you can. Of course he wants the money. Good luck, you think to yourself. You learned a long time ago about keeping much cash around.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Clint. If Angelo sent you, you can tell him he’s got his cut. He’s never the one with rug burns. He gets his share and I get mine.”

It does nothing but instigate Clint further. He shakes you. “Do you think I’m stupid? You think you’re the first whore who tried to short a pimp?” He is hot with anger. He wanted to be at home too. He’s old and he’s tired but maybe he doesn’t mind so much since your dress has slipped down and he has the perfect view of your tits over your shoulder. Angelo never said he couldn’t have a little fun on the job.

To your shock and surprise, Clint slaps your breast. It stings before he soothes it with his big bear paw palm covering the welt he left and squeezing. You can’t stop the whine that creeps from your throat.

“If you don’t have the money I guess I gotta take it out in trade.”

You pant nervously, wriggling in his arms at the insinuation. Clint smiles against your neck and sinks his teeth into the slope of your shoulder just enough to make you whine for him.

“Just business. Doesn’t have to hurt if you can play nice. You know I’ve seen you playin real nice before.” You can feel him thickening against you, the length of him jutting against the cleft of your ass. You try half heartedly to shake out of his arms, but it just makes him laugh. “Alright. Act like you don’t want it. Like I can’t smell you dripping. Take dick all day long and you’re still ready for more,” he drags his hand across your sensitive nipple and up to your throat, pressing just softly against your pulse. “I can feel your heart beating and I know it’s not cause you’re scared.”

His hand moves again, moving down, over your belly and the fabric bunches around your waist. He helps himself to your body, rubbing and pinching. He pushes your dress down the rest of the way, letting it drop to the floor around your feet and covers your mound with his hand. You don’t realize that your head has tipped back against his shoulder as he spits you unceremoniously with two fingers.

He pulls them back out and holds his slick shiny fingers in front of your face so you can see your arousal stretching between his fingers. “Look at that. I know Angelo won’t let anybody bust in this pussy. This is all you, baby. Slick as fuck.”

He crudely sucks your wetness from his fingers and pulls you down with him when he flops down onto your sofa, pretty and creamy and soft, a stark contrast to his roughness, his dark, plaid.

“Does Angelo even know you’re here? You think he’s gonna let you come over here and threaten me?” You struggle against his hold, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Clint shifts you over to unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans, freeing his turgid member.

“Angelo’s the one who told me where to find you. Told me how good you ride him, too,” He says as he positions you back over his lap with his cock hot and hard as steel against your throbbing pussy. “You owe Angelo, Angelo owes me. So I think we can sort this out right here and now.” You can’t help the way your body heats. The men you see are often rough. They pound into you and take you with harsh strokes on half limp dicks, blaming you when they can’t stay hard. They want you to watch them or they want to watch you or they cry with their heads in your lap.

They don’t talk to you like this. They don’t use their cockhead to rub your clit until you’re moving your hips yourself to chase the pleasure the way Clint’s doing now. He covers his impossibly thick length in your slippery wetness, spreading it all around.

“You gonna give it to me, or am I gonna take it?” he asks with a sharp swat against your ass.

You lick your lips and close your eyes, you’re still focused on how big he feels between your legs as you sigh. “Take it,” you breathed.

He was going to do it anyway. He presses you down on his cock, stealing your breath with the sheer size of him. He takes a moment with his hands firm on your hips, pushing down and thrusting up to full depth, holding you there, giving you that deep ache that so many men can’t.

Before you could even get your head around the way he stretched you past what you thought was possible, he was driving into you with enough force to make you wail. You were grateful that such noise wasn’t something that would raise an alarm in this building. People minded their business.

You arched your back and planted your feet on his thighs for a little control, but Clint was in charge.

“Yeah, that’s right. You feel this cock all the way in your throat? You still want to act like a bitch?”

You whined a response to his vulgar talk but he didn’t care. He liked hearing how fucked up you were on his cock.

“Fuck,” he shoved your knees down. “fuck your self on this dick.” You rebalanced on shaky legs and slowly slid your swollen, soaked pussy up and down the length of him. His hands found your ass and slapped it while you worked him up and down, making your skin sting and heat. “Come on, you got a debt to pay. Show me what this little whore pussy’s worth.” Your thighs trembled, and Clint grew impatient.

“Up,” he commanded. You stood and he shoved you toward your bedroom, following close behind you.

The streetlight shone in the window, casting stripes of light and shadow through your blinds and across the bed. You crossed your arms over your chest as Clint undressed himself, clothes heaped on the floor, along with his heavy boots. He scoffed at the way you tried to hide your body. “Get on the bed. Lay down.”

You climbed to the middle of your queen size bed, neatly made as it was every morning, with your heart shaped pillow between the two regular pillows, the chenille bedspread tucked in just so. Clint stood at the end of your bed, stroking himself while he inspected your body.

“Legs up. Spread your pussy for me. Let me see how fucked open you are.”

You drew your knees up and rubbed your clit in a messy circle, then dipped two fingers into your wet hole, followed by a third that made you groan. “You’re so fucking sick, Clint.”

“Yeah? I’m sick? You’re the one selling her greedy snatch in the street. Spread your pussy.” You did as he said, your manicured fingernails framing your delicate folds, swollen and wet so he could see how your entrance clenched for him.

“Look at that,” he marveled sarcastically, "Angelo's million dollar pussy.” He stared at your body, then spat, a thick glob of saliva dripped over your nails and mixed with your arousal. “You’re never gonna be happy with another dick again. You’ll be begging me to come over and shut you up.”

Clint tapped his cock against your pussy and entered you in one powerful thrust, bottoming out while he held the back of your knees. He leaned over you, folding you in half to hammer hard and fast, punching into your squelching pussy. He grunted above you, his body warm and sweat gathering along his hairline.

“Clint!” you yelped, nails cutting into his biceps. “Clint!” You couldn’t get out the words you needed. He kept you pinned in place while he devoured you, making the pressure and heat you felt grow.

“That’s it, say my name. Tell everybody in the place who’s got you screaming like a bitch.”

You felt delirious, your body was all raw nerves and that familiar pressure, until one snap of his hips and scrape of his coarse hair over your clit did you in. Your orgasm was intense. Rippling and wet and hot, you were suspended in protracted pleasure. You didn’t even notice Clint was coming too, pumping you full. He never even offered to wear a condom, and you kicked yourself for not insisting. Of course he wouldn’t have worn one, he never does.

Clint slipped out of you, followed by a trickle of cum that dripped onto your sheets. As you caught your breath, your body limp and exhausted, he pushed your knees apart and spread your tender pussy with his thick thumbs.

“I wish I had a camera,” he said with an ugly pride. “Bet you this pussy won’t ever be the same now.”

Without sentimentality, Clint got dressed, tied his boots, and turned to where you remained on your bed and said with a sinister wink “We’ll call that a partial payment.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Boo Fucking Hoo: Frank Langdon x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @travelingmypassion @julius-ceasar

Companion piece to:

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Crash - Almost getting you fired wasn't the lowest point of Frank's addiction.

Rock Bottom - Frank hits rock bottom when he sees the devastation his addiction's caused.

Little Black Dress - Frank starts to spiral when he realises you're dating.

Every Damn Day - A drunk text leads to a confession.

Wet Dream (NSFW) - Frank sometimes dreams about the life you had together.

War Stories - A realisation about your coping habits leads you to Frank's door.

The Three Cs - Frank and you finally discuss your issues and pave away towards the future.

The Wall - A date at the climbing wall leads to a revelation from Frank.

Commitment - You create a fun way of showing Frank your commitment to the relationship.

All In (NSFW) - You and Frank take a big step forward.

Slut (NSFW) - Frank gets a little bratty after a bad day.

Nightmare Fuel - Frank's been waiting for the fall to come.

The fight starts when the partner of one of your SA patients attacks you outside by the ambulance bay. You don’t see it coming, you’re too busy scrolling through your phone, catching up on the group chat when you’re slammed against the brick work of the building. Your head bounces off the wall, your phone shattering on the concrete, as a huge hand encloses around your throat, choking off your air supply. Something warm trickles down the back of your neck, blood you assume from a scalp laceration.

“She fucking left me.” A man you’ve never met before spits in your face, his fingers dig into your tender flesh as his grip tightens and stars dance across your vision. “I wanna know where the fuck she is.”

This, you think, this is why we shouldn’t put staff pictures on the website.

You have absolutely no clue who he’s talking about. You’ve examined dozens of women over the past couple of weeks and 50% of their injuries were due to partner violence.

You rasp something and his grasp loosens as he leans in close struggling to hear you. “Spit it out bitch.”

“Go to hell.” You snarl, smashing the crown of your head into his nose just like you were taught in self-dense class. A loud crunch erupts through the air as he reels backwards, blood ejecting from his nose. You follow up with a knee strike, driving it into his groin so hard that he’ll be singing soprano for the rest of his life. His knees go out from underneath him and he crumples to the floor, one hand cupping his balls, the other cradling his broken nose.

“Not so fucking fun when they fight back is it asshole?” You hiss, your throat raw from the choking. “I don’t know who the fuck she is but I’m glad she had the strength to put you in her rear view.”  

“You fucking bitch, I think you ruptured something!” He curses at you, his cheek pressed against the concrete, beaten and helpless.

“Boo fucking hoo.” You respond as the automatic doors hiss behind you open and Ahmed, the security officer rushes out into the bay.

“I saw the whole thing on the screens.” He informs you pointedly, snatching up the radio off his belt. You know what that means, he’s got the footage to back you up when this asshole inevitably tries to sue you. He presses the button down on his radio, holding it up to his mouth. “We’re gonna need a doctor out here in the ambulance bay, police too.”

His dark eyes catalogue the bruising on your throat, taking in the blood that’s now soaking into the back of your scrubs from wound in your scalp. “You want me to get Langdon?”

“No.” You whisper, touching your fingertips to the back of your throbbing head, trying to gauge your injury. “I wouldn’t, not unless you want a murder on your hands too.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[taeslarityy]

dirty laundry ༄ dave york one shot (18+)

-> pairing: dark dave york x female reader

-> word count: 2.8k

-> summary: it’s a hot august week at the york’s lake house, which also happens to be the week you and your husband got married one year ago. your father in law — dave york — finds you changing in the laundry room and decides to give you a celebration of his own.

-> warnings/tags: father-in-law dave york, infidelity, dubcon, NON-CON, age gap (reader is 21, dave is nearing 50), SMUT 18+, heavy degradation(whore, slut, bitch), humiliation, dumbification, unprotected piv, sir kink, rough face-fucking, forced creampie, talk of pregnancy, reader is under the impression that she endures forced impregnation, hair pulling, slapping, spanking, semi naive reader, dave is not a cutesy nice man in this.. he honestly has no concern for readers feelings or pleasure. so please, if themes like dubious consent + non-con + blatant cheating are not ur forte, protect ur peace and scroll away!!

-> a/n: okay okay hiiiii. when i decided to participate in @hellishjoel ‘s #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i had a few ideas in mind. one happened to be this! but i felt more comfortable writing for joel and was confident in what i had planned. basically, this is opposite of that. no fluff or happy ending.. or even happy anything. so i wanted to share! thanks again kylee for letting me participate <3 and thank you to my beloved dearest @sweetpascal for aiding me yet again, i love u 🤍

let me know your thoughts!

DARK CONTENT BELOW: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

A huge part of growth, means acknowledging your mistakes.

When you failed your first semester of college, you knew it was from lack of trying and partying six days a week. So, you studied more and partied four days a week instead. When you slammed your brand new Mercedes into a flag pole, you knew it was from scrolling on Instagram which caused you to push accelerate rather than stop. So, you never went on your phone while driving again.

When you fell in love your sophomore year and decided to get married at twenty, you knew it was because you needed the well-off grad school bachelor, Daniel York. So, inadvertently, you settled. Now, a year later, you're sobbing in his family’s lake house bathroom because he somehow forgot that tonight was the eve of your wedding anniversary.

You feel like a complete and utter idiot. And for once in your life, you just might be. Staring at your reflection, you examine your appearance. You look effortlessly amazing today, after spending the day out on the boat. Hair, body and face all faintly sun-kissed. Your skin freshly shaved, legs and arms lathered in your favorite oil.

This was your final attempt to see if Daniel would stare at you with the same look of admiration he had so long ago. Your first attempt to ask him about starting your own family. Tonight was the night, and you were determined.

Briefly peeking out of the guest bathroom and down the hall, you decide you can rush into the laundry room only a few doors down. Everyone should seemly be downstairs, finishing up a game of Monopoly. You had the pleasure of winning two games in a row, pissing of the frightfully competitive York family. That’s when you decided to call it a night and head up to get ready for bed — bidding everyone a goodbye as you kissed your husband atop his head.

Wrapping your robe securely around your waist, you make your way towards the closed door and enter just as the dryer sings the most obnoxious 45 second tune that confirms the load is finished. Rich people shit, you mutter to yourself. Grabbing your bikini and sundress to hang up first, then laying out a sheer white silk sleeping dress with baby blue lace trim.

Looking back at the closed door, you conclude you should be fine to just throw it on before laying yourself out on your shared bed. Ready for your husband to see you so open and willing to be used by him. As your robe falls to your feet, a slight creek fills the silent space.

Whipping your head back and grabbing the nearest towel to cover yourself, you're met with an alluring glare from your husbands own dad. Your father-in-law, Dave York.

"Dave wha- what are you doing?" You question with a panic laced tone. Completely thrown off by the way he's leaning against the now locked door, hands in his wrinkle-free perfectly fitted black work slacks. His lack of response is louder than the faint trickle from the utility sink your bare-ass is pressed against.

Dave saunters over to you, his pristinely polished shoes clinking heavily with every step despite the minimal weight he's using. It's a commanding presence, shows how he doesn't have to storm over to establish authority. His handsome body towers over you and the faint hairs on your spine rapidly rise at the feeling of his warmth nearing your own naked body. Aside from the small washcloth that covers your crotch and arm across your heavy tits.

His veiny calloused wedding ring-wearing hand reaches next to you, finding the lace on your nightgown satisfyingly soft.

"Look at this, angel. Did you plan on wearing it for my inconsiderate son?" He remarks, looking into your wide eyes as his fingers continue to twist and feel at a piece of clothing that is filling you with an overbearing amount of embarrassment.

"I d- you weren't supposed to see that." The nervous confession brings a crooked grin to Dave's face.

"It's real pretty, just like you. Sexy even.... but I wouldn't waste my time putting something like this on for Daniel." Shaking his head at your frazzled state and utilizing that dismissive tone he does so well.

"W-why?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance at your innocent unknowing voice, Dave reaches a hand to slowly move your arm that's covering your plush chest. "Because, he left 10 minutes ago. Waved bye to me as I pulled into the driveway."

Now you're really fucking confused. Your husband never goes off without texting you to let you know, and why would he leave you alone at his parents home? Especially on the night prior to your anniversary.

"I don't understand. Did he tell you where he was going?" You probe at him, not processing the way his rough fingertips are skimming over your navel, up across your chest. Suddenly, you yelp as he pinches your pebbled nipple and grips under your adjacent perky breast. Your hand quickly grabs at his wrist, but he slaps it away — holding it at your waist.

"You really have nothing going on in that head of yours, huh? Just floating around being the perfect little wife for my son, is that right? Too stupid and blind to see that your husband cheats on you every living moment and only married you because you're nothing more than a sweet voice who’s gentle on the eyes." His painful out-of-pocket words paired with the twisting of your nipples has heavy tears brimming at your lashes. "Kind of him to make sure you're gentle on his old mans eyes too.... we always did share a type."

"Fuck you," you spit at him. You've never dared be rude to Dave, or anyone for that matter. But his condescending temper, sudden violations to your privacy paired with the already upsetting feelings you've been enduring today was a breaking point. As you rip your hand from his grasp prepared to rush out of the room, he grabs your throat in a vice grip. Landing a brutal smack on your cheek that causes your head to turn from the impact, just for him to use that same hand to yank your hair back to a straight position. Body now pressed against your own — you feel the washcloth protecting your femininity drop at your bare feet in terror.

"Hmm. Never heard you cuss before, sweetheart. Thought I taught my son to train his wife better than that."

A heavy tear streams down your now red swollen cheek, as you take in the hurtful message your father in law is clarifying. You're nothing but a piece of fuck meat, a trophy wife. But clearly not honored enough for your husband to use you. Humiliatingly, the way Dave's clothed body is up against your own, has your exposed cunt throbbing and leaking down your legs for him. You were good enough for Dave York, and that was an honor within itself.

"'M sorry," you murmur at the feel of his covered thigh spreading your leg and nudging into your soaked pussy.

Dave chuckles at your nearly cock drunk state, "haven't even touched you and your leaking on my dress pants. No wonder he keeps you around, you're just a perfect little slut willing to please."

"Y- yeaah," you sigh lightly humping his thigh, even though Dave didn't even ask a question. Something within you just wanted him to understand your body was his to use, despite both your sacred dedications to other partners. People so close to you. His son, your husband. Your mother-in-law, his wife.

He swiftly moves his thigh from between your legs, pinching your cheeks so they're puckered willing you to look at him with those glossed over doe-eyes he fucking leaks over. "Use that head and address me properly."

Your head swarms for a second, worried of his reaction to an incorrect title. Testing the waters, you whine, "yes, sir." The words muffled by the tight hold he has on your face.

With a sinister grin on his face, Dave pushes you down on the solid tile — hand still threaded through your hair to ensure your head movement is in his control.

"Look at that, your brain does work. Let's see about that mouth."

Yanking the zipper down, he pulls his semi-hard cock out and slaps it on your cheek, precum smearing slightly. As you eye his cock, you come to the realization that he's slightly bigger than his son at half mast, and you're gonna have to calm yourself to handle a monster like that.

"Are you gonna show me how good you take a cock down your throat? With those dick-sucking porn worthy lips?" Dave peers down at you. He has started to jerk himself to full length, his thumbs barely touching around his width.

"Yes, sir. I am."

The way your eyelids flutter up at him, so docile and unaware of just how vicious Dave intends to be on your needy body. It unlocks that fundamental primal male urge that he normally suppresses during sex.

"Open your mouth, bitch." As your tongue lolls out of your mouth obediently, a dribble of spit going down your chin to your neck to your tits gleams in the soft light. Dave grins as he stuffs two fingers in your mouth, touching at your sensitive uvula. You instantly attempt suppressing your rare gag reflex, body unprepared for his actions. "Nice job, knew you were meant to have your mouth filled."

Dave rips his fingers from you and smears the thick string of saliva across your face — slapping you across the face, rather gentle than before. As he grabs his cock and lines it up with your mouth, you inhale deeply. Seemly more aware of how Dave likes to be. Callous, straight-forward and dominant.

Before you can suck him into your mouth, Dave spits right on his cock — some of it landing on your moisturized lips — just to slam himself down your throat. Your eyes spring open looking up at him, polished hands gripping at his slack-covered thighs. You feel your left over slick on his right pant leg. The taste of his long day is heavy on your tongue as his balls nuzzle at your chin. You're overwhelmed with his scent. The hair at the base of his cock tickles your nose, stud piercing almost getting caught.

"Riiiight there, that's fucking it. What a real fucking whore."

Dave lets his head fall backwards, eyes on the ceiling as he feels you sputter around him, your spit dripping heavily down his balls and onto the tile between his legs. He's unsure on how long he looks upwards, until he feels the digging of your fingertips into him. When he looks down, your eyes are bulging — about to roll into the back of your skull. So he pulls off of you.

Your belligerent cough is almost too loud for comfort, so Dave jerks his cock and plops his full balls into your mouth. And like the eager girl you are, you suck them into your mouth. Licking at the seam between them, letting them bounce off of your tongue. You lick downwards, tonguing at his delicate perineum. That small but dirty act makes him groan loudly. Loud enough for someone on the second floor to hear.

Realizing he's getting too comfortable, he goes back to filling your mouth. Alternating between shallow fucking of the throat and just letting it bulge inside. His big hands wrapping around your neck to jerk himself through the thin hump of protruding skin.

When he hears the shrewd screech of his name from the mouth of his wife downstairs, he pulls out swiftly and yanks you up, hoisting your leg onto the counter. Prodding his cock head at your now unbelievably soaked entrance.

Your mind is hazy and disorientated concerning what's about to happen. You feel like you've barely had any time to process the fact that your father in law is treating you like a common street whore. So, when he pushes into you, a wailing shriek escapes you.

Dave slaps his heavy hand around your mouth from behind, pushing in balls deep but not before releasing a moan of his own.

"Better shut that mouth before I stuff something in there... good god. How is that cunt so damn tight? You're snug around me, guess you're not a slut after all. Tight pussy but loose throat, just how I like it."

Dave proceeds with his relentless thrusts into your aching cunt. You don't remember the last time you were filled so thoroughly. It makes you forget how fucked up this situation truthfully is.

As Dave's cock is slamming into your cervix over and over, you feel your lower stomach tightening. He feels it too. Dave has been holding in his orgasm since you first fell to your knees and gave him those fuck toy eyes. So before you can cum all over him, he grabs you by the neck from the front and puts your ear right by his mouth so he can relay his special message.

"My son told me you've been begging him for a baby... how sweet. You just wanna be a mama, huh? Or maybe, you think having one will fix your relationship. Just reminds me how stupid you are. If a kid could save a marriage, my wife and I would've been happy ever since she pushed that little shit out. But, I'm gonna make it even better for you, sweetheart...."

Dave pushes to the hilt as you cum around him, whimpering behind his hand. Eager to hear his words, simultaneously terrified.

"Gonna cum inside and get you pregnant myself."

You scream into his hand, trying to push him away from you, trying to get yourself away from his spearing cock. All your effort does is push him in deeper, your body going lax at how stuffed you are.

"Don't fight me, angel. Just take it..." You feel his warm cum spilling into you, your body quivering. "Good... so good. I already feel your body sucking up my cum.. eager for it. Eager to be round with your father in law's baby. What will it call me? Grand-dad?" He snickers into your ear as he releases your body. You just lay there, half your limp limbs hanging off the counter.

Dave watches his thick white liquid drip out of you, and down your inner thighs. He pats your ass and tucks himself back into his slacks.

"Don't worry too much. Daniel looks just like me, he'll never find out his kid is actually his half-sibling. That is unless you tell him. You want him to find out you were on your knees being a slut for his, daddy?" Dave questions you. You don't speak a word. Just staring at the piped detailing on the cupboard that holds all the scented detergents.

"Just go, please. So I can clean myself up." Those few begging words take the reminanets of your little energy.

Dave grabs your now wrinkly nightgown and robe, pulling you off the counter so you're forced to stand in front of him. Body spent, his finger prints have left slight indents on various parts of you that you're positive will bruise in the days to come. You realize now, there's no way your husband can see you uncovered for weeks.

"You're gonna put this slutty outfit on and walk your ass into his room, with my cum dripping down your legs. He's been waiting for you, sweetheart."

Your jaw drops at his demand. Disgusted yet your cunt clenches at the filth of it all.

"I thought you said he left?"

Dave just smiles at you like you're a mindless child. You almost fall to the floor in despair at the discovery of what a lying sick bastard Dave has revealed himself to be. You don't know what to do. You've caught yourself up in this twisted game and as of now, there's no way out.

So, you throw the soft lace over your head and run your fingers through your hair attempting to fix your appearance. As you unlock the door, Dave places a gentle hand on your waist and kisses the top of your head. You hear him inhale your scent before he pushes you out of the door and watches you meander to his son's room, a slight limp in your legs.

You look at him, distain on your face as you open the door to find your husband scrolling on his phone. With an arrogant look spread across his face — "Where have you been?"

Dave hears the click of the door lock setting in place. As he walks towards the stairwell, he can't help but laugh at the memory of his vasectomy he received many years ago.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[moonlightisdancing]

Grapefruit Juice/j.m.k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ jealousy, mutual masturbation, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom josh/sub reader, food play, a little bit of discipline & cockwarming if you squint, mocking/teasing, praisepraisepraise

as always pls lmk if any tags are missed

a/n: this one’s been brewing since this picture dropped… sorry to keep it for so long…

——————🧡——————

“I don’t like that you do that.” You huff, throwing yourself into a chair opposite of where Josh’s sitting.

“What’s the matter? Jealous?” He smirks, stretching his arm across the back of the couch.

“No! Just- what if you get sick or something? It’s not always about jealousy, Josh.”

“Seems to me like you’re pretty jealous. Maybe I should bring one of those girls back here instead.”

“What do you mean?” You know what he means, you were more giving him a chance to fix his statement than you were asking for clarification.

“I mean I came back here, ready to fuck my girl after a long show, and she’s bitching because I kissed a couple fans. But those fans,” He leans forward while waving his hand towards the door of the green room. “They’d be glad to watch me touch myself, let alone be the one doing it.”

“Then do it.” If he wants to play games, you’ll play, too. You knew he wouldn’t actually bring someone backstage, especially for sex, it was more risky than a kiss. Josh sighs and stands from the couch before making his way to the door.

“Yeah? And make you watch?” A tinge of jealousy resurfaces as you watch him slowly wrap his fingers around the door handle. He looks back at you, almost waiting for you to protest his actions, but you don’t. No matter how much jealousy boils inside, you won’t let him win. Gripping the arm rests with your hands, you begin pushing yourself out of the chair.

“Aht, sit and stay.” Josh glares at you with a hint of annoyance, his coffee brown eyes warning you to obey him.

The worst part is you did obey him.

Sitting and wallowing in your shame, you wait for what feels like forever before Josh returns. His presence lingers behind the door, his voice low as he speaks to someone. When a female voice responds, all sense of security is ripped from you. The door handle rustles before finally opening, Josh peeking his head through the gap.

“Look at you, all obedient and shit,” He quips, staring deep into your soul as he brings the rest of his body inside the room, shutting the door behind him. He changed and returned with… A grapefruit? Josh is wearing his usual outfit, those damned khaki pants and a white t-shirt he somehow always kept white. He barely removed his makeup, remnants of black eyeliner smeared across his lower lash line. Your eyes can’t stop watching as he tosses the grapefruit in his hand, effortlessly catching it each time.

Josh makes his way to the couch in silence, leaning back into the cushions as he continues staring at you. He was playing a game, granted you weren’t sure what kind. Josh digs his thumbs into the top of the grapefruit, and just when you think he’d start peeling it, he turns it around and presses his thumbs into the other side. You inch yourself forward on the chair, trying your best to understand what the hell he’s doing. While he continues with the silence, working his fingers into the fruit, you decide to keep the game going.

“So where’s the lucky girl?” You chide, and disregarding the length of your skirt you cross one leg over the other. Josh’s eyes can’t help but meet your lace covered core as you catch him biting his lip.

“Oh, she’s right in front of me,” He sighs, licking the grapefruit juice off his thumbs before adjusting himself on the couch. “Except I wouldn’t call her lucky.”

The sight of his thumbs tucked between his pretty lips drives you mad. Oh how you wish it was your mouth he shoved his fingers into until you gagged on the flavor.

“Yeah? And why is that?”

“Because you’re not allowed to touch me, only watch.” His free hand reaches down and begins undoing the zipper and button to his pants, he isn’t wearing underwear allowing his thick cock to be instantly on display. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, and quickly fall at the remembrance of his words.

Not allowed to touch.

But you were instructed to watch, so you do. Your eyes fix on his hands fiddling the grapefruit and only then did you put the pieces together. Josh’s left hand slowly inches down his torso until his cock is settled in his palm, his right hand bringing the grapefruit to his tip. Josh winces at the feeling of the cold citrusy juice dripping down his length onto his pelvis. All you want is to lick him clean as the juice continues spilling onto his tan skin. Each painfully slow flick of his wrist makes more of a mess both of him and you, a warm slick pooling at your core. Desperate for any sort of contact, you squeeze your crossed legs tighter together and roll your hips.

“Shame you’ve been such a brat, wish your pussy was making a mess instead…” Josh furrows his brows as he works the deep pink fruity flesh over his shaft, careful not to make too much of a mess on the white couch below him.

“Please?” You desperately whine at the thought of him inside of you.

“I don’t think so. Sit back for me, mamas.” He gestures with his left hand, his right still slowly working the grapefruit over his cock. You follow his instructions, uncrossing your legs to sit back against the chair.

“Go ahead, touch yourself for me.” Josh instructs, his pace growing slower.

You reach your hands down and pull your panties to the side, running your fingers through your velvety folds. He hums in approval as you begin working your fingers over your bud. Having him so close yet so far away is punishment in and of itself, but your inability to get off on your own is just as bad. You watch his cock stretch the grapefruit, fucking the insides into a pulpy mess only wishing that were you. In a desperate attempt to feel any semblance of him inside, you dip two fingers into your throbbing cunt, trying to curl them the way he does. Josh raises his eyebrows and watches you in amusement, shaking his head back and forth.

“Josh…” You mewled, eyes silently begging him for more.

“You make it so hard to be mad at you,” He sighs again and stops jerking himself off, calling you over with two fingers.

You lower your legs to the ground before bringing yourself to the edge of the chair and ultimately to your knees, crawling across the floor until you kneeled between his legs. Waiting for instructions, your eyes remain fixed on the grapefruit resting at the base of his cock. Josh slowly works the citrus up his length again, hissing at the feeling as it engulfed his tip, popping off the top with a lewd sound that echoes against the walls.

“See that?” He asks in a deep, sultry voice, gesturing to the fruit induced mess at the base of his cock.

“Mhm...” You hum and nod.

“Clean it up.”

You begin reaching your hand up, and when your fingers barely wrap around his shaft, he slaps your hand and grabs your wrist.

“Did I tell you to touch me?” He scoffs, tossing your arm to the ground.

“Well, how am I-”

“How am I?” He mocks, a smirk forming at the corners of his lips. “You’re allowed to use your tongue, that’s it. Now clean it up.”

With the sting of his touch fresh on your hand, you’re much more mindful of where your hands rest as you begin licking his skin clean. You aren’t typically one for grapefruit, but Josh makes it your favorite flavor. You lap at and slurp the tangy juice and pulp, dragging your tongue across every inch of his pelvis and cock until nothing remains on his skin. Josh nods as you hover your mouth over his leaking tip, giving you permission to feed his shaft into your mouth.

You are careful, mindful and gentle with each passing of your tongue over his delicate skin, grateful he’s allowing you to touch him so much. Hesitantly, you bring one hand up and press it against his balls, softly rolling them in your palm. It’s not long before precum leaks from his tip, quickly followed by his hot release as he begins fucking your throat. Stinging in the back of your throat is present accompanied by tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as his cum spills down your throat.

“Such a good girl, swallow for me.” He encourages.

At the conclusion of your task, Josh brings his hand to cradle your face, wiping your tears before trailing his thumb down to trace your bottom lip.

“You want a treat?” Josh asks almost condescendingly, but you know he means well.

You nod your head yes and his other hand meets your lips with a wedge of grapefruit tucked between his thumb and index, gently pushing the sticky fruit into your mouth. Josh continues pushing pieces of tangy goodness onto your tongue, praising you when each piece was swallowed.

“So pretty when your mouth’s full, mamas.”

“Thank you,” You blush, turning into his palm. It’s amazing how even in these moments he remains sweet as can be.

“C’mere,” Josh helps you to your feet, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to guide you over his waist. His fingertips knead your skin, lips working over the bit of cleavage your tank top allows. Josh’s hands inch up until they meet your panties, tugging them to the side with fervor. He reaches his hand further between your thighs until ultimately giving you what you want, his fingers buried deep inside. You fight the urge to grasp onto his shoulders as you follow his instructions, instead digging your nails into your own thighs.

Not allowed to touch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” Josh’s breath hitches in his throat as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. The only thing you want more in this moment is to sink down onto his length and feel him the closest way you can. Sensing your desire, he removes his fingers and places his hands on your hips, pushing you down onto his cock. Still unsure if you can touch him, you grip the edges of your skirt instead, your knuckles turning white with pleasure.

Josh holds you down on his cock as he begins kissing up your neck, sending chill bumps across your skin and drawing a whine from your lips. You could feel the heat creeping across your chest and cheeks as his teeth grazed your earlobe.

“You can touch me now,” Josh mumbled into your skin. It’s a matter of seconds before your fingers find themselves tangled in his hair, tugging handfuls at the base as he gently starts to fuck into your aching pussy.

Josh’s hands travel from your hips to laying flat across your back before he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. Each thrust is intentional and melodic in its own way, the unusual angle hitting new spots neither of you knew about. Josh’s forehead becomes coated in a thin sheen of sweat pressed against your chest as his lips leave marks across your breasts.

Your head falls forward, cheek resting against Josh’s curly mess of hair as your arms wrap around his head and neck. The two of you find a rhythm that works, switching between lifting your hips and slamming them down to match his movements and grinding your clit against his pelvis. You pull his hair enough to bring his head back, exposing his lips to the cool air of the room. His chin is wet in a delicious combination of sweat and saliva from the open mouth kissing across your breasts, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing your lips against his to taste him. He tastes sweet, salty and desperate in all of the right ways.

Passion and pleasure washes the two of you as you both come undone in one anothers grasp, the unraveling threads intertwining and sewing you together. Soft uh’s and both your names fill the air as you tighten around Josh’s length, ultimately aiding in his warm release pouring into you. You think of the way his pretty pink cock looked tearing through the grapefruit, thankful that you got to feel the stretch he previously only let you watch from across the room.

The two of you lay together, Josh’s softening dick still buried inside your throbbing cunt. Even without being hard, he fills you perfectly. Tired kisses are exchanged alongside a mumbled mix of I love you’s and other domestic thoughts before he clears his throat and speaks.

“You done being jealous now?” Josh chides, smirking against your lips.

“M’not jealous.” You groaned.

“S’okay if you are, you’re still my baby.”

[feyhunter78]

Oooh how about nerd!miguel who gets so nervous when you come to his dorm for the first time? (maybe you forgot something and went there to pick it up) like he’d be eyeing you sitting on his bed but trying not to make it obvious ☺️

I definitely cannnn, I made this a bit more spicy than maybe you intended, and I had it be the second time y/n is at Miguel's apartment for plot reasons, but I hope you like it anyways!!!!

Door Frames and Doorways

Artist cred: twitter jammunin

Miguel’s apartment complex is nice, like really nice. Four gates, elevators, 24-hour security, and you’re pretty sure you saw at least six Ferraris in the parking garage.

You punch in the code and wait until the gate opens, your phone in one hand while you walk, scanning the garage for the elevators. Once inside, you press the button for Miguel’s floor, and lean against the mirrored walls, watching the numbers climb. It’s fancy, more like a hotel elevator than an apartment. Finally, the doors ding and slide open, you step out onto plush carpet, the hall leading to his door is pristine, artwork—hotel style artwork—on the walls, everyone’s doors are decorated with name plates and their apartment number.

O’Hara 2099, Miguel’s nameplate reads, and you knock quietly. It is getting late, and you’d hate to disturb any of the other residents, but you really need your planner.

You wait a second, then knock again, nothing. You go to text Miguel, then the door swings open.

You’re greeted by Gabriel clad in the most typical college boy pajamas you’ve ever seen, red gingham pants and a white muscle shirt, his smile wide, and his eyebrows wriggling cartoonishly. “Well y/n, fancy seeing you here.”

“Hey Gabriel, I left my planner here yesterday, Miguel said I could come by and grab it?” You ask, looking past him for Miguel.

It’s not that you don’t like Gabriel, he’s friendly, sociable, funny, popular but not a dick, and he’s Miguel’s brother so he shares similar features, so he’s definitely not ugly. But he smells like weed, and as much as a small part of you wants to ask if you can take a hit—school has been a bitch, you need a break—you don’t know him like that. Plus, it’s late, and you still have to drive back to your own apartment.

The living room is empty behind him, the TV on, casting dim colors across the floor, the balcony doors open letting in the cool night air, and most likely the smell of weed out.

He opens the door wider, ��of course, come in. Miguel’s in his room, did you text him?”

“No, I was going to, but then you opened the door, so.” You follow him in, and he shuts the door behind you. “I was already home when I realized I left it, I’m sorry to barge in on you guys’ night like this.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” He walks into the living room, where you can see a blunt resting in a novelty ashtray. You’re not totally sure, but it looks like a spider. “You want a hit?” He offers you the blunt, that tangy, almost sweet smell hits your nose, and you feel like a nicotine addict feigning for a cigarette, the way you take a half step forward, hand outstretched.

“I shouldn’t…” You tell yourself, and Gabriel, but really yourself.

Gabriel shrugs, “suit yourself. Yo Miguelito, y/n’s here.” He calls out, flopping onto the expensive looking leather couch and taking a deep inhale, holding it, then blowing the smoke out towards the open balcony doors.

There’s a heavy thud, then the jiggle of a door handle, and Miguel’s door bursts open. He looks…out of breath? His hair is tousled, his t-shirt half on, hem riding up, exposing his toned abdomen, his sweatpants sitting low on his hips. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t see your text.”

“She didn’t text you; I heard her knocking.” Gabriel says through a cloud of smoke.

“Well—um—your planner is in here, on my desk, I can grab it for you?” Miguel stutters out, running a hand through his hair, his glasses askew.

“I can get it myself, it’s no big deal.” You reassure him, slipping through the space between him and the door frame.

You’ve been in Miguel’s room before, literally yesterday, but you’re still amazed at how clean it is. His bed set against the far wall, framed photos of his family, awards, and scholarships up on the other. His bathroom door is ajar, and his desk light is off, your planner sitting in the very center of the huge desk with its multiple monitors.

There’s a candle lit, sitting atop his wardrobe, the scent of evergreen drifting through the room, and you detect a more musky undertone, but don’t let the thought linger.

You cross the wide expanse of plush carpet and grab your planner, holding it to your chest. “Thank you so much for finding it, I was freaking out thinking I lost it somewhere on campus.”

He nods his head, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame. “It’s no problem, I know you live and die by that thing.”

“Not all of us can keep a perfect schedule in our heads, Miguel.” You tease, sweeping your eyes around his room.

There’s a decorative pillow on the floor, beside his bed, and without thinking you bend over and grab it, before getting onto his bed and crawling forward placing it back in its rightful place.

Miguel sucks in a sharp breath, and you turn to look at him. His pupils are dilated, his face is flushed, and he keeps shifting his weight, unable to meet your eyes.

“You okay?” You ask, getting off his bed and placing a hand against his forehead.

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He says, taking a quick step back and bumping into the wall.

You laugh, finally connecting the dots. “Miguel, are you high?”

He blinks at you, then nods slowly. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I don’t do it often, Gabri just brought it out, and I only started because my ex wanted me to, but now I only smoke with Gabri I sw—”

Squeezing his shoulder playfully, you look up at him, still laughing a bit. “Miguel, it’s cool, I smoke sometimes, with my sister Kenzie, I’m not judging you.” You explain, giving him a teasing smile, your hand instinctively sliding down to rest above his heart as your laughter dies down. “Look at you, Mr. Genetics Genius partaking of the devil’s lettuce on the weekend, it’s kinda hot.”

Did you really just say that? Why did you say that? What the fuck y/n?? Are you high???

“R-Really?” Miguel asks, his lips, his stupidly plush and perfect lips, parted in surprise.

“Yeah, it’s like a thing, the good boy with a secret dark side. Not that I’d call smoking weed a dark side, but still. I’m a little bummed, though, looks like someone else corrupted my good boy before I could.” You say, a faux pout on your lips.

You’re so glad Miguel can’t hear your heartbeat because you’re pretty sure it’s trying to bust out of your chest.

“Dígalo de nuevo.” Trsl: Say it again.

You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“Say it again, please.” He whispers, his pupil blown wide, his hands hovering over your hips.

“Say what? That I’m bummed someone else corrupted you?” You’re starting to feel self-conscious, doubt trickling in, but you try to push it to the side and loop your arms around Miguel’s neck, fingers threading in his thick locks. “That I’m upset someone else got to my good boy first?”

Miguel lets out a sound akin to a whimper, and heat rushes through you. You’re suddenly aware of just how close to him you are. You’ve practically got him pinned to the wall, and he looks so good, you just want to—

His hands clamp down on your hips, dragging you forward. “Soy tuyo y/n, tu buen chico, tuyo, tuyo, tuyo." Trsl: I’m yours y/n, your good boy, yours, yours, yours.

His words and lips ghost over your own, and you dig your fingers into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut.

“Tuyo?” You ask, head spinning, the scent of Miguel overwhelming your senses, driving every rational thought from your brain.

“Sí, eres mío, dulzura.” He breathes, his voice low, vibrating in your bones, intertwining with your synapses, and filling you with liquid heat. Trsl: Yes, you’re mine, sweetheart, sweetness, darling, etc.

You’re going to do it, you can’t wait any longer, the words are brimming at your lips, waiting to spill over. “Miguel, please, kiss m—”

“Yo, you find that planner or do you guys need help looking?” Gabriel’s voice cuts through the tension, and you all but fling yourself back.

“No—no, we found it, we’re good, thanks.” You call back, too embarrassed to even spare Miguel a glance as you rush out of his apartment, planner pressed to your chest to hide your rapid breathing.

It’s not until you’re halfway home, you realize you didn’t smell any weed on Miguel, but you definitely saw the lotion bottle that had been kicked under his bed.

Miguel’s version here👀👀

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer

[scoonsalicious]

2.2 Major*

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (oral (f-receiving), fingering, edging, squirting)

Word Count: 2.9k

Previously On...: You told Lily off, Bucky offered you a ride home on his bike.

A/N: So, my job decided not to renew my contract for the upcoming year, so I've been pissed off, annoyed and frustrated. Please enjoy this extra part today because I could use the extra love <3. Also, it's smut!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

God, you thought as you held on to Bucky a little tighter than was probably appropriate, he felt fucking amazing. Like a marble statue of a Greek god, come to life. You honestly could not believe how well this evening had ended up going, even after your final discussion with Lily. You’d been worried, after you’d said what you said to her, that Bucky would be upset with you for how you talked to his best friend but you quickly realized that, if he was the kind of guy who agreed with her line of thinking, well, then he wasn’t the kind of guy you would be interested in getting to know better, anyway. Thank goodness that didn’t seem to be the case. 

It was colder than you expected for an early September night as you whipped toward the City, and you found yourself pressing into Bucky’s back. You’d been a little disappointed when you saw he’d had a motorcycle instead of a car– it was impossible to actually hold a conversation with him on a bike– but you were more than happy to snuggle up to him like this, instead, and judging by the way his abdominal muscles contracted when you rested your cheek against his upper back, he seemed to be enjoying it, too.

It was about a forty-five minute drive from the bar where you’d met the Avengers to your condo building, and by the time you reached the city limits, it had begun to drizzle. Once Bucky pulled up to your building, it was raining in full force, and the two of you were soaked.

Once you’d both gotten off the bike and secured the helmets, you made a mad dash to the awning of your building. “I’m so sorry,” you said, laughing at how ridiculous you both must look. “If I had known it was going to open up like this, I would have insisted on taking the train.”

Bucky moved a strand of rain-slicked hair away from your face. “I would still have insisted on driving you,” he said with a smile.

You both stared at each other for a moment, and then spoke at the same time: “Can I walk you up?” Bucky asked at the same time you said “Would you like to come up?” You both chuckled.

“I would feel awful, sending you right back out into the rain,” you said as you let the doorman hold your building’s front door open for you both. “Come inside and warm up a little; dry off.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, following you into the elevator and you noticed him trying, so hard, not to notice the way your erect nipples strained against the wet fabric of your shirt as it clung to your chest.

When you reached your floor, he trailed behind you, gently holding onto the hem of your jacket as he followed you to your door, as if he were afraid of losing you in the hallway. You tried to mentally run through what your condo had looked like before you’d left for the evening. The cleaners had come today while you were at work, and you were fairly sure you hadn’t left anything embarrassing lying around. 

You unlocked the door and slipped inside, Bucky close behind. Locking the door behind you, you turned to face him, watching as he studied the main living room of your home. “This is nice,” he said, taking everything in. 

“Thanks.” You slipped out of your jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. “Let me get you a towel,” you offered, moving toward your linen closet. 

No sooner had you opened the closet door than the lights in your apartment went out. “Doll?” you heard Bucky call to you from the living room. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you called back, grateful that your emergency candles were also located in the linen closet. “I’ll be right there.”

Bucky looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of your living room. “Looks like a good chunk of the neighborhood’s out, too,” he said. “Glad we got off that elevator when we did, otherwise, we’d be stuck in there instead of here.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you brought out the towels and a handful of candles. The idea of being trapped in an elevator for an undetermined amount of time with a man this beautiful would not necessarily have been a bad thing. “Here,” you said, handing Bucky some of the candles. “Will you help me light these?”

You and Bucky worked companionably for the next few minutes, lighting the candles and setting them around the living room until you’d created a warm, glowing perimeter. It would almost have been romantic, if it had been done on purpose. You handed Bucky a towel. “Here you go,” you said, then reached for your phone. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

“Not at all,” he said, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Put on that band you like; the one that plays that song we danced to.”

You smiled. “Yeah, okay.” You navigated to your music player and opened up your Bleachers playlist, putting it on shuffle. You turned the volume down low enough so that you could comfortably talk over it while still listening to the music. “Can I get you something to drink?” you asked, trying to be a good hostess in spite of the current circumstances.

“I’m good,” Bucky said, taking the towel from his head. You had to suppress a snicker– his hair was going in every direction.

“What?” he asked, a small frown playing across his lips.

“Nothing,” you said, trying not to giggle. “You just look like an adorable drowned rat. Come here.” You started walking toward Bucky, and he toward you, until you met each other in the middle of your living room floor. “Let me,” you said, taking the towel from him and running it across his hair again. He bent down to allow you easier access to the top of his head, and when you pulled your hands away, he looked up at you through his lashes, stealing your breath with how beautiful he was in the candlelight. 

“Thank you, again,” you swallowed, “for driving me home.” Before he could reply, you stood up on your tiptoes and planted a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The action seemed to catch you both by surprise, because you each froze. There was a sudden shift in the air, a coiled tension; it was like suddenly, you both knew what was about to happen between you. You knew what was going to happen, and that it was inevitable. 

“I… don’t ever do this,” you whispered, lips so close to his face that they were fluttering against his skin. 

“Me, either,” he told you, his voice gone husky. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I want to,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “Really badly.”

“Me, too. So bad.”

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but in an instant, his hands were on your waist, yours around his neck as your mouths found one another. He tasted like a hint of bourbon as his tongue made its way into your mouth, and you moaned as he pressed his hips against yours. 

“Major,” he groaned, moving his lips from your mouth, down your neck, and to the covered peaks of your breasts. He sucked at a hardened nipple through the fabric of your drenched shirt and you arched your back, pressing your flesh further into his mouth. “Fuck,” he moaned. 

“Please, Bucky,” you heard yourself whine desperately as he continued to suckle on you through your shirt. “Oh fuck, please.”

He pulled his mouth away from your breast. “‘Please,’ what, pretty girl? You gotta tell me what you want with your words.”

His tone was so seductive, so commanding, that you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. “Please… touch me, Sergeant,” you begged, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. ���Everywhere.” You found his mouth with yours once again, and could feel him smirk into your lips as he kissed you.

“When you ask so nicely, doll…” he said, and you felt his hands grasp the hem of your shirt, tugging it up over your torso. You raised your arms above your head to assist him in removing it, and you stood before him, top completely bare.

“Fuck,” he groaned, reaching out a hand to grab and knead at the soft mound of your breast. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You took a fistful of his shirt in your hand as you kissed him again, gently guiding you both down to the floor until he had himself propped up on one elbow above you. “Off,” you panted, pawing at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but Bucky hesitated. 

“What is it?” you asked gently, when it was obvious he was reluctant. 

Bucky avoided looking you in the eye. “I’ve got… scars,” he said, embarrassment written across his face. “They’re… they’re not pretty.”

You leaned up to kiss him. “Do any of them keep your dick from working?” you asked.

Bucky barked a startled laugh. “...No.”

“Then take your clothes off, Sergeant,” you said, smiling at him. “That’s a direct order.” 

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” Grinning, Bucky leaned back on his haunches and tugged his shirt over his head. If you’d had a cock, it would have sprung to attention at the sight of his muscles, the six pack that rippled across his stomach, the Adonis belt that pointed to unseen delights still to be revealed. You barely even noticed the ragged lines of scar tissue along his shoulder.

That was, however, until you caught the reflection of the candlelight in the metal of his left arm. That was unexpected, you thought to yourself, but by no means a dealbreaker. You bit your bottom lip as you studied him. Despite the scars and his obvious prosthesis, you couldn’t help but think he was perfect.

You reached down to the buttons of your jeans and began undoing them, desperate to get them off your body and him into it. 

“Let me help you, doll,” Bucky said. With swiftness but exquisite care, he rolled your pants down. You lifted your hips to assist him and he gently shimmied the wet fabric off of you, until he was pulling one leg off, then the next, leaving you in just a pair of pink lace panties. You squirmed slightly under his appraising gaze before he hooked his index fingers into either side of the waistband of your underwear and began to–agonizingly slowly– pull them down your thighs. 

When he’d moved them all the way down your legs, he fisted the material in his metal hand, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling. “God,” he moaned as he palmed himself through the jeans he was still wearing. “You smell divine, doll.”

His words sent another rush of wetness seeping from you, and you were convinced you were going to leave a puddle on the floor if he didn’t do something to you soon. “Bucky,” you moaned.

Tossing your panties aside, Bucky leaned forward and, placing one hand on each of your knees, slowly spread your legs open until you were fully on display before him. Suddenly self-conscious, you tried to close your legs, but Bucky stopped you with a hungry look. “Please don’t, doll,” he whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes. “You’re so fucking beautiful… I just wanna look at you a minute.”

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky exhale as Bucky positioned himself between your legs, lowering himself down so that he was lying on his stomach, his face mere inches from your center. He ran a hand along the inside of each of your legs, from your knees to your thighs, and you gasped at the difference in temperature and sensation– one soft and warm, the other hard and cold. When he reached the apex, he tucked a thumb on either side of your outer folds and ran them up your slit, opening you to him like a fresh, ripe peach.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured, and you could feel the breath of his words hot against your core. “I need to take a taste, doll,” he whispered, and before you could fully prepare yourself, his mouth was on you. Your hips immediately bucked at the hot contact, his large hands continuing to spread you wide as his tongue explored you.

“Fuck,” you gasped, trying not to vibrate out of your skin with the pleasure of it all. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god! Don’t stop.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away from you just enough to murmur “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” before diving in again. His mouth was magic as he worked you, from nipping and sucking on your clit, to thrusting his tongue in and out of you, to gently nibbling the sensitive skin of your engorged outer lips. Everything he did was heaven, and you felt your orgasm building with rapid speed.

“Oh, shit,” you cried as his tongue lapped at your weeping hole. “Oh shit, Bucky, I’m gonna cum!”

He pulled his mouth away from you, leaving you gasping at the lack of contact. “Not yet, doll,” he said with a filthy grin. “Not yet.”

He proceeded to play you with his mouth, as if you were an instrument and he was a world class musician, but he wouldn’t let you cum. Every time you got close, he would back off, taking you just far enough before pulling you back from the ledge. It was frustrating the shit out of you, but it was magnificent. You had never been edged so well in your entire life.

Finally, finally, after what felt like hours, it was too much. You needed to cum or you felt like you were going to die. “Bucky,” you cried, pressing the heels of your hands into your eye sockets and feeling the space wet with tears. “Bucky, please! Please, let me cum! I need it, Bucky! Need it so fucking bad!” 

His tongue found your clit again, dancing circles over the sensitive nub, and you felt one of his hands let go of you, only to have two of his thick fingers sliding into your entrance with no resistance. He finger fucked you while he sucked on your clit, and the combined sensation, after all the edging, was driving you crazy. “Holy fuck,” you whimpered. “So close.”

Almost as if taking your words as a challenge, Bucky curved his fingers inside of you, dragging them again and again against your g-spot until you were gasping. The pressure was so intense; you’d never felt anything like it before– not once in all your married years had your ex-husband ever brought you anywhere close to where Bucky had brought you in one night.

You were a kettle, about to boil over; a caldera long overdue for its world-ending eruption. You were ecstasy personified, and he hadn’t even brought you to climax yet.

And then, you exploded, screaming his name so loudly you were worried your neighbors would call the police. 

It was a release unlike any you had ever felt before– a double shot of pleasure, and you were positive that, for a moment, you lost consciousness, or at the very least, your soul had temporarily vacated your body. When you came back to yourself, Bucky was leaning over your face, grinning from ear to ear.

“Did you know you were gonna do that, doll?” he asked as he bent down to kiss you. You could taste the tang of your arousal on his tongue, along with something else, undefinable and unique.

“D-do w-what?” you asked, your own voice sounding shaky and far away. Your whole body was trembling, the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsating through you. 

Bucky lied down next to you, pulling your naked, sweat-slicked body into his, and wrapping his arms around you. “You squirted all over my face, doll! It was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

You laughed through chattering teeth. “I’ve… ne-never d-d-done that be-before,” you said. “F-fuck.”

“I’ll say.” Bucky nuzzled his nose into your hair. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you something? A glass of water? A blanket?”

You shook your head. “Ju-just ne-ne-need a mi-mi-minute to c-come b-b-back int-t-to my b-b-b-body,” you said. “H-h-hold m-me? P-p-p-please?”

“Yeah, of course, doll,” he said, pulling you closer into him. He reached up and pulled a throw blanket off of the arm of your couch, wrapping it snuggly around you both, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of him.

“Y-you d-d-didn’t c-c-cum,” you said, feeling the trembling decrease, but not ready to stop all together. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” Bucky said, kissing your head. “Watching you come undone like that? I fucking came in my pants like a goddamn teenager. It was unbelievable.” His tone turned serious. “Did you like it? Was it okay?”

Using all the energy you had left in your body, you turned to face him, noticing the concerned look in his eye in the candlelight. “Th-that w-w-was the s-single b-b-best org-a-asm of m-my entire f-f-fucking life.” You kissed him again, desperately clinging to his forearm to ground you. “Th-th-thank you.”

Bucky smiled. “If you don’t mind, then,” he said, burying his face into your shoulder, “I’d like to give you a couple more before morning, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sh-sh-shit,” you laughed. “Y-y-yes p-please.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 55: Resolved Debt

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

For the rest of the day I keep myself busy by cleaning out the entire house. Every time I look over at my suitcase in the corner my stomach ties into a knot. Maybe Alfie’s right. I shouldn't be here. All that’s happened since I got here has gone from complicated to worse. And- 

Okay, where is Thomas? I take another glance out the window. Mr. Solomons has returned with his gang but Thomas is missing. He wouldn’t forget to accompany his friend back to his car. Did something come up?

I leave Charlie asleep on the sofa and stick my head out the door to call across the street.

“Where’s Thomas? I thought he was with you.”

Alfie looks up and sees me shouting. He motions for his men to wait and walks over to the front steps, leaning his cane on the railing.

“The man left for some errands. Mentioned something about the foundation or whatever.”

“Just him? No one else went with him?”

He scoffs. “How the fuck would I know?”

That doesn’t sound like Thomas. All these weeks he’s stressed about security and keeping in pairs. He would have told Alfie where he was going.

“Alone…” A light flicks on in my head and panic sprints through me. Polly! “That’s means-! I need to find him!”

I lurch forward to start running but Alfie reaches out and grabs my arm. No no no! This must be what Polly set up! Changretta will want to get Thomas alone so he can kill him-!

“Whoa, whoa.” Alfie tugs me back. “Whatever this mess is, you are not in it.”

I try to pull away. “Polly did this! She-!”

“Not. Your. Business. You want something to do? Go tend to his boy.”

“I-”

“Verena.” The Jewish gangster gives me a certain look. “We both know that a father without his son is the worst thing we can let happen to him. He needs someone like you to look after Charlie.”

“I have been!” I cry out with a cross between rage and despair. “And he never tells me anything! I am not going to wait for a note saying he’s been shot!”

“Steenstra, coming from a man who knows how Tommy thinks, let me say this. He has strange ways of showing affection.” Alfie, seeing that I’ve calmed down a fraction, pats my shoulder. “I’ll leave it at that.”

Yes, because that cleared up so many questions! I watch the man stride back to his car and see him give a final wave as the vehicle starts driving away. So I’m subjected to what all other Shelby women struggle through. Staying safe indoors while I wait for Thomas to tell me what’s going on. 

Thud! The sound of the back door sends me sprinting down the hall. No more of this-! 

“Polly?”

The Romanian woman walks past my shocked face and starts to light a cigarette.

“What a surprise,” I droll darkly. “Are you here to apologize to Charlie for killing off his dad?”

She flicks some ash into the sink. “Tommy isn’t dead.”

Not dead? Not…? Okay, then what did happen? She can’t hide it from me! Polly’s worried just as I am!

I clench my fists and march straight up to her. “Somebody better start telling me what the fuck is going on right now-!”

“We’re holding a family meeting,” Polly explains all too calmly. “I’ll explain everything then. Right now, keep your head clear. You don’t need to pick up Tommy’s hot-headedness.”

“My head clear? My head clear?” I hiss. “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying to keep a clear head throughout these past weeks?”

Polly just shakes her head and walks off to see Charlie. My shoulders slump and I lean against the wall. Not Polly too. Is Ada the only other one who understands this insanity? Can somebody tell me anything?

Knock knock.

I cannot handle any more of this. That better be a bloody angel because, dear God, I need some good news-!

“Hello.”

Thomas. It’s Thomas. Alive. Holding a parcel.

“Thank Christ. You son of a bitch!” 

My anger fazes into frustrated relief and my knees buckle. Thomas uses his free hand to grab me just before I can crumple to the ground. He stands me up and I bury my face into his warm coat. At the same time I weakly pound a fist against his shoulder, still raging about his return.

“Y-You could’ve- I thought you were going to die!” I gasp. “What happened, Thomas? What the fuck is going on?” I look back at the parcel. “And what is this? More guns?”

Thomas clears his throat and helps me stand straighter. “Verena, about the argument from before. I understand that you’re only looking out for your family. None of this is your fault. I know you’re not working for Changretta.”

“Thomas… That’s really sweet, and I accept your apology, but just moments ago I was about to pull my hair out worrying about if you had been killed!” 

“Here, here. Let’s get inside.” Thomas ushers me back into the warm house and shuts the door. “I know, none of this has been fair for you. And the Hudson-”

“Don’t mention the car, Thomas. I needed to stop keeping quiet and thought that it would help-”

“Oh it does, love.” Thomas licks his lips. “It’s a gorgeous car. But I still owe you a big apology for this whole mess. So to make it up, Charlie and I picked out this a few days ago. Thought you’d like it.”

He passes me the box. Why does he look… scared? Excited? It’s hard to tell. And why is the box light? I remove the top and peer inside. It’s- It’s… A beautiful white coat! An elegant, warm coat that feels almost too soft to the touch. He picked this out for me?

My jaw drops and I immediately start shaking my head. “Thomas, I cannot accept this. It’s too much.”

Thomas sees the joy in my eyes and refuses to take the parcel back. “‘Course not. You need something to keep you warm here. Please.” He puts a hand over mine and gently pushes the box further against me. “Please take it.”

“It’s genuine fox fur!” I gush. “This must have cost a fortune! If I wear this half of England will come running expecting me to be some prime duchess or somebody important.”

“You are important. To us.”

He didn’t say ‘to me.’ Is this an apology for the argument or saying sorry for pushing me onto the ‘women to pay no mind’ list?

“Thanks again for watching Charlie.”

He’s had his hands full with this vendetta business that he’s had no time for his own son. A steep understatement. So was I wrong? Thomas really does care? He just… has strange ways of showing affection.

I grudgingly accept the gift and smile warmly. “You never need to thank me for watching him.”

Thomas closes his eyes and rubs his temple. “There’s so much I need to thank you for, love.”

Then why do I still feel pushed away?

“Thomas.” I hold up the coat. “You don’t need to apologize with this. Just promise me you will keep me informed. Promise me.”

He leans against the wall I’ve backed him into and sighs. “I can’t.” His piercing blue eyes look down at me with something I can’t quite decipher. “You know why.”

I bite my lip and take a deep breath. “Yes. I know why. But it doesn’t hurt to ask again.”

I love you, Thomas! And it makes me saddened with worry and sick with anger that I will never be good enough for you.

Thomas starts to reach over but holds back. “I know you still believe I’m worth saving. But- But all I’ve given you are more problems. You don’t-”

“Tommy.”

Polly cuts him off and motions for him to follow her to the parlor. Did she do that on purpose? How am I supposed to pry anything out of Thomas without being interrupted?

Thomas sits in an armchair, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, and stares at Charlie playing with his blocks. He doesn’t notice right away when Polly offers him a drink.

“What do you think you’re going to tell Arthur?” she asks.

Thomas doesn’t blink. “I’m going to tell them the truth.”

“Did she like the coat?” Charlie asks shyly from the floor.

Thomas doesn’t answer right away so I speak for him. “I love it, Charlie. It’s beautiful. Did you help pick it out?”

He grins proudly. “Yeah! It was the softest one.”

In the corner of my eye I see Thomas look over at me. He’s still holding something back. But what?

Polly moves over to look out the window. “They’re here.”

I will have to wait for another time. Again. I was so close to telling him.

Another family meeting. Another awkward silence while everyone waits for Thomas to speak. This time I choose to wait with Charlie in the hall while everyone else gathers around the table.

After a minute Arthur speaks up. “Heard there was a shooting today.”

Thomas nods. “Yeah. I killed three men today. Now our enemies will have to wait.”

Arthur and I exchange the same look of surprise, while Lizzie and Ada don’t look the least bit shaken. That’s what was waiting for Thomas today. But he lived.

Charlie tugs at my skirt and points to his dad. “Was daddy in trouble?”

“No, no,” I whisper and kneel down next to him. “Your vader just met up with some bad men.”

“Suppose they took you by surprise?” Arthur asks gruffly.

“No. I knew they were coming.”

Hold the phone. He knew?

Polly speaks up. “A few months ago I received a letter from Luca Changretta, offering to spare my son if I gave up Tommy. And I gave Tommy up.”

“Which is the plan that Polly and I agreed on,” Thomas explains. “I knew Luca would want to pull the trigger himself so I used this as a setup to bring him in.”

He locks eyes with me and sees my growing irritation. All this time? He knew all this time what he was getting himself into and he told me nothing! 

“I didn’t get Luca, but I got three. All right?” He walks over and leans down to pick Charlie up. “Come here, you.”

Johnny Doggs holds up a glass. “I thought you’d gone soft. I drink to you, Tom.”

“So you got three?” Uncle Charlie asks.

Thomas nods. “I got three.”

“Well, I drink to you, Tom.”

Charlie looks back and forth in confusion. “Dad, you got three what?”

Thomas laughs and pokes his chest. “I got three shillings for a two-shilling horse.” I guess that’s one way to put it. “Now, my boy, you come with us, eh?”

Charlie giggles and gives me a wave goodbye. Arthur lets out a laugh and ruffles the boy’s hair.

“Been playing with Aunt Verena, eh Charlie?”

Suddenly Thomas’ gaze hardens. “No, Arthur.”

“Why not? She’s basically a sister.”

Yes. Why not? I should think that I deserve aunt status at this point. And why is Polly looking at Thomas like that? Almost like she knows something…

The Romanian woman catches me looking and busies herself by grabbing her coat. “I’m picking up Michael from the hospital tomorrow. Then I'm dropping him off to Mr. Gold on the outskirts.”

I stifle a laugh. “Michael? In the woods? He’s going to hate it.”

Polly rolls her eyes. “He’s going to deal with it.”

Once she walks out, Thomas sticks his head back in, with Charlie still clinging to his neck.

“We’re going out for a drink. When I bring Charlie back for his nap, will you watch him ‘til I get back tonight?”

I put my hands on my hips and give him a cheeky glare. “I suppose Charlie can spend more time with his non-aunt.” My teasing fades. “You’re not staying?”

Thomas notices my disappointment and tilts my chin up. “I've got some paperwork but I’ll be back. I promise.”

Thomas does fulfill his promise… eventually. He brings Charlie back just as it starts to turn dark, tucking the yawning child into bed. But he walks back out again, no doubt off to overwork himself. Thomas seemed eager to come back but does not return until the early hours of the morning. I don’t know what kept him but when I hear the door open I put down the dishes I’m washing and head straight for him.

“You’re back late. Charlie’s- Thomas? What is it?”

His face. All hints of conquering and happiness from earlier are gone. Replaced by a sad stare. He looks as if someone just slapped him.

Thomas’ mouth opens and closes while he tries to think of what to say. He pinches the bridge of his nose and removes his hat.

“Did Polly tell you?”

Tell me what? In case he hasn’t noticed yet, I’ve been kept in the dark with many important bulletins as of late. 

“I take that as a no.” Thomas lets out a deep breath. “Lizzie, she’s… pregnant.”

Tug! My body goes still and I grip the dish towel even harder. The blood drains from my face. My heartbeat screams in my ears. I lean against the wall, keeping my shocked, distraught face hidden away. All this time…

“Th-That’s wonderful, Thomas,” I manage to say through my shreiking thoughts. “Another baby is another blessing.”

I feel Thomas put his warm hand on my tense shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Alright? Alright?! Is he fucking joking?!

“Yes, just tired.” I pull away and fling the towel onto the counter, changing to a colder persona. “Is there anything else, Mr. Shelby?”

My heartless tone hits Thomas square in the chest. A sorrowful look freezes over his face. Good.

“No.”

“Congratulations again. I’m sure Charlie will be happy to have a sibling.”

I rush back to my room and fight the urge to slam the door right off its hinges. It’s happening all over again. They have a baby, he marries her, I’m pushed away again. Sticks and stones, best wishes to them both. At least Grace brought a sense of peace to Thomas. Lizzie only seems to bring out the rough side of him.

Lizzie Stark? Lizzie fucking Stark. Back to his old ways. He will kiss any woman but me. Always another woman. Just when he starts to open up, he uses someone else. Is my love invisible to him? There he goes again, back to Lizzie while I’m taunted for being single. 

Thud! That was the front door.

Yes. Go, Thomas. That’s one fucking context clue you pick up on! I want to be alone.

I’m just another whore to you, Thomas Shelby. You’ve said it yourself. We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves. I’ve sold you my time. Each year I saved my time for you and your family, your Shelby Company Limited. And for what? 

Ring! Ring!

If that’s Lizzie Stark I’m going to rip the phone clear from the wall! I roughly pick up the receiver. On the other end I hear the distinct chatter of two people.

“Verena?”

No. No. No. I do not need a talk full of pity.

“Please, Finn… Not now. You too, Ada.”

I hear Ada sigh. “He told you?”

I choke back a sob and wipe the pooling tears from my eyes. “Yes. God smiles on us again.”

“Verena-”

“PLEASE!” I shriek and cover my mouth to keep myself from breathing too fast. “Just- Just leave me be.”

I hang up before they can argue. That does it. I’m not playing this game anymore. As soon as this bloody fight is over I’m packing my bags for home! Company employee or not, I will not stick around to work in these harassing conditions. Despite my lingering love for that klootzak, it’s not enough to win me over to stay anymore. No more moral obligation. My debt is finally paid.

Maybe I will be too cold, Thomas. Too empty and numb. But I’ve followed you around too long, hoping you might love me back. If this is what it takes to earn love, it’s a cost I’m not willing to pay.

And yet even if I’m leaving for good, my heart will never be free from you.

@meadows5

[sugar-omi]

i couldnt wait for sugar daddy baxter/cove to come around so i was prepping but ykw, the best things deserve to be served twice

DAY SEVENTEEN — FINGERING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, fem/afab + bottom reader, sugar daddy au, squirting + mean dom baxter, degradation, (semi) public sex, begging, mind break, daddy kink, car sex (dont be like baxter n drive while doing it</3) + soft dom cove, caught masturbating, praise, mentioned phone sex/sexting, overstim/edging

synopsis : cove comes back early from a trip and catches you having fun by yourself. he can't resist after such a sight. / baxter finger blasts you in the car on the way to a business dinner, it's his fault you make such a mess.

BAXTER

"you're getting my car dirty with your nasty juices." baxter smacks his lips, his fingers curling against your walls.

you whine, throwing your head back and grinding on his fingers desperately. "im sorry daddy, I'm sorry.."

he rolls his eyes, expertly turning the corner with one hand. "you don't seem sorry. you're grinding against my fingers like a desperate bitch."

you moan loudly. fuck you loved when he degraded you...

"please!"

"please, what? please give me money? please give me dick? what do you want slut, use your words." he pulls out his fingers, wiping them on the front of your dress.

you whine, your hole clenching around nothing. "no! daddy, please!" you're about to cry, tears welling up in your eyes. you want his fingers so bad, you were so close...

"clearly you can't think with my fingers in your cunt, so pick your brain outta your panties and use your big girl words."

you squirm, wanting to grind against the seat but you know that won't turn out well for you. "i.. i want you to make me cum. please. please make me cum..." you beg, reaching over the console to palm his bulge, a better alternative to touching yourself. maybe it'll sway him.

baxter lets you grope his dick through his pants, and even lets you unbutton his pants and and slip your hand into his bottoms, your hands expertly wrapping around his length and you give tight strokes in the confined space, running your thumb of his head.

he hums and haws, playing up his consideration as he tries to keep his focus on the road. - which isn't hard when you've had much practice playing around while in the car or on the road...

"please?" you beg, leaning forward against your seat belt, hoping that he falls for your batting eyelashes.

baxter curls into the parking lot of your destination, and you snatch your hand from his pants when he pulls up to the till before the security guard there sees, praying he doesn't notice baxter's open button or somehow finds out your naked cunt is leaking on the leather seats.

you squirm, waiting for baxter to finish the brief interaction. it feels like it's going on for forever but in reality it's just a couple minutes before baxter is pulling into a space.

he pops his seat belt, letting it snap into place and does the same with yours.

"ba- mhm!" his lips interrupt your words, his hand slipping up your thigh and under your skirt.

he's practically sitting in the middle console, trying to be as close to you as possible.

much to your relief his fingers find there way back to your weepy cunt, you're clenching around his digits, grinding down on his fingers so they keep grinding against that perfect spot.

"you look so good like this. if only we didn't have somewhere to be.." baxter yearns, curling his fingers against your walls, bullying that same spot.

your back arches off the seat, grinding on his lithe fingers. you pant, your leg bumping against the door and wrinkling baxter's jacket in your fist.

"baxter! baxter!" you cry, feeling pressure building in your tummy. "i'm-i'm gonna make a mess.." you squirm, trying to get away from his fingers.

it's fruitless, since you just pin yourself against the seat, forcing his fingers deeper against that spongy spot, pushing you over the edge.

your head hits the back of the seat, your foot bumping the dashboard.

baxter just watches in awe, your juices weakly squirting from your cunt, some of it soaking into the mat, your squirt running down your butt and soaking into your skirt.

he works you through your orgasm, rubbing your clit until you're squirming and pushing his wrist away.

you pant, clinging onto baxter's sleeve.

he coos, wiping your wet cheeks and kissing your cheek. "so good.. you did so good."

he slips his fingers past your lips, and you mindlessly lap up your mess. "good girl.. it's a good thing we went shopping today huh? wait here, i'll get your clothes. my partners can wait— fashionably late and all that." he waves his hands animatedly, going to get out the car.

"oh!" he looks over his shoulder, an innocent look on his face. "i didn't tell you to cum, and you made a mess in the car. so you'll have to be punished later, okay darling?" he purrs.

you nod, anticipating later tonight...

COVE

"cove..." you sigh, arching your back to grind down on your fingers.

cove went on a business trip, something about opening a new branch and he had to check out the location. to you, it's just a bunch of bullshit. what could possibly be more important than his baby?

even though he told you it was just for the weekend, it felt like ages without him here to fill up your days. and he didn't even leave you with more than a parting kiss...

you whine, pumping your fingers in and out your loud, messy cunt faster.

"cove, cove, cove..." you cry, feeling pressure build in your tummy. you curl your fingers against your g-spot, grinding your clit against your palm.

you squirm and twist the sheets under your feet, trying to reach your fingers deeper inside of you as if to pull out your orgasm.

you pant and huff, keeping up your movements and hoping this time will be it but... nothing. the pressure is there, you're so close but you just.. can't...

"y/n?" cove's voice calls, and you think you're hallucinating until you look up and see him holding the door open with wide eyes. you fly up from the pillows, snapping your legs closed around your hand.

"c-cove!" your voice cracks, you squirm, tugging your hand free from between your legs. "um.. what- what are you doing back?"

you try to act normal, as if you aren't in his t-shirt and in his bed, fingering yourself without success.

"i got to come home early. i take it you didn't see my message?"

you cringe, glancing at your phone still charging on the other side of the room.

"that's okay, baby." cove reassures, crossing the room in a few long strides, kneeling on the bed to cup your face. "i'm here now, and i think you deserve something for waiting for me.."

you squirm, trying to keep your eyes from fluttering when your clit grinds against the sheets. "how.. how much did you see?"

cove's nose brushes against yours, his face and body so close you're itching to get a hold of him already...

"baby, i could hear everything from the stairs." cove grins smugly, happy with your flustered reaction and you feel hot, a blush running from your cheeks to your ears.

he steals a small kiss from you, pushing you back into the pillows, forcing your legs open to slot himself between your knees. "i think it's cute you missed me so much..."

you inhale shakily, curling your fingers around the sheets, cove's finger dragging along your weeping slit.

"cove..." you mutter, pushing back on the digits he slipped inside of you, feeling much better with his fingers inside you instead.

his fingers curl against your walls, your cunt squelching.

"you're so wet.. is this what you've been doing all day?" cove quipped, sinking his fingers deeper into you, pumping his fingers in and out your messy cunt.

you pant, squirming. "i.. i missed you." cove coos, "poor baby, and you couldn't finish could you?"

you nod, "ahh.." you push back on cove's fingers, his fingertips grinding against your walls, your stomach swirling and tightening.

cove kisses you, swallowing up your whines and moans, his other hand slipping under "your" shirt to grope your chest. he can barely speak between kisses, not wanting to stray too far from you. "don't worry, *kiss* i'm here now, let me take care of you, okay?"

"please, please..." you beg, pushing back on cove's thick fingers.

he shushes you, kissing down your jaw to your collarbone. "you're so pretty, you should be rewarded for waiting so long."

cove curls his fingers against your bladder, abusing the squishy spot.

he lifts up your shirt, latching onto your chest and leaving hickeys behind on your tender skin until he reaches your nipples, sucking and grazing the bud with his teeth.

"cove.." you gasp, dragging your nails down his back.

he pulls off your boob with a pop, nuzzling your cheek. "it's okay, go ahead and let go whenever you want."

you fret, clinging onto his shirt. "but-but i don't want-hahh, it to end.." cove's lips brush against yours, his long digits practically stirring up your messy insides. "we have all night ahead of us, i missed you too.." he kisses the corner of your mouth, working down your jaw.

"i told you when i got home i'd take care of you, all~ night..." cove drawls, lacing his fingers with yours.

you shake, your knee bumping against cove's side and your toes curling. "i-i'm gonna.." you pant, pushing back on cove's digits.

cove praises you, muttering in your ear about how sweet and pretty you look squirming on your digits. "i should have you like this more often... you look so good with my fingers inside you."

you gasp, cove's fingers curling near that delicious spot by your cervix. he bullies the spot, and your grinding hips help push you over the edge.

your legs shake, clamping around cove's waist as you make a mess in his hand, your cunt clamping around his digits as your fluids soak into the sleeve of his shirt.

"that's it.. fuck." cove groans, enraptured by the sight..

you melt into the pillows and sheets, some muscles in your thighs still twitching, not having half the mind to feel bad for your mess.

cove peels off the shirt, throwing it somewhere so he can work on his belt. "don't get tired on me now, we still have so much to catch up on.."

[wizzdot]

Sunshine

Chapter 2

Description: Ray finds out a little more about the 141’s current situation. You meet Johnny, and see Gaz in the infirmary..

What the fuck were you thinking following the Lieutenant that you barely even knew. You’d crossed paths with him, what, twice? And not even spoken a word to him either time. Christ, Y/n you really are a stupid bitch..

You stomp along behind Ghost for maybe 5 minutes before he rounds a corner and nods at a black, clearly military, jeep.

“Get in, we’re goin’ back to base”

You scowl at his commanding tone, and climb in the passenger seat, dumping your bags in the footwell between your legs and slumping in the seat, sticking to the chairs thanks to the absolutely soaking that the rain had given you.

The Lieutenant starts the engine and bounces it roughly off of the curb he had parked poorly on.

“Jeez Louise, LT.. you’ll give the lassie a concussion if you drive like ‘aht”

The tin of soup is held aloft ready to smash the stranger in the head until the Lieutenant’s huge paw smacks it from your hand.

“He’s friendly, drop your weapon, Ray” he jokes.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you hiding in the back of the car..?” You growl at the Scottish man, you already knew was ‘Soap’, a member of the 141. He didn’t need to know that you knew who he was though, and you could tell it hit him in the ego a bit when you pretended not to recognise him.

He recovers quickly though, you’ll give him that. He smiles brightly “name’s Johnny, or Soap, and I wisnae hiding. LT said you’d be more likely you come if we didn’t go in mob handed, so I stayed behind..”

“I can still open the door and roll myself into traffic.. don’t fuckin’ test me. I’m coming back to check Gaz, then I’m out. I’ve not agreed to anything or signed anything..” you threaten in a deadpan tone.

Soap gulps and his smile fades slightly. “LT, Cap said she was…. awkt, how’d he put it? Aye thats right.. a ray of sunshine.. you sure you got the right one..?”

“I’m sure Johnny. Now shut up. Don’t need her rolling herself into traffic…” the Lieutenant replies to the chatty Scot. You catch his reflection in the wing mirror and can tell that it physically pains the man to actually shut the fuck up. His eyes are dart in from object to object, his mouth dropping open only for his brain to kick in and remind himself to keep quiet.

The rest of the drive is silent. Perfect.

The truck pulls into base, and you aren’t even taken through security which you thought was strange. The Lieutenant lurches to a halt and cranks the handbrake on, climbing from the vehicle. You follow suit, donning your two rucksacks and your ratty plastic bag filled with your shitty groceries and wine.

“Here lass, I’ll get that for you..”

“Touch me, or anything that belongs to me, and you’ll lose your hand, Soap.”

He retracts his hand as if you’d given him an electric shock. The Lieutenant huffs a laugh.

“This way” the Lieutenant grunts. You follow, with soap trailing behind, kicking stones glumly.

You’re led to an office.

‘Captain J.Price’

‘TF-1-4-1’

Here we fuckin’ go you roll your eyes. The door is opened and you step through the threshold.

“Welcome back, Soldier” the Captain speaks, standing to shake your hand. You ignore him and turn away.

“Not coming back, and not a soldier. Just want to check Gaz ain’t dying” you reply stubbornly.

“He’s sitting up and chatting today. Took a fall from a chopper, poor lad. He cheered right up when I told him you were joining the team” - “seems cruel to give him false hope, does it not, Captain?”

“What did my Lieutenant tell you..?”

“Whoa whoa whoa. I’d like to start off by saying, firstly, I don’t appreciate being tracked down. I also don’t appreciate sending your fuckin’ guard dog to break into my flat and come and fetch me, I also don’t appreciate that fact that you’re just assuming I’ll fall back into the obedient soldier role. I’m not even your soldier, never was, Sir” you smile tauntingly.

“Now, you will take me to Gaz, I’ll have a quick chat with him, and I’ll be on my way - I’m not signing up for this shit again..”

You stare down the Captain who remains silent before the Lieutenant speaks up.

“This shit? What, like it’s worse than what you’ve been doing for the past coupla’ years? Your shitty, mouldy flat, getting groped by drunks at the Rose and Thorn, the tackiest pub in the East? Really? Like you’ve got anything whatsoever that’s better than this..” he huffs laughing.

You clench your jaw and try not to snap. Physically or emotionally. He was right. You’d been horrifically depressed for years. Considered ending it all a few times but you were too much of a coward for that.

“I’ll find the infirmary myself, and then see myself out..” you slam the door behind yourself and leave the three men behind.

Thankfully, you find signs for the infirmary and follow them, finding the correct place. The lady behind the front desk glares daggers at you. “Visitor for Kyle Garrick” you say monotonously.

“Room 3, you have ten minutes, he’s already had visiting time for the day” she whips sourly at you.

“Yeah, whatever” you spit back, storming to the correct door.

Kyle practically jumps out of his skin as you crash through the door. “Jeez, Ray.. you scared me half to death” he jokes, laughing.

“You don’t look as bad as I was expecting. They made it sound like you were on deaths door..” - “what? Nah, mate. Just some internal bruising and a chipped bone in my hand..”

“So I didn’t need to visit then?” You remark bluntly. Kyle’s smile drops slightly. “Well, it’s nice to see you.. I mean.. you left.. suddenly?” he tries.

“Yeah, and now your team are trying to get me to come back, using you as leverage. Know anything about that..?” you accuse.

Kyle looks guilty as sin.

He gulps before starting to attempt to explain.

“Well.. Cap’s been trying to get you since I joined. Laswell only gave him clearance to take on one rookie. He noticed your file remember..? And when I mentioned about my wallet.. and then I got hurt.. the plan sort of fell into place. We’d track you down and try and make an offer… we really need someone like you on our team, Ray..”

“Yeah, the wallet was a sneaky fuckin trick, Garrick. Not gonna forgive you for that one. And now that I’ve seen you’re not on death’s door…” you speak as you walk back towards the door.

“Y/n!”

No one calls me by my real name..

“Wait.. please..”

You don’t want to. You want to leave this god forsaken place and not look back. But I hesitate. And that hesitation changes everything..

[iris0gardens]

〣"Run Baby, Run"〣 - Wrench x FEM!Reader

_"you think you ever left my mind? I WAS CRAZY ABOUT YOU."_

TW/TAGS: Romance implied, Violence, Blood, Wrench being Wrench, DEPRESION AAA-

Description: Wrench left San Fran to leave his dedsec Days behind after some drama had happened, going to london to seek revenge for a busted deal. However one particular person didnt seem to stay behind as Wrench has hoped.

Footsteps echoed across the hallway as laughter was heard from the direction Wrench ran from. His Heist of receiving blueprints a bust, someone managed to hack into the system he thought was under his control. Displays all around him displaying a laughing Hare mask, the laughter resembling a female as guards ran across the hallway.

Wrench cursed under his breath as he kept running, attempting to navigate the maze of a building in a hurry as laughter was heard from every place a monitor stood. He wasn't aware he was being tracked or followed as he prepared for the heist and neither did he know the hare mask displayed on the various screens he came across. The male went through every single scenario as to how this heist could've been a bust until he heard an explosion from one of the directions he came from along with a female voice coming from a mega phone "SUP BITCHES, THIS IS HARE TERRITORY NOWW HAHA". The familiar feeling of knowing that voice popped up in his head but due to the circumstances had no time to think about it as he ran out of the building.

Wrench looked around in panic for a car as his LED googles displayed exclamation marks, as soon as he saw a car close by , he sprinted towards it as he heard guards yell for him and shots being fired before another explosion went off. His heart beating heavily as he took out his phone, hacked the cars security system, jumping in and driving off. As soon as he got further from the wreckage, Jackson came onto his com channel. "Dude, what happened?!" Wrench asked hastily as he sped around corners.

"Seems like the Hare really wanted the servers for herself. She wasn't active for years before you came around.." Jackson explained, his voice at the end turning into a mere mutter as he thought of possible explanations. "Did you make any enemies here in London, Wrench?" He asked as Wrench nervously chuckled in response. "Not that I can think off, I piss off people here and there BUT NOT A MAFIA BOSS LIKE THE HARE." he responded annoyed. Jackson laughed into the coms "alright alright, don't get your panties in a knot, Wrench. I will figure out why The Hare wants those servers and you think of ideas as to why she knew you were there."

Wrench signed off the coms and proceeded to make his way back to his safehouse, running through every possible solution as to why the Hare knew but non seemed plausible. Once he came across the thought of the Hare sounding similar to an old friend, he shook his head in disbelief. +It cant be anyone from san fran. Marcus told me everyone was around and safe..+ he thought as he pulled up to the complex, jumping out the car and hurrying up the stairs.

As he got into his safehouse, he closed the door and put his back against the door, sliding to the floor and letting go of a deep sigh he didnt feel before. He barely got out but somehow managed to with the help of The Hare distracting the guards. However he wasnt sure if they shared the same side.

"You know. For a tech Master, you suck at hiding your traces to the fullest extend" A soft female voice rang out and Wrench shot up in shock. He pulled out a gun which happened to be Princess ratarat as looked around frantically, trying to figure out the source of the voice and its owner. "Dont worry Wrench, im not here to hurt you." The female called out as she took notice of Wrenchs panic "I just wish to talk to you..old friend." from behind another wall, a female silhouette walked around with her hands on her waist and a firm stance.

"The hare?! wha- I dont fucking know you and how you got into my home but I highly suggest getting the fuck out" Wrench threated as anger began to boil into his body. How dare this masked stranger think they could just walk into his home without any consequences and especially how they managed to.

"Such a shame. I thought we could share a beer and laugh about it. Like good ol times." The female laughed as she proceeded to slip off the hare mask, revealing it to be Y/N, Wrenchs good old friend.

"I- no..noo. I must be fucking dreaming."Wrench said in disbelief, seeing his old friend and partner in crime right in front of him. "you..I must be high, Marcus said you all were in san fran and you forgot about me.."He explained as he put his gun down slowly, not believing the reality he was currently in.

"forgot about you? Oh darling, I never did. After you left, I was in deep pain because of the hole you left in my heart. YOU were the one who forgot about his friends and me. After everything we went through....you just turned your back on me and left." Y/N hissed out in anger as their E/C darkened. Her body language tensing up and hands clenched into tight fists to the point you can barely see them turning white. "YOU CONFESSEED TO ME AND IN THE NEXT MINUTE LEFT SAN FRAN. NOT CONSIDERING HOW I FELT. IT WAS ALL A ROUGE WAS IT? FOR YOU TO ESCAPE AND GIVE ME A LAST BIG FUCK YOU, Y/N?! I BET I LEFT YOUR MIND AS SOON AS YOU SAW AN ESCAPE"

"you think you ever left my mind? I WAS CRAZY ABOUT YOU." Wrench yelled back. "I WANTED TO TAKE YOU WITH ME SO BADILY BUT I WAS IN A HURRY, I WANTED TO TELL YOU-" His mask turning into red as he proceeded to lift his mask up, throwing in to the side as he looked at her with hurt and anger. "I literally couldn't as I knew you would get hurt trying to follow me. You have no fucking idea how many times I wanted to reach out to you." As he explained his true intentions, his expression turned into sadness as he realised how much he hurt her. Y/N on the other hand approached him, starred deep into his eyes before slapping him. "you..fucker." she laughed out as tears began rolling down her face.

"you have no idea..how much you hurt me and how much I ached to see you again."The female laughed out with sadness as she looked down to hide her tears. Wrench sighed and proceeded to take her into his arms, putting his head ontop of hers as he muttered "I deserved that slap...but holy cow you got stronger"a small smirk creeping onto his face as he thought about the last time he saw her, so excited and happy to know he felt the same love she felt. That memory soon got interrupted by Y/Ns sobs and her holding onto Wrench trembling. They stood there for a couple minutes before the female quieted down, seeming to have calmed down.

"you..fucker."She whispered out before letting go of him, looking up to him with a smirk of confidence. "You believe I would be that stupid as to not follow you?..you are wrong, Reggie."Y/N said before grabbing his shoulders, pushing him down towards her level and crashing her lips on his. Before Wrench could react, she quickly pulled apart and went to grab her mask as he stood there dumbfounded . "As much as I would like to "catch up" about our feelings for each other. Unfortunately we have found ourselves on two different sides, making us enemies. So lets hope you can catch the Hare, sweetheart" she winked at him before putting on her mask and running out of his safehouse with her laughter following behind.

Wrench stood there for a moment before he looked towards the door his past love ran out of and breathed out a frustrated sigh. "fuck..She's gotten more confident."

-AYY as you can tell, I was a bit more inspired with the Wrench one as it was definitely fun to write. Let me know if you want more!-

-not keen on constructive critism as I do this as a way to enjoy myself and share it, so PLEASE NO COMMENT ON MY WRITING STYLE UNLESS ITS A GRAMMER ERROR. THAMK YOUU-

[chershire23]

Radio Rules.

(Warnings: Death, Gore, blood and mentions of rape.

I had a lot of fun writing this so i hope you all enjoy!)

“Who cares what they're wearing on Main Street, or Saville Row,” A female voice sings out as a young woman with hair, red as fire can be seen dancing through the trees. The night was dark yet the moon shone bright making it the perfect stage. This young woman didn't have many friends as people tended to avoid her. She didn't know why though. She was quite friendly yet her happy demeanor and seemingly never faltering smile tend to creep people out. A cracking of branches echoes to her right and she swings around to see what it was, falling silent as to listen for anything else.

 More rustling can be heard from her left and then even more to her right. The girl can feel her heart racing in her chest as she swings this way and that, trying to see who or what is making all the noise. Finally she decides to run. She runs as fast as her short legs could carry her. Just when it seems she would be able to make it to the road, she screams tripping over an upturned root. crying, she tries to crawl further away. She doesn't make it far though as a group of hands grab onto her legs. “Al!” She manages to scream out as she is dragged into the darkness.

Sam walks into the main room of the bunker where Dean can be seen playing a game of operation with Jack. “God Dammit!” Dean exclaims dropping the tweezers as he once again messes up causing the game to buzz. The young nephilim miles a little, doing his best to hold in his laughter as Dean throws his temper tantrum. “Hey guys, I think I found us another case.” Sam says as he puts his computer in front of his brother and adopted nephew. The article it was on said “30 People Missing In Less Than Two Weeks One Found Dead.” “It looks like it might be a big Vampire nest, at least based on the description of the one they found dead. The article further down says that the man found was completely drained of his blood.” Sam says, explaining the new case to them.

“Ok so let's head down and gank some blood sucking bitches and get it over with. Where is the case located?” Dean asks as he pushes away the game he was previously mad at. “That's the thing we are gonna need both Jack and Cas to teleport us there in order to prevent more deaths. It's in a city called Gillette, it's in Wyoming near the border of South Dakota. That's too far for us to drive.” Sam explains as he looks at Jack. “Well Cas should be back in a few minutes with dinner so we can eat during the drive after me and Cas get you all close to the town.” Jack says with a nod to the other two. 

An hour later the four of them arrive in the city of Gillette. They pull up to the nearest gas station and form a plan. “Okay me and Cas will do the FBI stuff and you guys act as toursest. We split up and look for any clues on who the vamps could be and where the nest is.” Dean says from the front seat of the Impala. Everyone agrees with the plan and they split up from there with Sam and Jack asking people around town about what has been happening and Dean and Cas take off to interview some of the relatives of the missing people. “Ok who do we want to talk to first?” Dean asks as he goes through a file case listing all the different people they might need to talk to. I say those who knew the most recent missing person.” Castiel suggests as he adjusts his tie and makes sure his weapons are hidden and secure and Dean nods in agreement.

Soon they come up to the first house and knock on the door. A scruffy looking man in his early twenties answered and it looked as if he had been crying. “Hello my name is agent Rob Bishop this is agent Jake Hopper FBI and we are here to ask you some questions about the most recent missing person, a Riely Altruist.” Dean says playing his role very well as the young man looks at him before nodding and letting them inside, leading them to the couch.

“I don't know what happened to her but I want to. I mean who wouldnt want to know what happened to their best fucking friend especily in a situation like this?” The young man who they have now identified as Logan Poxan says his voice breaking like he is about to start crying again. “Do you have any idea why anyone would have targeted her?” Cas asks him leaning forward, his eyes narrowed in concern for the girl as well as others who were kidnapped. “No not really, I mean Riely was fucking crazy but she wouldnt hurt anyone.” Logan exclaims and Dean then hands him a box of tissues allowing him to blow his nose. “Can you describe her to us personality and look wise so we can get a better view on why someone would kidnap her?” Dean asks as he leans back into his seat.

“Well she has red hair that tends to have a mind of its own half the time. She's a short little shit standing at 4’10. She was very friendly towards almost everyone and never seemed to frown. It was kinda creepy at times but you got used to it.” Logan says describing the young woman. “What about her build?” Cas asks watching for any signs of deception or him withholding information. “She was a little on the bigger side, not unhealthy or anything, she's just a bit chunky. Big boned ya know?” Logan says, looking between the two men.

 “Ok well we better go, we have a few more people to talk to. Here's our number, call us if you remember anything important that could help us with the case.” Cas hands the young man a fake business card with the number to one of their burner phones. Logan takes it with a grateful nod and walks them to the front door. They make it to the car and wave at Logan before driving away, they make it no more than a block away before Dean’s phone rings. Cas takes it and answers by putting it on speaker phone as Dean drives. “Whatcha got Sammy?” Dean calls out. Standing on the sidewalk near a tattoo shop Sam answers.

 “Well I know that the vamps were not picky in who they took. The victims were a mix of almost anyone you can think of from an old farmer to the young woman they took two days ago.” Sam explains watching Jack run across the street to him with two ice cream cones in each hand. He offers one to Sam who takes it gratefully as it was hot as balls out and thanks to Jack's Nephilim magic the other ice creams wouldn't start melting till he gave them to Dean and Cas. 

“I also think that the nest is somewhere in the black hills. It's about a thirty minute drive from here but that's where most people have gone missing.” Sam says before taking a lick of his ice cream. “OK we will pick you up and head there next.” Dean says, nodding to Cas to hang up the phone. “Dean, we will find them and we will save those who are still alive.” Cas says gently, taking Dean's hand in his.

(elsewhere)

The cell they had Riely locked in was cold, damp, and had blood splattered across the walls. Yet her smile never faltered, instead it just made it turn into a smirk. Also due to her biting, clawing and kicking habit the vampires have chained her up not allowing her to move her arms and there is a chain connecting her leg to the wall. A male vampire enters the cell blood dripping down his face and neck from his latest feed. “Jesus christ you are as creepy as the others say.” He says crouching down to be eye to eye with Riely. Her eyes just widen in amusement along with her smirk.

She gives no indication of fear, despite how terrified she is on the inside. Her grandpa always told her a smile was a powerful weapon and she was keen on using it especially in situations like these. She could actually get out of here anytime she wanted given the voodoo she was taught but she wants to save as many as she can and for that it requires patience. Not many will die and she knows that given how these vampires like to slow feed. They like to keep their victims alive as long as possible and full of liquids to produce more blood for them. Essentially using them as cattle for slaughter.

“Don’t worry though creepy one, your turn will be soon and i bet your blood is very rich. I also bet if I asked the boss would let me have my own way for you when I get to feed from that neck of yours.” The Vampire says creepily whilst trailing a finger down the vain of her neck. Riely suddenly jerks her head down and latches tightly onto the vampire's hand. Jerking her head back and forth like a rabid dog, blood splattering onto her face. He screams out as he manages to rip his hand from her surprisingly sharp teeth and powerful jaws. He stares in horror at his hand and then her as she giggles manically, her feet slapping the ground in what one considers a playful manner.

“You crazy bitch!” he roars out before kicking her in the chest knocking her further to the ground. This doesn't stop her laughter though as she stares at him with burning hatred. He leaves slamming the cell shut behind him. She just stares after him waiting a few moments to make sure he is truly gone before moving to the side revealing a half finished summoning sigil.

(Back to the Winchesters)

Headlights can be seen as the Impala pulls off to the side of a rocky dirt road. “Ok we stop here and search for the nest.” Dean says as he shoves Baby's keys into his boot. They all get out of the car and walk to the trunk. Sam opens it before passing radios and machetes to everyone. “Okay we are gonna split into groups. This time I will go with Cas, Dean, you and Jack will go together. You find the nest radio in and we will meet you there as back up.” Everyone nods in agreement to the plan. 

(Time skip)

Dean and Jack are about an hour into their hike when rustling can be heard. Both men freeze, drawing their guns. While the gun will not kill the vampires it sure as hell will stun them long enough for someone to chop off their head. Dean and Jack are back to back turning in a circle. Then the bushes in front of Dean rustles and a bunny jumps out infront of them and Dean lowers his gun. “Really? We got scared by Bugs Bunny.” Dean grumbles and Jack stares at the rabbit intensely for a moment before saying, “But he doesn’t have gloves.” before turning and giving Dean a confused look.

Dean rolls his eyes but doesn’t get the chance to talk before he's knocked out with a baseball bat wielding vamp. “Dean! Get away from him!” Jack roars out as his eyes start to glow bright with angelic power. He doesn't get the chance to lash out though as another vampire wielding a bat knocks him out too. Both vampires grin maliciously at each other before dragging the two Winchester to their nest. Now they have four more cows for them to add to the herd. They load Dean and Jack up in the back of their truck next to Sam and Cas.

(an hour later)

All four boys wake up with splitting headaches. Their heads pounding as if they had been hit with a freight train. Castiel and Jack have cuffs with angel wards on them dampening their powers. And Jack, while he could break out of these, does not want to risk an outburst of power so close to his family. “Well well well, look who finally woke up! Evening sunshines!” A cheery voice calls out from next to them. All heads turn to the fiery redhead sharing their cell. Her face covered in bruises and blood. “Riely Altruist?” Sam asks hesitantly a little creeped out by her cheery demeanor and bright smile that seems to highlight all the blood.

“Yep, it's me.” she says with a bright smile. “You guys are the Winchesters right?” she asks him, her smile unwavering. “Yeah and how do you know about us?” Dean asks now somewhat suspicious. “Oh everyone of the supernatural worth their salt Hunter or not knows about you guys.” She answers back. “Are you a hunter?” Jack asks her with a tilt of his head. “Oh, Hahahah no uh no i'm not a hunter. But let's just say this is not the first time I've dealt with the supernatural.” Riley giggles out and the boys look at her now really suspicious. “So do you guys have a plan to get out of her, because if not I do.” She says moving to the side to reveal the completed sigil.

“Is that a demon summoning sigil?” Castiel asks with a growl. He believed if this girl summoned a demon it would kill everyone. “Oh don't get your feathers in a bind. He won't hurt anyone unless they hurt me.” she says and in that moment two vampires enter the room. One of them was the creep from before. “Alright you crazy bitch it's your turn.” He sneers. But before they could move or the boys could protest she slams a freed and bloody hand onto the sigil shouting the incantation.  “Alastor daemonem rubeum in hos voco. Vocationem meam audi et nos omnes serva, et horum immortalium parasitorum carne remuneraberis. (Alastor demon in red heed my call. Free everyone here and you shall taste the flesh of immortal parasites.) “Please grandpa help us.” she whispers meekly, her body weak as a summoning spell takes a lot out of one so young.

The Sigil glows red and the lights above them flicker. The room shakes and the radio outside the cell distortedly starts playing the song “Never fully dressed without a smile”. Everyone is frozen in place as a shadowed inky hand emerges from the center of the sigil. It slams into the ground, claws splintering the wood as it pulls a body up from the depths of hell. This hellish creature stands up as ink drips off its body revealing a man dressed in red from head to toe, even his hair is red. But aside from coming from hell this being had some peculiar  attributes. He had antlers on his head, they were small but noticeable between two tufts of hair that look suspiciously like deer ears.

He stands still in between the captives and the vampires. One of the vampires steps forward his curiosity getting the better of him. Just as he reaches a hand out to touch this new creature, the red monster's eyes snap open. And like the rest of him they two are red as blood and slitted like a snakes. “Hmm are you the one who summoned me dear fellow?” he asks his voice distorted like it was coming from an old 30’s radio broadcast. “No i dont actually think you are you couldn’t possibly,” He goes into a rant but stops upon turning around and seeing the scene behind him. Riely his apprentice, his own flesh and blood. His great granddaughter, the girl he raised since her parents died in that horrid crash tied up in chains. Blood dripping down her face and hands. Her smile strained as she looks up at him.

“Hey papa.” She says before collapsing from exhaustion. Alastor rushes towards his granddaughter, catching her before she can hit the ground. “M̴͕͝ǫ̸̩̐n̸̨̎ ̴͙͉̽p̶͈͍̑ę̴̹̚t̷̟̺͗i̷̬̣͆̋ẗ̵͎́̀ ̶̗̂̉f̷̹͉͊a̴͕̿̚ǘ̵̢̱n̵̨͆̈e̶̘̓,̵̩̊̈́ ̶̧͊̆d̵̼̟̎i̴͍̙̔̅d̸̩̗̂̉ ̷͕̈́͝t̶̳̲͒͠h̶͍̱́͝ḛ̵̎̚ẏ̶͉̒͜ ̴̼̿d̶͎̤̓͝ǒ̵̖̬̿ ̸̻̣̄t̵͖̽h̶̲̃͗i̴͖͑͛s̴̨̈́ ̸̭̺̓̇t̷͙͘͝ỏ̸̫̊ ̸̰̄̈́y̵̝̬͂o̸̼͑u̵̪͆?̵͈̂͐” He asks her unconscious body his voice becoming distorted before snapping his head around like an owl towards the vampires. The unholy sound of his neck snapping causes everyone to flinch back in fear. Alastor gently places his granddaughter on the ground before standing up. With a flick of his wrist the chains containing Sam, Dean, Jack and Cas all fall to the ground. G̷̱̎̾ḙ̴̽t̵̤͝ ̴̛̞̀m̶̦͜͠y̸͙̿ ̵̮͇̃l̷̠͇̀͂i̸̞͊t̴͎̬̽̽t̴̠͝ͅl̶͍͈͝e̵͙̎͝ ̴̭͖̔ġ̴͇ị̵̿͘r̶̰̹͊̉l̷̰̅̃ ̵̼̈́a̶̯͆ṅ̶͛͜d̸̳̙͊̆ ̸͉̻̈â̶̮̊n̵̹̔̕ỵ̷̝͝ ̶͈̾o̵͙͌t̶̗̞̓h̶̥̓e̷̞̰̓r̵̮͖͐́s̵̞͛ ̶̣̻̐o̴͙͇̒ú̷̠͔t̵̬͕͒ ̴̞̇ó̸͍̜f̵̣̲̌͘ ̶͎̭̿h̴̦̳͛ẽ̵͎̙ŗ̷̗͐͌ẻ̵̪̦̓.̸̠̔ ̴̯̀I̵̠̬͑͝ ̴̠͆̈́w̶̮̱̅i̶̡̤͝l̴̙̑͌l̴̢̙̋̚ ̵̬̎͝d̶͓̤̽͝e̴̹̙͛a̴̛̟͂ͅl̴͖̐̋ ̷̠̅w̵̝̲̕į̴̃͘t̴̙̯̽h̶̥͉̕ ̵̻͚͌ṫ̶̮̖h̵̙̤͑e̷͕̯̐͆s̶̭̄e̸̼̓̿ ̴̩͛̕p̷̳̠̊͝ẹ̸̉̏ṣ̴̏t̸͓̆͌ş̶̗͑.̵̝̻̏ ̵̺͂͘. The boys hesitantly nod as Dean picks Riely up and carries her out of the nest laying her gently on the ground before running back in to join the rest of his family in freeing all the other hostages.

As Dean runs down the corridors looking for anyone else and keeping an eye out for vamps. He leans against a wall gun drawn as screaming could be heard. He looks over the wall down the next corridor and flinches as a vampire is thrown through a wall close by. It lays unconscious in the rubble and a giant figure emerges. Dean recognises it as the demon from before. Except this time it was bigger and its limbs including the neck and antlers had grown as well as became distorted. And his eyes had turned to radio dials. It grabs the vampire by the leg, picked him up and bites him in half. “Jesus.” Dean whispers but apparently it was loud enough for the demon to snap his head towards his direction.

Dean pulls out of the demon's line of sight before running down the hall. He doesn't pay attention though and is dragged into a room. Regaining his composure he pulls out his gun and points it at whoever just grabbed him. Riely stands in front of him with a smile still on her face after all that has happened. “You can put that down ya know.” She says moving the gun out of her face with a finger. “How? How the hell are you awake?” Dean stutters out confused as he just laid her outside unconscious moments ago. “You know i've always loved acting.” She says not fully answering his question.

“Now let's get everyone out of here. Don't want anymore deaths do you?” She questions him as he follows her through the halls. Eventually she leads him to a room where they find Sam, Jack and Cas all working quickly to unlock all the cells. They all start helping each other to heal and free all the captives. The room suddenly shakes as if an earthquake had hit. “Okay everyone we need to leave.” Riely says in a chipper voice. Her tone helping to calm everyone who was scared and hurt, making sure no more panic insured.

Moments later everyone stands outside the vamp nest which has now been revealed to everyone as an old military missile silo.

“Guess Vamps really will nest anywhere they can.” Sam says surprised that the U.S government hasn't noticed one of their own bases being used. “Yeah well the government only cares about how much they can tax from us and how much power they have over the public. It's quite entertaining ya know?” Riely says, smiling up at him. He givers her a nervous nod back before his attention is once more brought back to the entrance to the building.

The entire thing had gone up in flames. Debris flying left and right as the silo exploded. Everyone watches in a mix of horror and relief. “Now that was quite fun, yet Riely child you must really learn to better defend yourself. I won't always be there to protect you and you won't always be able to summon me.” A radio like voice said from behind them.everyone turns around with a jump and aside from the Winchesters what they see is not what they were expecting. Alastor stands behind him looking quite giddy and satisfied by the new meal he just had as well as the new entertainment he got to enjoy.

“Grampa!” Riely exclaims running to hug the man despite Cas’s attempt to hold her back. Alastor glady embraces her, running a hand gently through her hair. “I’m glad you are alright Mon petit faune.” Alastor whispers gently. “Ok how did you get out of there without any of us noticing.” An older man asks, confused at all he has witnessed in the last week. “Now my good fellow its best not to worry yourself about such frivolous things. I say we get all of you home and that you forget everything that has happened!” Alastor says with a joyful yet creepy smile that matches Riely’s. He then taps his staff on the ground twice and everyone aside from himself, Riely and the hunters disappear returning to their homes.

The Winchesters look around in shock. They knew first hand how powerful demons were but this is something else. This demon is more powerful than even yellow eyes. “Now that that's taken care of, I shall take Riely home and you boys can go on your way, hmm.” Alastor hums his smile tightening as he watches how stiff these men become. Subtly he places his cane in front of Riely like a makeshift shield. “I agree!” Jack suddenly exclaims. “I, I think we should go, and that we should let them go. I mean they did just save all those people.” Jack explains his shoulders shrugging a bit, his eyes darting from his family to the demon.

The adults hesitantly nod their heads. They turn towards the direction where Dean parked the car. But before they left Jack snapped a quick photo on his phone of Alastor. He wanted to show it to the others hoping that if he caused any trouble in the future they would remember what he looked like.

(Time Skip)

It had been a while since they left Gillette and Jack decided to Show the others the photo he managed to take. “Okay Jack let us see it. If it's not too blurry we’ll send it to the other hunters, tell 'em to watch out for the guy.” Sam says but when Jack opens up the photo its covered in static and voodoo sigils. “What the fuck?” Dean mumbles and it was then jack gets a text from an unknown number and the text says. “Never do that again. His face was only made for Radio. :)”

Mon petit faune = my little faun.

Taglist: @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[gurugirl]

Can I just make a shout out?

If you're on guru's patreon go read Better Man right now. She writes tension and slow burn like no one. The characters, the plot, the prose, the dialogue are so well done!

I'm in the middle of reading a published romance book and guru's writing is so much better. I can't even compare the story writing skills to be frank. I had to put down the published book and go back to read Better Man just to feel something before I clawed my eyes out in cringe.

Now on to the review for part 4. ‼️ TONS of Spoilers ahead ‼️

---------------------- do not cross this line if you haven't read or don't want part 4 to be spoiled ---------------------

The first section with Harry fighting with Claude and Dante, the flashback - I wanted to be mad at Anne but I get it. She's a victim too. Harry was a victim. I bet even Dante was. Claude is the devil. I hope he rots in prison.

And I was so happy to get a look into Harry's pov for everything. Poor man is just as sad.

His stomach twisted, the taste of bitter acid crawled up his esophagus at the thought. He wished he could have done something to make her smile but he felt like his heart was being ripped into shreds so all he could do was pat her back and tell her if she needed anything she could reach out.

I love her relationship with her sister. Makena is a real one.

But this inner dialogue got me.

Why was sticking up for herself so goddamn hard? She should be the first one to defend and care for herself, so why was she rolling over and just taking it?

I feel this so hard because I'm this way too. I want to be someone that speaks out for myself but it's not that easy most of the time. This is so accurate to the mind of someone who's been manipulated and emotionally abused.

ANDNDDDDD the whole part with Bronwyn! That was excellent bringing that back around! We got to see Bronwyn in the first part and we all knew something was up but we had no proof but the way things came back around and she saw her working at the store and she's not a jeweler like Dante said. Oh yeah. Gigs up motherfucker.

YN saying this to Bronwyn before she walks off.

Sell it, wear it, choke on it. I don't give a fuck. Good luck in life. You're gonna need it.

Bravo YN! 👏👏👏 I love this for her! And the way she didn't even cry until she called her mom! Honestly this just feels like the best resolution for that relationship. She had her badass moment and she ate.

Then Dante looking for her ring and he's blown away when she tells him what she did with it! He did not see that coming but her response to him was perfect!

Well you should have thought about that before you cheated on me. Hope it was worth it.

BADASS BITCH MOMENT 😎 She don't GAF about no $40k Cartier ring 💃

And let's talk about the final act. When she runs into Harry on the street and he has the best excuse to drive her home and help her carry up her stuff to her apartment. That whole part had my giggling and kicking my feet. She said her piece with him too and he was so kind and apologetic.

Personally I feel like that was a growth moment for YN. She was able to say what she wanted to Harry because she learned her worth. Where with Dante she hadn't had that confidence because he'd chipped away at her so much over all that time. But she felt secure enough to be honest with Harry. Harry is her safe space. Oh my god I'm bawling 😭 Beautiful character development moment!

THEN you turned the damn heat up.

ghosting his knuckles down her wrist and the back of her hand. "In how many ways can I say I'm sorry?"

I died right then and you only went and made the rest of that part so much better. Like reading that I had no idea that was just the tip of the iceberg for the way everything was going to go down.

This was a man she could trust. He was sincere and gentle.

Let me grab my fan real quick... 🥵

"Don't go." His footing wavered as he stepped forward into her. Y/n's back found her door as she grasped her other hand around his wrist to steady herself before she stumbled. "If I don't leave now then I'm gonna want to kiss you." "Okay. Yeah," she breathed. He leaned in, warm breath cascading over her cheek and her lips, and then his mouth brushed against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed as he lifted his free hand, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist as he cupped the other side of her face. "Yeah?"

Needless to say, the kiss was so good. That was a long time coming for them. Their first kiss and it was like I was there and he was kissing me.

Lazy tendrils of desire curled through her as she slid her tongue against his and savored the feeling of their kiss. A kiss she'd imagined so many times. A kiss that she'd dreamt of and woke up feeling remnants of on her skin. But this was real. Her body swayed into him as he moved in again, his chest against hers. He pushed his hand down the side of her neck and around the back, his huge palm cocooning the entire nape in its grip.

Why can't I have a huge palm cocooning the back of my neck RIGHT NOW?

I want to copy/paste the whole thing but it's thousands of words of slow building, kissing, touching, foreplay deliciousness! Every paragraph is perfection!

But then...

Y/n placed her hand over his and hooked a finger into the fabric to pull at it. "If you want…" His nostrils flared as he looked back into her eyes. "If I want?" A hot breath puffed from his mouth as he flitted his gaze down before pinning his pupils back onto hers, "Y/n… it's not about what I want. Because I'll take it all. I want every inch of you. I have for a long time. I need to know if you want it too. And I don't just mean this. I mean everything."

TAKE ME KING! YOU CAN HAVE EVERYTHING!

Mind you in this scene below they are both naked, on her bed, haven't yet had sex as he's taking his time with her. He's knelt behind her with her back to his chest and some reason this all just makes it so much hotter.

Y/n turned to look at him behind her and he grasped her chin before he pushed his lips into hers softly. When she wiggled back against him he let go of her hip and brought his palm up to her breast. Rough calluses scraped at her tender skin and she moaned into his mouth.

DOA ☠️

And the way you keep describing Harry is just chef's fucking kiss. He's a construction worker and he's just gotten off work so this bit is just reminding us of the reality. He's a little stinky after working hard all day. I'd still gag on him so violently it's not even funny.

Y/n could smell his sweat. The briny, masculine scent of a man who'd worked hard all day. The smell of a man who needed a little respite. A little relief from working his muscles and his body so hard for hours on end.

I need him your honor. 🫨🫨🫨

It was lewd. Lewd the way she wrapped around him so tight and pretty. Lewd the way her arousal left a creamy ring at the base of his cock. Lewd the way her pubic hair got enmeshed in his when he bottomed out. Lewd the way her soft voice was moaning and gasping in breaths. Lewd the way she fucked herself back against him for more.

Then how he almost came so he had to pull out and the position change! VERY ACCURATE

The whole smut scene was immaculate and long and descriptive and I read it twice and then jumped my boyfriend's bones because I was so hot and bothered.

The ending!! I can't! The fact that Harry was fucking Y/n while his brother and dad were getting arrested! That was so satisfying!

Every part of this was insane, guru. I can't wait til the last part of the series! (well I can because I don't want it to ever end)

Thank you for sharing this story with us! I'm beside myself over this one and I'll be reading it again tonight. My boyfriend is probably thanking you without even realizing who he's thanking for my sudden sex drive jump. It's like I'm in heat 🥵

13 thousand plus words of literal perfection.

Okay, anon... You are wayyyyy too nice to me! I know that for some of those published romance books (was just talking to someone about this the other day) they are just whipped out and hardly worth reading.

That's not to say my writing is better by any mean but I have found some of the best authors to date on tumblr and wattpad. Anyway! I do appreciate your amazing compliment of my work hon.

Now to the review!!! Oh. my. gosh! I'm blown away by this. I don't know what more I can add except to say thank you and that Y/n did have a big character development moment! That's what everything revolves around. She went from being with a man who tore her down and wore her out to finding herself and her confidence when she broke up with him - then finally she ends up with ... a better man (lol).

I absolutely love that your boyfriend also benefited hahaha! That is obviously part of the goal here. I do enjoy writing some spice for y'all too :)

Really, truly, thank you hon. I always get worried my stories are a bore or taking too long to get to the spice (at least in this one) and so knowing that someone really liked it makes me smile cause it's honestly hard to tell sometimes if y'all really do like something or not - so... ahhh thank you!!!

xoxo

[chalkrevelations]

So then we cut to the car, and let's be honest here - Night's request for Day to put on his seatbelt - which Day initially ignores and then acts like an ass about complying with - is 1) a request designed to keep Day safe and 2) a request that would be made of anyone in the car and has nothing to do with Day's disability. But Day's spoiling for a fight, because whether Night meant it this way or not, his reactions to Day's difficulties inside the Institute are being seen as an "I told you so" and an enforcement of the idea that Day can't function on his own - it's another brick in the wall of enforced dependence.

And this is a place where I wish we knew more about the relationship between the two of them before the accident because I gotta tell you, when Mom calls and tells Night to talk to Day about the documents - which sound like some kind of healthcare power of attorney - if I was Night, I'd'a been like, yeeeah, no. I'm going to wait to do that until you can be part of the conversation, so maybe your precious baby boy will be slightly less of an asshole. Because this gets us into the ugliest we've seen Day be to someone, all, "I know you want everything I have" and "Mom bought this car for me" and "I'll get my eyesight back and no one will ever care about you." FR, Bro? I'd'a treated you like you were no different from anybody else and pulled the car over and punched you in your nasty mouth for that last one. And now I really want to know what the relationships actually were like in that house, that Day throws his supposed favored son status in Night's face as aggressively as he does here.

Are we going to find out that Night bears some responsibility for whatever accident happened? I hope not, because that opens the door to more interesting possibilities.

The initial interaction with Mork strikes me as just having a convenient target, but watching this scene in the car, I wonder how much Day feels safe being a heinous bitch to Night because Night is family and can’t leave him (can't abandon him, the way Mork feels Rung did to him). Dad is entirely absent in the equation so far (heeeeyyyy, do we think he might have been killed in the accident, or was he already out of the picture, or has he left because he can’t handle all this?), and Mom is the source of security and comfort, presumably, and it’s too scary to think about doing anything to push her away, and you also don’t want to do anything to risk your position as her perceived favorite. But Night is a safe target. He’s the older brother, he’s supposed to be the bigger person, lit. and fig. He has to take all the shit you shovel onto him, right?

I would be much more interested to see that kind of dynamic dealt with than something as simple as oh, Night was driving the car when the accident happened.

And then Day throws a tantrum and literally walks into traffic, and Mork saves him, and we are pushing hard on the instant attraction thing, and I guess if it's a fuckable knight in shining armor, then it's fine for Day to play the damsel in distress, lol.

[ichigo-dream]

Sick At The Heart 4

Bliss. 

It’s the only word for it. 

Here, with your friend, with no expectation to leave, an open invitation with no expiry date, you can finally breathe. 

You lie on her sofa, sprawled out in a way that is the picture of calm and relaxation. 

Levi is securely away from you for now, and he has no authority to come barging in here without making a total fool of himself. The image of Levi squaring up to your friend’s father has you giggling where you lie, making your friend giggle too - contagious laughter and all that - though you think she must think you’re laughing at the TV. 

The weekend has passed in peace - you ate pizza, played video games, screamed like children at said video games, and laughed until your sides split. 

It’s paradise. 

You don’t tell her about Levi. About what he did. You know you could, but you don’t want to think about him. You don’t want to think about his hands, the way they make you feel, the way your heart races when you think about him. 

You’d much rather enjoy her company and pretend. 

When Monday comes, you’re not as nervous as you were when you arrived. No longer a jittery, teary ball of nerves ready to collapse in a heap on the sofa. In fact, you’d almost go as far to say that you’re back to normal. 

Or, at least, as normal as you can get these days, all things considered. 

“You know you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you want, babe!” Your friend says, sitting curled on the sofa next to you as you text your mum to tell her to come and get you. 

“I know.” You say, smiling back at her in gratitude. “Maybe next weekend, if you’re free?” 

Your friend scoffs incredulously. 

“If I’m free she says, what else would I be doing?” You laugh at that, and she kicks lightly at you teasingly. Back before your mum had gotten married again, you had spent nearly every weekend with her, comfortable in that routine. With the sudden expansion in the family, you’d felt it better to stick around the house more often, if only because Sunday Dinner suddenly became something which felt taboo to miss. 

Maybe, getting back into old habits wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

“She text you back yet?” She asks between footering with her phone, and watching edits and kicking her feet at them. 

You check.

Me: Hi mummy! You okay to pick me up at 1?

xo Mum xo: Yeah pet! I be there! Xoxo

Me: Awesome, see you soon! Xoxo

xo Mum xo: 👍 xoxo

“Yeah, she’s gonna get me in like ten minutes I think.” 

You both lapse into familiar silence, sprawled together and discussing the same things you have always discussed. 

As it always is with you two, time seems to pass in a flash and it isn’t long before you hear the tell-tale sound of tires on gravel, and you see the familiar shape of your mum’s car pulling into the drive. 

“That’s me now.” You say, standing and cracking your back with a groan. I’m getting too old to pull all-nighters, you think, grabbing your things and walking to the door. 

“Text me when you get home!” Your friend says, pulling you close for a hug and waving you off. 

You open the car door, tossing your bag into the footwell and getting in. 

“How’s it going?” You ask, not even looking up as you put on your seatbelt and wave to your friend. 

“Pretty shitty having to carpool on my day off, not gonna lie.” 

Your body freezes, praying that your mum had suddenly developed a severe throat infection causing her voice to drop and a penchant for swearing but as you turn you’re greeted with the familiar profile of Levi. He’s casual, black t-shirt on despite the heat, and sunglasses sitting low on his nose. He turns to you, looking over the rims.

“But I guess life’s a bitch huh.”

You say nothing as he puts the car in gear and drives off. The drive is silent, the radio on low and Levi tapping gently on the steering wheel. But you can’t focus on that. The whole space is filled with Levi, his presence, his scent, his sounds. It’s filling your head, and your legs tremble slightly. 

“Did you have fun?” Levi asks, and the sound of his voice makes you jerk in surprise, having expected him to remain silent and brooding the whole way home. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it was fun.” You say quietly, keeping your eyes on the scenery passing by. You feel like Levi can hear the hammering of your tell-tale heart, that he’s aware of how much he’s affecting you without even looking at you. Although, he could be looking at you. You wouldn’t know. You’re trying your best not to look at him. 

“What did you get up to?” Another question. It makes your fingers clench in the fabric of your jeans. Does he actually want to know? Or is he just wanting to torture you? To lull you into a false sense of security? What does he want from you? Is he going to talk about it? Has he been thinking about it as much as you have? Has he been thinking about you too? 

“Not a lot.” You grit out. His nonchalance makes your skin itch and had he not been present, you would have been rubbing at your arms or shaking out your hands. You settle for pressing on your nails, adamantly refusing to look at him. “Just the usual.”

The both of you lapse back into silence. 

The radio buzzes in the background.

“You’re not working today.” He speaks again, and you inhale slightly. It’s phrased like a question, but Levi manages to make most things he says sound like statements or, often and much to the dismay of others, judgements. 

“They weren’t looking me in today.” He hums at your answer and you’re desperately tempted to glance round at him, to look at him, but you resist the urge. It’ll only confuse you more. 

“Thanks for lifting me.” You say, hoping that politeness will temper any bad mood or feelings that might be forming inside him at the fact that he’s had to waste time collecting you. 

“It’s no bother.” He replies, and his voice is deadpan and tired as usual, but his meaning is soft. Maybe he’s being soft for you.

You put the notion out of your head.

“Why’re you in Mum’s car, by the way?”

“She’d blocked me in. Plus she was heading out to some bullshit, I don't know, I wasn’t listening. She asked me to get you and said I could take her car cause she was taking Kenny’s.” He explains, and you note the derision with which he says his uncle’s name. You know there’s some complicated history there, but the two of you aren't exactly close enough to get into it. Despite recent events, you don’t think it's the kind of thing you can just ask about out of the blue.  

“Makes sense.” You nod. You don’t see it but Levi looks at you briefly, greedily observing you before turning his eyes back to the road. 

The rest of the drive is spent in tense silence, and you’ve never been more grateful to see the familiar drive of your house. 

The gravel crunches under the tires as Levi pulls the car in behind his own, blocking himself in once more. 

As Levi pulls on the handbrake, you’re quick to reach to click off your seatbelt but his grip around your wrist stops you. 

Your breath hitches, your heart beating loudly in your ears as your nerves fray once more. Levi’s touch is firm, warm, and overwhelming.

He does nothing more than hold your hand in place. 

“You wait.” He says firmly, gunmetal eyes flashing as he looks at you, sunglasses held in his fingers about the steering wheel. “You wait until I turn the car off before you take off your seatbelt. No one ever teach you vehicle safety? Christ, and you want to live on your own?” He scoffs. 

You want to rage against him, to gnash your teeth and tell him what a complete bastard he is sometimes, but you don't. The weight and warmth of his hand is making you stumble around your own thoughts, and words are harder to form. 

His eyes are too intense, and your own flick briefly to his hair, falling into his face in a way that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. You notice the cut by his hairline. 

“It’s healing up.” You say, the words out of you before you realise you’ve said them. 

Levi’s grip tightens minutely, his eyes taking on that strange look again, the same one from that night. 

He nods, watching your face for any flicker of feeling. 

“You winded yourself pretty badly.” He says, and if you were being generous to yourself, you’d go as far to say that his voice may even be tinged with guilt. “You’re not bruised right?” 

His face is guarded, but his concern seems genuine. 

You mumble out a “no”. He doesn’t need to know that you are. That’s not important right now. You haven’t prepared yourself for this conversation. In fact, you’ve been actively avoiding it. Levi seems content to watch you eerily, and the tension in the car doesn’t bode well for you. 

What’s behind me doesn’t matter. 

With that thought, you pull from his grip and open the door, quickly making your way up to the front door. 

You’re in the hall when you hear his door shut and you quickly make your way upstairs, hoping to kill the time in your room until your mum gets back. Quickly, you make your way up the stairs, and into your room, dropping your bag at the foot of your bed. 

The click of your door has you spinning around in time to see Levi place the chair under the door handle, just like you’ve taken to doing these past few nights. Though, where it is intended to keep him out, now all it’s doing is trapping you in here with him. 

You tremble, stepping backwards as he turns those piercing eyes on you once more.

He takes a sure step forward, backing you up against the wall, his arms blocking out your peripherals, so you have no choice but to focus on him. 

You whimper in fright and something shameful you don’t want to acknowledge. 

“I don’t appreciate being lied to.” He whispers, his breath ghosting over your lips.

Oh, Christ. 

Notes:

In the words of Nico from DMC 5: I know, I know, I'm late!

Apologies that there's been such a delay with this chapter - life has been hectic recently and I just haven't had the chance to sit down and crack into this fic in a while.

Hopefully though, I'l have the next chapter up for you soon - it's already in the works - and that updates won't be nearly as delayed! (Plus, I think you'll enjoy what's coming ;) )

Thank you again for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

Love always, Ichigo xoxo

[ch4p3lofbl00d]

Don't Worry About that Bitch~Ricky Olson

Imagine Ricky being on tour for 3 months, and him surprising you at your college campus. When he gets there, he hears your friend making fun of you and cussing you out, telling you that you shouldn't have a boyfriend because she didn't have one and you did. Ricky stands up for you, and brings you back to his house, and both of you watch movies

Ricky Pov

I'm currently on the way to my girlfriend, Y/N, college campus to surprise her. I've been on tour for the past 3 months, and I know that Y/N is trying to finish her school. She is ahead of everyone else in the entire school. I smiled, thinking about how proud I am of my girl. She has been doing college, since she was 15. Now, she's almost 17, and she's been doing the same college courses for Cyber security for almost 3 years. Y\N has been battling through, anxiety and depression, but she's still doing all in her power to finish school. I smiled, as I pulled into the campus parking lot. Okay, she should be in the cafeteria with, Layla, her friend. I turned off the car, and got out, closing the door behind me. I started walking towards the room, where the cafeteria is. As I was walking, I heard somebody yelling. I recognize that voice, it's Layla. Who is she yelling at?! I stopped walking for an moment, as I heard another voice. Shit. That's Y/n's voice. Why the fuck is Layla yelling at my girlfriend for?! I started running towards the cafeteria. As I was walking in, I could see Layla on top of Y/N, about to punch her. I dragged Layla off of Y/N, and helped Y/N up from the floor. I wrapped an arm around her, and brought her closer to me. I glared at Layla, and said

"Why the fuck, would you try to hit my girlfriend?!"

I saw Layla scoff, and say

"She deserves it, that's why"

I rolled my eyes, and said

"Bullshit. It's obvious that you're jealous of her"

I hear Layla scoff again, and say

"She's a bitch, and she gets everything that she wants"

I rolled my eyes again, and said

"I think you're talking about yourself"

I grabbed Y/N's hand, and walked her to my car. When, we got there, Y/N started sobbing. I hugged her right, and kissed her head. After a few minutes, I started driving to my house. Y/N had told me all the shit that Layla said to her. Like,

"you fat bitch"

"Ricky would want me more, I have bigger boobs"

"you're a whore"

Y/N has big boobs, and she doesn't shove socks in her bra either. When, we get back to my house I'm letting Y/N watch whatever she wants. I just pulled into the driveway; I quickly got out, and carried Y/N inside. I laid her down on the couch, while I got some snacks. I laid down next to her, and turned on A-M-E-R-I-C-A. One of Y/N's favorite music videos. We just stayed there on the couch for the rest of the night, watching music videos. I loved being on tour, but I love this more 🖤

Thank you for reading! :) I hope you enjoyed reading! :) 😊🖤