#(it was the ONLY way to get even a MOMENTS relief from the pain)

[autumnscribbles]

take care of you | rc

pairing: mommyissues!rafe x pogue!reader

summary: after a heated argument with ward, rafe seeks comfort from the only woman in his life who’s ever stayed

warnings: wee bit of theorizing about mama cameron (death)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hey friends!! thank you to the anon that sent this request in!! i love me a soft rafe moment who just needs to be held🥹 enjoy!! feel free to send me more angsty/soft rafe i love it!!!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Rafe slammed the truck door shut behind him, twisting his key into the ignition. Ward stood in the doorway ahead of him, his mouth moving but his words unheard. Rafe stopped listening to him even before he decided to leave. He couldn’t listen to it anymore. The rain pelted the windowsill, overpowering the pounding sound of his accelerated heartbeat. He pulled out of the driveway, no destination in mind. He just had to leave.

As he drove, his headlights broke through the rain ahead, illuminating the pitch black road. His breathing was still heavy, trying to ignore his fight with Ward. They weren’t exactly few and far between, but this one had escalated particularly badly. He replayed it over and over, on the verge of screaming just to make it stop.

He didn’t know why he tried to hard to impress Ward, or to get his validation. Everyone is his life left in one way or another. Whether it was on their own terms, or they were taken. He clung to Ward and the fact that just maybe, he would stick around. Be proud of him. In the end, everyone gave up on him. Everyone screwed him over.

Except maybe one person.

When Rafe first met you, he didn’t like you. He never thought he could be friends with a pogue, let alone be with one romantically. You had too much confidence for someone who didn’t have very much. He admit, he thought less of you. He judged you about things that didn’t truly matter. Eventually, he began to find you endearing. You didn’t need boats, a big house, designer clothes, or anything material to be happy. You knew who you were, and he admired that.

You understood him in ways no kook ever had, and probably more than any kook ever will. You knew hardship, and you saw through his bravado. You could tell deep down, he was in pain. No money could fix what was truly happening inside. All the other kooks were shallow. Never having any conversations with substance, just rambling about bullshit. Rafe never really fit in with any of them. He pretended to be friends with most of them, to keep up appearances and his reputation. At the end of the day, he knew none of them truly cared about him. Even worse, he knew they would mock him if they knew he was with you.

Without realizing, Rafe ended up pulling into your driveway. Through the still pouring rain, he could barely see your house. All the lights were off, including the porch light. Were you home? He didn’t even know. As his mind reeled, he automatically drove here. He wanted to see you. Wanted your comfort. Before you, he hadn’t had that in a long time. Since his mom…no one had ever been there for him. No one to tell him things would be okay, no one to comfort him, or hold him. He craved it.

He hopped out of the car, jogging through the rain to your front door. He rapped his knuckles, hoping you would appear on the other side. He saw a light turn on inside, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

You opened the door, met with a dripping wet and sad looking Rafe on the other side. You were surprised to see him. You had some distance from each other recently, since Rafe told you that his friends couldn’t know about your relationship. You pulled back as he continued to hang out with them, unsure how to move forward.

Seeing him here made your heart sink. He pouted as his blue eyes bore into yours, sadness overcoming his entire expression.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “Please.”

“Of course,” you muttered. You stepped aside, letting Rafe into your empty house.

He crossed the threshold, a shiver coming over his body at the sudden change of temperature. His wet clothes left him cold, making the warmth of your house even more shocking to his system. He wiped at his face in attempt to dry it.

“Are you cold?” you asked gently. “Here let me go get you some clothes and a blanket.”

You walked away for a moment, leaving Rafe standing in your doorway. You gathered a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that belonged to your brother. He wasn’t here, he wouldn’t mind. You snatched your fuzzy blanket from your bed, scurrying back to where Rafe stood waiting. You passed him the clothes, offering him to go change.

As he took his time, you put a kettle of water on the stove. Opening your white cabinets, you rummaged through the various flavours of tea you had. You settled on chamomile. You knew Rafe liked it, even though he would never admit it to literally anyone else. You grabbed 2 mugs and placed the tea bags inside as the kettle began whistling.

You took the two steaming mugs out to the coffee table, where Rafe sat on the couch, waiting for you.

“Here,” you muttered, handing him the mug. You grabbed the blanket, placing it across his lap. “That should warm you up.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, gentle eyes looking up at you.

You sat down beside him, tucking your legs up on the couch. You both sat in silence for a moment, sipping your tea. He let out a small sigh after his first sip, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“My favorite,” he whispered. You responded with a nod.

“You take such good care of me,” he said, breaking the silence more. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Rafe,” you sighed.

He shook his head, not wanting you to deny the truth. He didn’t want you to tell him that he deserved it when he knew it wasn’t true. You were consistently there for him, exuding a kindness he’d never felt. Yet what did he do in return? Essentially tell you he’s embarrassed about your relationship. It was ridiculous, and you shouldn’t be nice to him.

“Come here,” you whispered, opening your arms to him.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he leaned over, resting his head on your lap. You tugged the blanket up slightly higher, covering his torso. You ran your hands through his hair and down his back, feeling the tension release from his body.

Unexpectedly, the tears continued to fall harder. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he heaved out a sob.

“You’re okay,” you cooed. “I’m here.”

He let out all the emotions he had been trained to hold back. Grown men didn’t cry. Strong men didn’t cry. This is what he was told over and over. No one ever let him express himself freely, or show vulnerability. For some reason, he felt safe to show it around you. Confident that you didn’t judge him, or view him as weak.

He didn’t realize how much he was craving to just be held. To have his hair played with, his back scratched. To be told it’s okay. He couldn’t remember a time when someone treated him so gently. He wondered if his mom was the last person who truly took care of him. Now, he felt responsible to take care of people around him most of the time.

“Talk to me,” you said. “What happened?”

“My dad,” he blurted out. He rubbed the tears from his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. “We got into a fight, as always. I accused him of��of killing my mom.”

“What?” you asked, unable to hide the shock in your voice. “Do you really think…”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was too young, but sometimes what he says just doesn’t add up. Doesn’t matter anyway, not like anything would happen to him.”

You nodded silently, knowing he was right. Even if Ward had killed her, no justice would be had. You knew Rafe grappled with the loss of his mom. Rose wasn’t exactly a replacement. She was cold, unkind. Rafe was in a constant battle with Ward. Trying to impress him, get his validation. Rafe grew up wanting his dad’s success, but most of all he just wanted his love. His acceptance. He didn’t think he would ever have a real family. That possibility only came into view when he met you.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” you consoled him. “I know how tense things can get with your dad. My arms are always open if you need a break, or need to talk.”

He sat up from your lap, facing you. His eyes were bloodshot from his previous tears. His usually hard features had softened, his eyes still carrying a deep sadness that you knew you couldn’t fix.

“I’m going to tell everyone we’re together,” he told you. “You’re…you’re perfect. You don’t deserve to be hidden. I don’t deserve you in general.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “When you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” he nodded. “I think…I think you’re the only person who actually cares about me. Who listens and…sees me.”

Your eyes welled up slightly. You weren’t expecting Rafe to say something so vulnerable like this. His rough edges were beginning to soften around you.

“I see you, Rafe,” you told him. You reached out and cupped the side of his face, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

He leaned forward, his warm lips crashing onto yours. The kiss was desperate, yet gentle. You didn’t realize how much you had missed this. When you pulled away, Rafe’s eyes were glistening once more.

“Everyone in my life leaves, or screws me over,” he told you, repeating his previous thoughts. “Please don’t leave me.”

You pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. He melted into your touch, safety and warmth encompassing his entire being.

“I’m here, Rafe,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You heard his stomach gurgle, making you let out a quiet chuckle. “Hungry?”

He nodded into the crook of your shoulder. You laughed once more as he pulled back, a smirk on his face.

“Let me make you something,” you told him. You planted a kiss on his cheek before standing up, placing the blanket over his carefully. “You just sit here and relax, okay?”

“I love when you take care of me, baby,” he murmured as he rested his head on the arm of the couch.

You smiled down at him before going into the kitchen to make him some food. He felt safe with you. You had to admit that your heart soared at the thought that you were the first person he came to after a fight with his dad. The first person he opened up to about his mom, to try in front of.

You didn’t even realize it would always be you. You would always be the first person he would run to, even in a crowded room.

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[nyrasproblm]

And would you go ahead and just cry? 3/3

Jinx × fem!reader | Caitlyn x sister!reader

Summary: Every action has a reaction.

Word Count: 2,9K

Warning: typical canon violence, mention of mental illness, arguments, gunshots, bombs, mourning.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

This contains spoilers for Arcane S2.

< previous chapter

You would laugh at your thoughts if you weren't so nervous. Caitlyn grew up with you and convinced herself that you would give in and remain quiet while she descended on her mournful quest to Zaun?

Crossing to the other side of the bridge was harder this time, since your sister had indeed left the city full of Enforcers more alert than ever. You wrinkled your nose as you slid down the sewer pipe you found along the way, not knowing where it led to the Undercity.

The golden mask did its job of keeping the toxic air from coming into contact with your airways, but it was unsettling to have that on your face. You sighed in relief when you saw the familiar contours of Zaun as you carefully slid down a pipe.

You saw the Grey before you even set foot on the dirty floor of the alley, the green traces of the toxic gas spread everywhere, which was now deserted. Sneaking around, you managed to find them with great difficulty.

The air was sucked from your lungs as you finished climbing the stairs of the abandoned temple, seeing the scene before you: Caitlyn with the rifle pointed firmly forward, in the direction of Jinx, who was lying on the stone table. A little girl tightly clinging to her. Vi straddling them, her gauntlet raised.

Running quickly, you approached the scene, passing by Sevika lying on the ground. Maybe if you had been faster, the bullet wouldn't have hit you the moment you stood in front of your older sister. You heard Jinx shouting something behind you, almost pleading.

Letting out a soft groan, yo u paid little attention to your left shoulder, which was gradually beginning to bleed. Raising your right hand, you grabbed the barrel of the rifle, lowering it. Caitlyn looked at you with slightly wide eyes, breathing heavily.

"What are you...? How did you get here?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Cait, please." you spoke less firmly than you intended, pain flaring in your shoulder. "Stop it, please."

You could see the pain flaring in her eyes, her gaze flickering between you and the people behind you.

"Get out of the way." she pulled the rifle barrel out of your hand. "Get out!"

"Let's go home, please." you pleaded.

Caitlyn didn't lower the gun, you heard footsteps approaching and soon Vi was at your side, her hands raised.

"Cait, stop it," she pleaded. "There's a child there."

You took the cue and looked back, seeing Jinx with her eyes fixed on you. Her pink irises were looking at you sadly, a few tears had fallen on her pale face. She was holding the little girl, who was clinging to her, tightly. You nodded subtly, hoping she would sense what you meant. She swallowed hard and nodded.

Everything will be okay.

You turned to face forward when you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder, making you groan and bring your hand to the wound. Thick blood stained your hand, causing you to breathe heavily. Caitlyn stared at your actions for a moment, before masking her emotions and staring coldly ahead.

She gripped the rifle angrily, her finger on the trigger. You frowned. She was going to shoot again, but it was Vi who was in front of the gun now, not you. You held your breath and closed your eyes as she pulled the trigger.

Silence reigned over the place for a while, only the sound of heavy breathing was present. Opening your eyes, you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the barrel of Caitlyn's rifle crushed by Vi's gauntlets, who were holding the gun down.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sevika stagger to her feet and walk over to one of the walls, feeling around until she found something and activated a mechanism.

"No, no, no! It wasn't supposed to be like this!" you heard Jinx exclaim before Janna's giant mural shattered and a large amount of furious wind began to pour out of it.

You barely had time to register anything else before you were violently pushed by the wind, which was mixed with Grey. You were thrown away from the room, groaning as your injured shoulder hit a rusty pipe, where you held on. You saw Vi doing the same, a few feet below you, with Caitlyn holding her hand tightly.

You fell hard as the wind stopped, your vision going black for a moment as your injured shoulder hit the ground. Vi and Caitlyn's blurred voices were close to you, altered. They were arguing about something.The sound of a thud was heard, followed by a groan and a low cry. You groaned and tried to get up, hearing the footsteps of heavy boots approaching, soon feeling Caitlyn's slender arms around you, pulling you up cautiously.

When Caitlyn wrapped her arms around you and your vision cleared, you saw Violet lying on the floor, her hand on her stomach. She was the one crying. Caitlyn guided you up a flight of stairs, supporting your body with hers. As you climbed, she didn’t look back.

The bullet wound in your left shoulder had been stitched up and was healing. The same couldn’t be said for your relationship with your sister. Caitlyn seemed more and more distant and you were no different. The silence in the mansion was deafening.

Caitlyn seemed like a different person now. Spending more and more time with General Medarda, sleeping with one of the officers who was on her staff. It seemed like self-destruction, from your point of view.

And you... well, siblings are each other's mirror images. You were in a bad way, too. Spending most of your days in your room or in the laboratory in one of the mansion's poorly frequented corridors.

You loved working on your projects, but what little excitement was crushed when you automatically thought of Jinx while working. 'Jinx would think this is cool, Jinx would like to see this, Jinx could help me solve this.'

At least she was okay. The injury to you shoulder had been worth it.

Sighing, you leaned back over your desk, looking at the notes you were making, you had barely started writing again when the heavy door opened. Lifting your head in slight irritation at being interrupted, you frowned even more when you saw Caitlyn standing there, in her uniform.

"I didn't find you in your room, I thought you would be here." she spoke softly, looking a little embarrassed.

"A while ago, a certain commander threatened to arrest me because I didn't wait for permission to enter her room." you said softly, looking back at your notes. She laughed softly and you made a satisfied expression. "What are you looking for me for?"

She crossed the room in soft steps and leaned against the table, crossing her arms in front of her chest, sighing softly. "How's your shoulder?"

"It's... fine? It's healing." you raised an eyebrow. "But you came here to ask that?"

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, bringing a hand up to rub the crease that had formed on her forehead.

"I need... I need to ask you a favor." she turned to you. "Before you curse at me or fight with me, I need you to hear me."

You looked at her expectantly, your eyes widening and your eyebrows raised again.

"I want you to come with me and Ambessa, to get something and someone," she continued, encouraged by your silence. "We have a suspicion that something we're looking for is in the fissures."

"And what does that have to do with me?" you asked.

"Besides what we're looking for, let's take the opportunity to try to locate Jinx." you opened your mouth to protest and she held up her hands asking for patience. "Let me explain."

"I thought you had already forgotten about that." you closed your expression.

"I asked you to pay attention." she snorted.

"Did you come here to ask me to help you hunt her? Have you lost your mind?" you raised your voice, standing up from your chair.

"We're not going to hunt anyone down, I just want her to pay for her crimes." she walked over to you. "That's the logical thing to do. Are you so blinded by her that you can't think rationally?"

"Don't start that again! I know she should pay for her crimes, but we both know what will happen to her if she goes to jail. The sentence won't be fair, they'll want to punish her for crimes she doesn't even remember committing, Caitlyn." you said, feeling your chest hurt.

"These crimes don't cease to exist because she doesn't remember," she nearly growled. "She killed our mother."

"I know!" you yelled, turning your angry face towards her. "You don't need to remind me of that again."

"And you forgave her," she grumbled, her face twisted in anger.

Sighing, you shook your head. "This isn't going anywhere."

"Not if you don't trust me." she approached with soft steps, placing her hand on his good shoulder. "I don't want to fight anymore, I didn't come here to fight."

"I can't do this to her. She needs help, not to be trapped for the rest of her life." your voice trembled.

“She’ll get help, and she’ll be sentenced to the equivalent of her crimes.” Caitlyn’s voice softened, her tender gaze directed at you. “You’ll be able to see her whenever you want.”

"She'll never forgive me." you replied, staring into her eyes with pain. "You don't understand."

"If we testify on her behalf, she won't be in jail for as long." she reached out to caress the side of your face. "I know how you feel."

You pulled away from her touch and crossed the room, stopping in front of the window. “You have no idea.”

Looking up at the large iron gates inlaid with your family crest, you realized. Caitlyn would never stop. She wouldn’t give up on going after Jinx. The pain in your shoulder returned, making you clench one of your fists.

"No one's going to hurt her, right?" you turned to Caitlyn. "If you promise me no one will touch her, I'll help you."

"I just want her arrested, that's all." she replied.

You knew you would quickly find her among the residents of Viktor's community, her blue hair made her stand out. Your face lit up when you saw her long braids in the distance, she was sitting on a rock with the same little girl from before.

Walking at a fast pace, you barely had time to speak before the little girl pointed at you.

"Boo!" you jumped in front of Jinx.

Her big eyes widened as she stood up and spat the grass she had been chewing onto the ground. The shocked expression only lasted a few seconds and soon she was clinging to you, only to pull away again and look you in the eye.

"You're okay." she said, her eyes darting to look at you fully.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" you joked. "I'm with you."

"Last time I saw you, you'd been shot." she assumed a playful expression. "My hero!" she stood on one leg and threw herself at you, waving dramatically.

You were going to answer, but the quiet little girl started jumping excitedly at what Jinx said, you smiled slightly and pushed Jinx so she would let go of you.

"Is this yours?" you gestured.

"This is Isha." she walked over to the little girl, bending down and pushing the large helmet she wore on her head. "Surprise! Now we're both her big sisters."

"Oh? She just chose us to take care of her?" you held out your hand to Isha, who took it and you shook it quickly, making her laugh. "Poor her."

Jinx laughed and stood up, wrapping one of her thin arms around your shoulder and starting walking, looking back to see Isha continuing to play.

"You know, I... missed you." her slightly hoarse voice expressed sincerity. "I thought I wouldn't see you again."

You turned your face to face her: "You won't be able to get rid of me that easily."

"How lucky I am." she spoke again with the same playful tone as always, climbing onto one of the metal structures, extending her hand to help you climb up as well. "How did you find me?"

Your stomach sank and you quickly covered it up. “I always know where you are.”

She let out another giggle and lay down, pulling your arm so you could lie down next to her, your legs dangling over the edge. Just like they did on the giant propellers in her hideout. Staring at nothing in particular, you let out an amused snort as she lifted her left hand, showing you the contraption that was now replacing her middle finger.

"What happened to your finger?" you asked.

"Your lovely sister Lieutenant Colonel shot my hand." she sighed, lowering her hand again.

"She's a commander, actually." you corrected. "She never misses a shot."

"So she just wanted to tear off one of my fingers? Cool." she laughed hoarsely. So, do you want to see my dad?"

"Your dad?" you frowned, remembering what happened with Silco. "I thought your dad-"

"Look." she sat down and pointed to one of the rooms, which had a glass roof.

Your breath caught when you saw it. The thing Ambessa wanted, the beast she hunted with determination, was lying there, sleeping peacefully.

"Is that thing your father?" you asked without realizing it, and felt Jinx playfully elbow you in the ribs.

"Hey, he has a name, and it's not 'thing.'" she said softly. "It's Vander. We came here to heal him."

You didn't respond to her explanations, instead you changed the subject and she started babbling again. Everything seemed normal again. Everything seemed fine when you were with her, listening to her babble about whatever it was. At one point, Isha came to you, carrying fruits and other things.

"Here, eat!" Jinx pushed one of the fruits into your hand as she bit into one herself, revealing the juicy, blue insides. "I've already eaten a lot," she said with her mouth full.

You bit into the plump fruit, feeling it fill your mouth. Jinx turned around and started fiddling with what Isha had brought for her, making you frown. “I thought you weren’t allowed to bring weapons in here.”

"Do you think I would walk around unarmed?" she scoffed, slinging the pistol at her hip.

You just sighed, looking back forward, your face contorting in confusion when you saw Caitlyn with that horrible doctor, standing next to Jinx's father.

"What is he doing here?" you heard Jinx's stern voice beside you and turned your head to look at her, seeing her glare at the man.

"Jinx, I need-"

You didn't have time to finish. It all happened very quickly.

Jinx jumped from the roof to help Caitlyn when she stopped the doctor from injecting something into Vander. Ambessa's warrior went after the two, but you couldn't help, seeing Isha looking around without knowing what to do.

You grabbed her hand and climbed down from where you were sitting, looking around for help. You didn't remember when Isha let go of your hand. Ambessa's warriors were everywhere, Vander looked savage now, you didn't have any weapons in your hand. Caitlyn suddenly appeared, with Vi beside her.

You managed to defend yourself from one of the soldiers, picking up his spear from the ground, but it didn't last long when you were pushed and it fell from your hand. As you stood up, you heard Jinx's scream and looked around desperately to try to find her. Then you saw Isha, with her little hands around the pistol, pointing it at the sky. With a gasp of terror, you witnessed the flash of the explosion illuminate the sky. And your vision went black.

War is deafening. Your ears rang all the time with the sound of gunshots, metal chains and death. The smell was also strong. You stood firm at the post where Caitlyn had asked you to stay, hidden, with the scope of your rifle helping you see in the distance.

You fired every now and then when you saw someone approaching the team that was taking your bomb to the giant anomaly that was pulling Viktor's cocoon through the destroyed streets. You were sure it would work. The bomb would explode as soon as the needle reached the end.

You had to run away from where you were when Ambessa signaled for someone to shoot you. Running almost aimlessly through the streets, you stopped when you heard a familiar sound in the sky.

The few minutes Jinx spent firing at the Noxian forces filled your body with hope. But that was all crushed when the airship crashed into the Hexgate tower. And you knew nothing was going to be okay when you saw the familiar explosion of the monkey bomb as you entered the place.

Your scream must have been loud and painful, but you weren't sure. The pain numbed you and you couldn't hear anything else.

You didn't know how much time had passed since the incident. Your pastime now was sitting on the roof, with your legs dangling over the edge. The destroyed head of the monkey bomb was a comfort, in a way. You placed it on your lap and pulled the small piece of white paper and the lighter from your pocket, placing the flame on one end of the paper and releasing it into the air.

What were you going to do now? She never taught you to forget her.

With a shaky sigh, you squeezed the rest of the monkey bomb and closed your eyes.

"Why are you holding that old thing?" a husky, playful voice asked behind you.

Eyes wide, you turned to look.

[squatch-and-stretch]

Chapter 6

Washing out the wound of another person was far from the worst thing he’s dealt with in the past six months, even if they screamed and whimpered like they were being tortured the whole time. Fiddleford was used to taking care of people who hated to be taken care of; Stanford was his best friend, after all.

But it wasn’t really about Stanley, was it? Sure, forcing Stanford to hold his brother in place while he whined like a kicked dog wasn’t great, and neither was being the one kicking that metaphorical dog, but it was a necessary process to keep Stanley alive, and all three of them had to know that. He hadn’t loved punching Stanford so hard he hit his head on the counter and lost consciousness either, but again, it had gotten Bill out of his body, and therefore could be justified as a necessary evil. He had some mixed feelings about Stanford and Stanley’s presence in general, but it really was a relief to be in good company.

But Stanley and Stanford had gotten here the same way Fiddleford had. Somewhere back in their own dimension, an inverted triangle of metal and circuitry loomed, waiting for Bill’s next victim to turn it on. And when they did— and Fiddleford trusted it would be a when, not an if— Earth would be just the same as this dimension. Bill had even singled out his son, his baby boy, as if he hadn’t already hurt him enough.

He’d tried so hard once to be a family man, to be the man his family expected him to be, but he’d failed. He’d failed the moment he went running back to Stanford, and he’d failed so badly that he was ruining their lives even now, in another dimension.

“Fuck,” Fiddleford says shakily, catching himself against the table of his workspace.

He never used to cuss, had always thought it a lazy way to get his point across and he’d never stopped tasting his grandpa’s soap. It was just another thing that this dimension changed. ‘Fuck’ was really the only thing that could get his feelings across at the moment.

He just doesn’t know what to do. Everything seems so insurmountable. They needed to destroy Bill before he destroyed their world, but how? Fiddleford only had the faintest idea of Bill’s capabilities, and not a clue as to his weaknesses. He's only encountered Bill on his own playing field once, and if he’d had any interest in doing so, he could have killed Fiddleford easily. His ribs ache at the thought. His chest aches in general, making it hard to breathe.

Fuck, he can’t breathe.

You don’t know what to do, but here’s what you’re not going to do, a stern voice says in the back of his head. You’re not going to have a fucking panic attack. You’re a grown man, now act like one.

Be logical, a softer voice says, encouraging him to suck in a shaky breath. Take things one step at a time. What do you know about Bill?

Bill is an equilateral yellow triangle with a top hat, bow tie, and skinny little limbs (and how has this become Fiddleford’s life?). He can possess people, but has only done so to Stanford in his experience. Since Bill and Stanford were working together, it stands to reason that Stanford made some sort of deal to allow for this. Stanford seems to have no control of his actions while possessed, but Bill is limited by Stanford’s human abilities, though he doesn’t seem to be deterred by pain; if anything, the opposite is true. Knocking Stanford unconscious broke Bill’s possession of him, but Bill only took over after Stanford fell asleep. He didn’t seem to be able to interact with the world— Earth or this one— in any meaningful way outside his vessel, but those rules didn’t apply to that space between realms, where his true form seemed to reside. That form seemed untethered to biological reality, so it was unlikely that physical violence— just shooting or stabbing him— would be enough to destroy him. Bill was likely so insistent on the creation of that portal because it would allow his physical form to enter Earth and let him wreak havoc to his heart’s content.

Fiddleford, of course, couldn’t allow that to happen, but what could he possibly do to prevent it? Bill would have to be destroyed on a fundamental, atomic level, but how?

Bill’s assessment of him— a worthless sack of rotting meat— suddenly seems apt.

This dimension was just as technologically advanced than their own, with some exceptions. Beyond the blaster he incorporated into his arm, he’s found little in the way of weaponry. If a technology that could destroy Bill existed, it didn’t exist here, and with so much about this planet unknown and no native intelligent life to assist him in understanding it, even his own mechanical prowess was limited.

Dimensional travel hadn’t appealed to Fiddleford as much as it had to Stanford, but now he suddenly understood; in an infinite number of multiverses, one must exist in which the technology to destroy Bill is available. Fiddleford just had to get there.

Fiddleford’s initial wariness of the portal boiled down to two things; he didn’t know what was on the other side and how it would affect their own dimension, and calculations showed a non-zero chance of holes being ripped into the very fabric of their reality due to the dimensional instability created by the portal’s activation. Fiddleford didn’t know how Bill had gotten here, but it stands to reason that a similar level of dimensional instability would exist here as well. If a rift into this realm had formed in Bill’s, perhaps a rift out of this one existed here.

There was always a chance that he’d— they’d, in his ruminations he’d nearly forgotten about Stanley and Stanford— end up somewhere even worse, but it was a risk they might have to take. Besides, couldn’t Bill enter the rift and physically join them in this dimension at any time?

“Fuck,” Fiddleford hisses.

They’re working on borrowed time. He hopes Stanford and Stanley are resting as he suggested— though he doubts it— because as soon as the suns rise, they should seek a way out of this dimension at once.

He needs to finish his arm. It might not destroy Bill, but they’ll need some form of protection.

Ha. Fiddleford hasn’t thought of himself as the protective type since he was living with three younger siblings, but here he is again. The more things change, the more they stay the same, he supposes.

“Fiddleford?” a hesitant voice calls, and despite how quiet and careful it is, Fiddleford flinches and whips around as if he’d just heard gunfire.

It’s just Stanford. Of course it is.

“Stanford,” he sighs, “is Stanley alright?”

“Of course,” Stanford says, “all thanks to you. After we went through the portal, his… injury had entirely slipped my mind. If you weren’t here to notice it, prevent me from agitating it further, and provide the supplies and… strength of will to properly disinfect and bandage it…”

“It’s no trouble,” Fiddleford dismisses, waving his hand. “But if ya wanna show your gratitude anyway, how ‘bout you help me finish this dang arm of mine?”

“I’d love to,” Stanford breathes, and it really does sound like he means it.

(Un)happy Reunion

Ford Pines & Stan Pines & Fiddleford McGucket | 3,143 words | Mystery Trio Through the Multiverse AU

Fiddleford reunites with Stanford and meets Stanley after 6 months alone in a post-apocalyptic city in some other dimension.

Chapter 1

see notes for future chapters!

If Fiddleford had to describe this world he’s spent the past 6 months in in a single word, he’d probably choose terrible. Other descriptors such as strange, horrible, post-apocalyptic, and dangerous also come to mind. Lately, though, he’s been putting a lot of thought into the word lonely.

There were intelligent species here, once. It’s clear in the almost-familiar design of this destroyed city, in the tattered books written in a language Fiddleford can’t make any sense of, in every little item he comes across. He even has an idea of what they looked like— he’s seen their art, their pictures, their mangled bodies— and Fiddleford has to wonder if Bill understood the cruel irony of sending him to a world that was once inhabited by pig people.

He wonders, sometimes, if he could have found a way to communicate with them, if any of them were left. Would his throat have been able to form the words of their language, or theirs his? Would they have tried to help him? Just being around another living creature that didn’t try to kill him on sight would be pretty nice right now.

Unfortunately, that’s never been what this planet has in store for him, and when he hears something move nearby, he knows it’s a threat.

It must be in the next alleyway, and it’s fairly big— most of the monsters Bill left here are. Fiddleford goes still, staring in the direction of the alleyway and listening for any other sign of movement. It’s quiet for a moment, until Fiddleford hears a loud crash and what sounds like hushed murmuring. So many things have sounded like human voices lately that he doesn’t put any stock into it, just dips into the nearest alleyway in an attempt to escape whatever is making that noise before it even knows he’s here.

It’s an attempt that fails immediately, as he crashes into a pile of shredded metal like an idiot. It slices through the worn fabric of his pants, but as far as he can tell it doesn’t reach skin. It does, however, make a very loud noise, and the not-voices go quiet.

“Son of a gun,” he allows himself to hiss, and he takes off down the alleyway without any further regard to the sound he’s making.

Something steps out in front of him, blocking his way. It’s taller than the previous inhabitants of this planet, but smaller than most of the monsters he’s encountered. It’s built a lot like a person, and not a particularly imposing one at that, so Fiddleford doesn’t slow his roll for a moment. He fishes a knife out of the tattered pocket of his lab coat, and slams his shoulder into the beast.

It cries out, still sounding a heck of a lot like a person as it hits the ground, breaking Fiddleford’s fall. He presses the knife to what should be its throat, and is almost surprised to find smooth, human-looking skin beneath his blade. It’s a familiar shade, even, and Fiddleford can’t help but let his eyes wander further up to its face—

“Stanford?” Fiddleford spits, downright baffled to see his big brown eyes looking up at him.

Stanford opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Fiddleford is being hauled off of him. Something has grabbed the back of his scarf and pulled it tight, tight enough that Fiddleford gags against the construction, tight enough that he’s reminded of Bill’s hand around him, crushing the breath from his lungs, and suddenly he’s being slammed against the brick wall of the alleyway and crushed between Bill’s uncaring fingers and—

“Stanley!”

That’s Stanford’s voice, he’d recognize it anywhere, but how is he here?

“Who the fuck—“

A voice, closer than Stanford’s, unfamiliar but definitely not Bill. It’s a person that’s holding him, and even if he’s struggling to breathe against the arm pressed to his throat, he can deal with a person.

Fiddleford kicks out, slamming his knee between the legs of his assailant.

“Son of a—!” he shouts, but he lets go of Fiddleford to stumble back.

“Stop! Stanley, this is Fiddleford! He’s the reason we’re here!” Stanford says, inserting himself between the two of them. “Well, he’s the reason I wanted to be here. You’re the reason you’re here and we don’t know how to get back.”

Yep, that insufferable holier-than-thou tone is definitely Stanford.

“I’m the reason you’re here?” Fiddleford chokes, rubbing his throat as he tries to regain his bearings. “It’s your fault I’m here!”

“I know that!” Stanford says, turning to Fiddleford.

Stanford looks about the same as he left him, beyond the dark circles under his eyes. Fiddleford knows the same can’t be said about himself.

“Listen, Fiddleford, I—“

“Save it, Stanford,” Fiddleford snaps, shaking his head as he turns towards the other man in the alleyway. “You must be Stanley?”

When Fiddleford first heard about Stanford’s twin, he imagined a carbon copy of his then-roommate. Stanley is not that. They’re nearly identical in the shapes of their faces, the texture and shade of their hair, the slope and color of their eyes, but the similarities end there. Put simply, Stanley looks like shit, with long, tangled hair, an unshaven face, and dark circles to rival Stanford’s, all wrapped up in a ratty jacket over an even rattier shirt. Even the way he holds himself is worrying, the way he’s hunched in on himself like a coiled spring, turned to the side like he’s keeping something just out of sight, eyes weary, teeth grit.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Stanley grumbles, and he draws himself even tighter. Even in conversation he’s locked on the defensive, and with the brief glimpse of an interaction between him and Stanford, Fiddleford can’t say he blames him.

“Nice ta meet ya, Stanley. I’d offer to shake your hand, but mine seems to be missin’,” Fiddleford greets. “Well, not missin’ exactly, I know where it is, but it ain’t doin’ me much good inside the stomach of some rottin’ monster.”

“Your arm!” Stanford exclaims belatedly.

He grabs for Fiddleford’s shoulder, but Fiddleford quickly smacks his hand away, a shudder running through his body at the phantom sensation of someone grabbing at what remains of his arm. He steps away, eyeing Ford wearily, almost expecting him to try again.

He doesn’t. He brings his hand back, tucking it to his chest for just a moment, hurt in his eyes. After a moment, he clears his throat, straightens up, and tucks his hands behind his back.

“I take it that’s a new development?” Stanley says, watching Fiddleford carefully. The matching scrutinizing gazes of both twins sets Fiddleford even further on edge.

“I would never have allowed such grievous injury to come to him under my care!” Stanford huffs, glaring at Stanley.

Fiddleford barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

“And who’s god-forsaken vanity project brought me here, Stanford?”

“Easy, Fiddlesticks,” Stanley cuts in before Stanford can respond. “None of us are happy to be here, but he—“

Fiddleford raises his hand. “Shut yer yap.”

“Okay, rude—“

“I mean it, don’t ya hear that?” Fiddleford hisses. It’s barely audible, not like Stanford and Stanley’s rustling in a nearby alleyway. Something is moving through the main streets.

“I don’t hear shit, except some hillbilly interrupting me wh—“

“I hear it,” Stanford says, and Stanley throws his arms up in frustration.

Click-click, drag, click-click, click-click. Three functional limbs, one dragging along, moving at a gradual, unhurried pace. The time between each step suggests a step length of perhaps a meter. It’s large, too large for Fiddleford to deal with without his arm, but likely small enough to fit into this alleyway. Stanley seems pretty tough, and Stanford had somehow held his own for 6 years in Gravity Falls despite its many dangers, but he wasn’t about to trust either of them in a fight against whatever unknown beast was approaching.

“It’s coming from—“ Stanford whispers, and despite the low volume, Fiddleford cringes at the sound.

“I know,” Fiddleford snips quietly, “follow me.”

Fiddleford doesn’t bother to check if either of them listened— Stanford reacts well to confidence, and with any luck, Stanley would as well— before he’s slinking out of the alleyway, carefully watching his step this time.

“Come on, dumbass,” Stanley hisses, and Fiddleford spares them a glance. Both have moved to follow, but Stanford is hesitating, looking behind him even as Stanley grabs his arm and pulls him along behind him.

“I just want a look—“ Stanford mumbles, shaking Stanley’s hand off.

“This ain’t Gravity Falls, Stanford, an’ I won’t hesitate to leave you ‘n’ your brother for mincemeat if you don’t hurry yer asses up!”

Stanford immediately turns towards Fiddleford, eyes wide, mouth parted in shock. Fiddleford glares at him, lets him truly believe he means it (Fiddleford knows he wouldn’t leave Stanford or his brother, damn him) before he turns back around and continues on the way. This time, Stanford and Stanley follow without any further prompting, though Fiddleford hears what sounds like an amused snort from Stanley at Stanford’s sudden obedience.

[clanoffelidae]

It’s always ‘man I wish I was at home’ until you actually have a reason to stay home because you feel bad and then it’s ‘man I wish I was at work because that would mean I didn’t feel awful’

[fastandcarlos]

Paddock Naps : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: it's a dangerous game when lando falls asleep, but particularly when he finds himself falling asleep on you in the paddock

Your head shook as you glanced down at Lando beside you, his head falling further and further down. When you first let him rest in your lap you knew you were playing a dangerous game but you knew with how busy race days usually were there was no way that Lando was going to be able to rest with you for too long. 

Little did you know though how much you were helping him in his mission to fall asleep. The way your fingers ran through his hair, or tickled against his waist all helped him to feel incredibly comfortable, perhaps a little too comfortable if you were a member of McLaren staff. 

Time ran away with you tucked up in the hospitality lounge, but the sound of a figure coughing beside you soon made you look up, and immediately look back down. 

Oscar’s head shook at the sight of the two of you, something he had gotten pretty used to seeing from you. “How has he managed to fall asleep already? It’s barely even one in the afternoon.” 

“Who’s fallen asleep?” A second voice called out, your expression cringing as Daniel appeared up alongside Oscar.  

You didn’t quite know where to look as Daniel’s eyes widened at Lando fast asleep, having to place his mouth over his hand to hold back his laughter and make sure that he didn’t disturb Lando with his laughter.  

“You look very comfortable,” Oscar teased as your eyes met his, offering you a smile. 

“He’s a pain,” you complained, feeling your legs get number and number the more time that passed. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at Lando for falling asleep on you, seeing him so content made your heart swell, knowing just how exhausted he was with the last of three consecutive races looming.  

They all had their moments when they tried to get some peace and quiet, but you and Lando were unlike any other couple around the paddock. Other drivers could only admire how comfortable you were around each other, how little you cared about what others thought of you or how much you wanted to be around each other.  

It was something that terrified you when you first started dating Lando, but he helped you to not worry about anyone else, training you out of worrying about all of the eyes on you. 

“How long until your meeting?” You asked Oscar as he and Daniel took a seat in front of you to keep you company whilst you waited for Lando to stir.  

“We’ve still got a little while yet, we don’t want to wake sleeping beauty up too early, otherwise we’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Your hand gently brushed over the top of Lando’s head once again, tangling gently through his curls as you tried your best to tidy his hair up for him a little. 

“You know he’ll wake up and still complain he’s tired,” you warned the two of them, “he won’t care about the fact that I won’t be able to feel my legs for the rest of the day.” 

Daniel could only snigger as you spoke, “it’s his fault for having such a big head.” 

You struggled to hold back your laughter, it was something that Lando told you constantly, but only now were you feeling the full weight of it weighing you down in your seat. 

After a few minutes of light conversation between the three of you, a groan could be heard from your lap. All eyes looked down as Lando’s eyes fluttered open, grunting at the two men he saw sat in front of him, before glancing up at you. 

“Nice to see you awake, it’s only the middle of the afternoon,” Oscar teased as he glanced down at his watch. “Nothing like a midday nap to prepare you for a race is there?” 

The moment your eyes met Lando’s you could see how needed his rest was. He smiled softly up at him as he continued to wake himself up, shuffling slightly, much to your relief, as you finally managed to slightly move your legs. 

“You really have no shame, do you?” Daniel couldn’t help but joke too. “Do you know how many people have walked into this room and just found you laid out there?” 

Lando shot a glare in response to Daniel, stretching himself up before sitting up in the chair next to you where his feet had been laying, hearing a giggle come from you as you shook your own body awake too. 

“You’re such a lump,” you smirked as Lando looked at what you were doing, watching as you shook your legs, finally feeling the movement come back into them.  

An apologetic pout formed on Lando’s face as he shuffled closer towards you, resting his hand against your lap as his head came down to rest against your shoulder, still a little bit on the sleepy side of life. 

“Don’t fall asleep again,” you warned, jolting your shoulder to keep Lando awake. 

A frustrated sigh came from him, “why can’t you just let me sleep for the rest of the day?” 

“Because we have this thing called work,” Oscar interjected, shaking his head at how dramatic Lando was. “I think Y/N has better things to do then let you throw yourself across her all day.” 

You couldn’t see Lando, but you could imagine the glare that he was sending at Oscar, with Daniel chuckling next to him to add salt into the wounds for Lando. 

“I hate all of you,” Lando confirmed, “I just want to rest, is that really so hard?” 

You knew exactly what would happen if you let Lando sleep any longer. You’d been on the receiving end of Zak before when Lando had missed important team meetings, he trusted you to keep Lando in check and loved to tease you whenever you failed at that job. 

“Come on sleepyhead, you can rest when we’re back at the hotel tonight,” you smiled, resting your head down on top of Lando’s. “I don’t think your bank account will want to pay the fine for another missed team meeting.” 

A hum of agreement came from Lando as he reluctantly sat himself up, still staring at Daniel and Oscar as they continued to laugh to themselves at the scene they saw unfold before them.  

“You wait, I’ll get you two back for this.” 

“We’re just sat here, we’re not doing anything wrong.” 

Lando looked to you for help, but you chose to stay quiet, knowing that Daniel and Oscar had kept you company for most of the time he slept, you couldn’t betray them by siding with Lando now. 

Before Lando could snap back at them, the two of them excused themselves, Daniel ready to head to his meeting, Oscar keen to impress and make sure that he got to the McLaren office before Lando did and keep everyone on his side.  

“I can’t wait to go home tonight,” Lando whispered across to you, sitting himself up again. “Thank you for letting me rest on you babe, I do feel a lot better after it.” 

Your head nodded as your hands cupped either side of Lando’s face. “I promise as soon as you’re finished we’ll head out of here and get you to bed as soon as possible.” 

Lando smiled appreciatively back across at you, resting his head into your left palm. He desperately wanted to stay with you forever, but he knew that he would never be allowed to do that.  

“Go and be amazing and I’ll be here when you get back,” you encouraged, tapping Lando’s cheek as he reluctantly stood up from his chair. “If you get bored, just think about all of those cuddles we’ll have at the hotel tonight.” 

Lando’s head nodded as he leaned down and pressed an appreciative kiss against the top of your head, brushing his hand through your hair. “Thank you for always being there for me, it means the world to me love.” 

“You’re welcome Lan,” you whispered. 

“See you soon, for the most incredible rest.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[i2sunric]

𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘 (s.jy)

PAIRING: horny!jake x succubus!reader (f)

SUMMARY: jake has always been an hyper sexual type boy, always seeking relief in the depth of night. but his hand isn't as satisfying anymore and neither are his toys, and in his moment of desperation, you appear like a gift sent from heaven (or hell).

WARNINGS: kinktober. succubus (a sexual demon), masturbating, pillow humping, riding, overstimulation, messy blow job, jake is kinda sub, doggy, missionary, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), cream pie, dirty talking, manhandling, (idk if there’s a slight cnc?), slight choke kink, jake whines and whimpers (we like), cum eating, oral (m receiving), pussy licking, pet names (jakey, baby), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 20th October 2024

WC: 2.9k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove (oneshot) @leov3rse @eileenville @roastandtoast @heeaxvhhoon @doublebunv @ancnymcnzjy @heartynoo @rii7eis7 @lyxnneee @yunahszx

a/n: i literally have 8 drafts for kinktober but i’m not sure i’ll be able to finish them all (sorry). i don’t even really like how this one came out but i thought i owned y’all some new fics since i’ve been ia for a while. please REBLOG to spread bcs only likes don’t take authors so far. thank you 🩷

Jake was resting on his bed, or so he tried to. His back was against the mattress, the only light illuminating the room was the one of the moon, entering from the window as if to peek to his desperation.

Fact was, he had been a painful hard on the whole day and fate wanted that he couldn’t seem to make himself come.

It was true when they said that as you overdo something, you grow tired of it, because his hand had stopped working a couple of weeks before, which led him to the sex shop downtown to purchase a couple of toys.

And they worked, for the following couple of days until the empty feeling after jerking off hadn’t come back.

“Ugh…” He muttered to himself, he was desperate at this point.

His entire body felt hot with arousal, the air around him getting stuffy. It was a wonder how his hand hadn’t fallen off from all the wanking he had done in the past week.

Jake was left with a raging bulge making fun of him through the fabric of his sweats, his cock so hard it was even painful to exist.

He grabbed his phone from off to the side, opening up the internet in hopes of finding something to satisfy his needs. He began scrolling on a pornography site, a small sigh escaping from his mouth as he quickly found something he liked.

It was a rather soft porn, just a ‘morning sex’ one, he skipped all the intro until it got to the good part.

Jake slowly pulled down his sweats, just enough to free his cock from the restraints of the clothing.

He hadn’t even worn his boxers to bed, feeling suffocated.

He raised the volume of the video, holding his phone with one hand while he started to touch himself with the other.

He was sensitive, slowly pumping his shaft up and down. As the moans of the video got louder and the boy fucked the girl harder into the mattress, he too tried to fast his pace— and nothing.

Jake continued his search, even going to the hidden pictures of his galleries where he kept screenshots of his favourite porns of all times.

Nothing seemed to work on him, nothing brought him enough pleasure to get him off.

Jake groaned loudly and threw his phone on the mattress, far away from him.

He stared at his cock as if it had personally offended him, it stood proud and angry red in front of him.

Suddenly, an idea flashed in his mind.

If hand didn’t work, and neither did the kinky toys he got, he’d have to try the traditional way of fucking a pillow.

He grabbed the pillow from behind his head and turned around, his chest now pressed onto the mattress.

Jake rested his head on the other, smaller pillow while he raised his backside, enough to make a makeshift hole of the pillow.

He inserted his aching cock and thrusted his hips, slowly. The fabric of the pillow touching his length made him moan softly. He tried to imagine someone being under him, someone letting him rut his cock inside of them.

Just as he focused on the small pleasure he got, a giggle made his eyes widen in surprise.

Peeking from behind his shoulder, he noticed a red figure.

“What—“ Jake turned around, covering his dignity with the pillow (as if he wasn’t just grinding on it). There was no way someone had entered his bedroom, or his house in general. He remembered he had locked all the doors before going to bed, so how did you get inside?

You stood in front of the bed, looking at him with a wide smile on your face. Your skin was reddish, and you had small horns on your head, as well as a tail moving left and right, as if you were amused by the scene you had just witnessed.

“Hey,” You purred, waving your hand at him “Having fun there?”

“Who are you?” He asked, moving into a sitting position “Or… what are you?”

Your body was barely covered by a brown top and a pair shorts of the same colour, making your curves and body perfectly visible.

Lord, if you weren’t such an arousing sight. Had he been in the right mind, and not clouded by lust, he would’ve realised you were a succubus.

A demon that got its power from having sex with desperate men in the middle of the night, taking strength by their semen. Your body was meant to make him horny.

“Don’t worry about it...” You raised a brow, as if to ask, him for his name.

Jake understood and cleared his throat “Jake.”

You smiled happily “Jake, what a pretty name for a pretty boy!” You exclaimed.

“I am Y/N.” You introduced yourself, placing a hand on your chest, clearly making his attention go to your tits.

He nodded in reply, his eyes ranking over your figure warily “So.. what are you?”

You just rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t matter, I’m here to help you.” You bit your bottom lip “Don’t hide from me.”

Jake glanced down at where the pillow was hiding his lower body and let out a shaky breath.

He debated whether to listen to you or try and get some more answers out of you— but you were so willingly giving your help to him, he couldn’t just refuse you. Not after he had waited for this moment so long.

Cautiously, he removed the pillow, showing his cock that sprang free.

Your eyes widened and your mouth watered. “Aren’t you huge?” You complimented, loving the way it throbbed at your comment.

Just the sight of your perfect body made some precum leak from the tip, and you knew he must’ve been so pent up he was suffering.

“You don’t have a pussy to bury your pretty cock in?” You purred, slowly crawling on the bed.

“N-no.” Jake replied.

“It’s okay,” You stated, slowly pumping his shaft “You can use mine.”

Just your mere touch made his mind grow foggy, your pretty palm wrapped around his length.

He moaned softly as you spat on it, using your saliva to lubricate the skin.

Jake’s eyes fluttered shut, it just felt so good to finally be touched by something that wasn’t his own hand, and he whimpered when your mouth wrapped around him.

It was so warm and it felt so good, the way you slowly moved up and down, bobbing your head to pleasure him.

Without even him realising, his hand had moved to your hair, grasping your locks as he thrusted upwards.

In a way, you liked how desperate he was. Your power was lowering the past few days and he was just what you needed— a horny college student in desperate need of filling some nice pussy.

Oh, if only he knew your true intentions.

His hips began to move as he held you still, fucking your mouth like you were a flesh light. Though you felt even better.

You gagged around his length and the sound only fuelled his contorted desires. “Mh— fuck.” He moaned, his hips snapping back and forth “So good,” Jake breathed out “So fucking good.”

You decided to hollow your cheeks and let him use you, one of your hands moving inside your panties to lazily circle your clit. You were already dripping wet, while he was leaking precum inside your mouth, filling your taste buds with a bittersweet taste.

“I’m so close, M’gonna— Oh!” He groaned loudly as he shot his thick load down your throat, his cock pulsating inside your mouth as he pushed your head down further. You palmed his balls, just adding to the overwhelming pleasure he felt.

You could almost feel him whole down your throat, you frowned as you tried your best not to gag around it.

After a couple of seconds, he let you go, his breath heavy as he tried to regain strength.

You pulled away and licked your lips, loving the sweet taste of his cum.

And as you looked down, you noticed he was already hard. You widened your eyes, a smirk forming on your lips.

But Jake wasn’t as lust-high as he had been when you found him humping his night pillow, and he sat up properly.

With one swift movement he grabbed your throat, making sure not to squeeze it too tight and he pressed his plump lips on yours.

As surprised as you were, you quickly recovered and reciprocated the kiss, teeth crashing and tongues swiping one on the other.

His free hand snuck between your thighs, feeling your wetness, making him swallow your moan.

“So wet for me, mh?” Jake murmured on your lips, helping you out of your tight shorts “Let me give you back your favours.”

You felt his finger press against your entrance but you stopped him. You certainly didn’t need any prepping, the only thing you needed was him shooting his cum deep inside of you.

But that, he didn’t need to know, so you just whined “Need you inside of me Jakey, please.”

“Yeah?” He retrieved his hand, manhandling you into the mattress. He crashed your head on the pillow - yes, the one he was fucking just a few minutes before - and held your ass up.

It was cute how he thought he was in charge, but you didn’t mind being dominated, so you let him be.

He opened your asscheeks with his slender fingers and licked a long stripe out of your folds, making you moan.

“Hurry,” You pressed your backside further into his face, making Jake slap your asscheek.

Had your skin not been already red, his slap would’ve left an angry mark. But you liked it, so you pressed your ass against him again.

Jake groaned, slapping the same asscheek that left a burning sensation cursing through your body.

He moved up, quickly discarding his shirt and sweatpants, throwing them somewhere on the floor. “Want a condom?” You almost laughed at his question, reaching a hand to pull him close, you hissed “Give it to me raw.”

He felt himself grow even harder at your dirty talk, he pumped his shaft and pressed it against your clit, gathering all your sweet juices.

You hummed softly at the teasing, needing him to be inside of you, that thick cock to press against your cervix and making you see the heaven you weren’t allowed in.

With one quick thrust, Jake slammed all of himself inside of you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

It was true that you didn’t need any prepping, having done this for a living - literally - but you felt him whole, “S’deep.” You sighed.

Jake moaned at how your walls hugged him, squeezing any drop of precum, swallowing his full length.

He pulled out just to slam back inside, gripping your asscheeks. “Fuck,” He breathed out, his pace already quickening as he tried to chase both of your highs.

“You like it deep, baby?” He asked, “You like it feeling me so deep inside of ya?”

You nodded, reaching your hand behind to touch him, but Jake got ahold of your wrists and held both of them behind your back.

The position would’ve been uncomfortable if you weren’t so aroused, it’d been a while since you were fucked hard and Jake seemed like the best victim you had in ages.

“Pussy so good,” He grunted, eyes squeezing as he felt himself near the edge “So fucking perfect, baby.”

You tried to peek at him from behind your shoulder, and Jake noticed. He gave you a sly wink and let go of your wrists, pulling out of you to turn you around.

Your back was now on the mattress, the human spread your legs wide as he aligned with your entrance once again.

He positioned your legs on his shoulders and quickly got inside again, as if he were addicted to being in you, his balls slapped against your ass.

“Better, ain’t it?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down to you to kiss his lips “I get to see your pretty face as I fill you up with my cum.” The angle you were bent was awkward but you didn’t really care.

The thought made you clench around him and Jake groaned in your mouth, his cock rutting fast and deep.

The squelching sound of skin slapping filled the room, for once Jake was glad of owning a house and not an apartment, or the neighbours would’ve had already come to complain.

He held your throat with his veiny hands, adding just the right amount of pressure to make you light-headed.

“Jakey,” You breathed out, mouth agape “Want your cum, give it to me.”

Your words only fuelled his desire, he sped his movements - if it was even possible - his face contorted in pleasure as he felt his orgasm approach.

“Yes, yes, M’gonna give it to you, baby,” He chanted out, his cock throbbing “Fuck— I’m gonna fill you up so good.”

He rested his forehead against your shoulder and squeezed your clothed breast, kneading at the soft flesh.

His movements became sloppy until with one last, deep thrust he came deep inside of you.

“Yes!” You breathed out, as his cum flooded inside of you, you could feel yourself growing stronger, your powers returning.

Jake’s movements grew slower until they stopped, his laboured breath tickled your skin.

He was tired, strangely so, he pulled out of you and laid beside you “Shit, this was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

His eyes closed as exhaustion washed over him, but you weren’t done.

Oh, you were far from done.

First, you hadn’t come yet and second, you needed more of his semen.

You climbed on top of him, smiling at his fucked up state. He looked so pretty with messy hair, swollen lips and red cheeks.

Jake slowly opened his eyes, widening them a little as he took you in “Y/N? What are you— Fuck.”

He groaned loudly as you fisted his softened cock, wanting him to get hard again so you could ride him.

“S-stop.” He gripped your hand but you were stronger than him now, shoving it away “Shh, I’ll make you feel good, pinky promise.”

You chuckled within yourself, slowly grinding your wet pussy on his hardening length.

Jake sighed, his hands lazily holding your hips “You need to cum, baby?”

You hummed, your fingers grazing his happy trail “Mh… yes, will you make me?”

Jake nodded, his eyes half lidded “I can use my tongue, no need to…” He grunted as you lifted yourself and held his dick up, slowly lowering on him.

As you bottomed out, you moaned, the shadow of his bulge peeking through your stomach.

You threw your head back, his cock sliding in and out easily thanks to your wetness and his previous orgasm still lingering inside of you.

“M-too sensitive baby, please…” You chuckled, “You can take another one.”

His brows furrowed as you alternated between moving up and down and grinding him, his nails digging in the skin of your hips.

“So? Can you take another one, mh?” Jake sighed, nodding his head weakly “Y-yes.”

“Atta’ boy.” You exclaimed, rewarding him by riding him faster.

Jake felt all of your movements, the overwhelming sensation making his body rock with tremors “Can’t… can’t.”

“No, you can.” You grasped his shoulders and moved your hips almost frantically, your clit brushing against his skin.

His body tensed, his feet flexing and relaxing, “Fuck… I’m gonna cum again.”

You bit your bottom lip, feeling your climax reach as well “Mh… give it all to me, Jakey.”

His hands moved to your breasts as he squeezed them to the point of pain, you clenched around him and he snapped.

His cum shot inside of you, his cock throbbing painfully as he came for the third time of the night.

He whimpered when you didn’t stop, trying to move you away but you didn’t, you just kept moving until you saw white as well.

Your legs trembled as you reached your euphoria, while Jake’s body collapsed whole on the bed.

His eyes slowly closed, too tired to even stay awake. He slowly succumbed to sleeping.

You smiled victoriously, feeling your powers raise even more. Standing up, you let the remaining of his semen drop out of you and stretched.

Sighing contentedly, you reached for your discarded shorts and put them back on.

“I’m feeling so refreshed!” You smiled happily, but as you turned around you saw Jake’s slumped figure on the mattress.

Feeling pitiful, since he seemed so vulnerable, you covered his naked body with the blanket. Smiling at his face, you noticed he really was a pretty guy.

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, moving some hair out of his sticky forehead.

“See you soon, Jakey.” You smirked and disappeared, with the intention of coming back to him whenever you felt weak. Which, maybe would’ve happened more often.

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Read Between the Lines

Request: anonymous said: "I was wondering maybeeee if you could write some protective bf Tyler ( because i would be swooning ) maybe either someone keeps hitting on her so he steps in or someone maybe in another storm chasing crew is being mean so he steps in and defends her <3 idk"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: language, mild fighting i guess?? slight angst

A/N: sorry I haven't been posting as frequently! I started work up again and ya girl has been BUSY. Anyyywayyy, thank you for reading! please keep the comments coming! I love to see all your requests and I promise i'm getting to them as quickly as i can :)

“Need anything?” Tyler asked, leaning against the hood of the truck in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is. 

“I’m good,” you said, offering him a gentle smile before brushing a few loose strands of hair from your sticky forehead. 

“You wanna come in with me then?” 

You shook your head– the idea of sitting in a stale diner with no AC was just about as unbearable as the thought of driving another second. “No, I think I’ll stretch my legs out here.”

“Okay,” he said in a tone that indicated you’d be missing out. He gave the truck a pat before adding, “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” you assured him. 

He offered one final nod before turning and following Dani, Boone, and Lily across the parking lot. Dexter also stayed behind. Instead of shitty diner food, he’s opted to take a nap inside the RV accompanied by his noise canceling headphones and a fan blasting right at his face. 

You were exhausted, down to your bones. You and the rest of the team had driven nearly six hours that day tracking a cell that hadn’t ended up amounting to anything. You were stiff and tired and irritable– just like everyone else. But you hoped that some time alone outside might help at least level out your mood.

You extended your arms over your head, groaning when you felt something lightly pop in your back, before craning your neck from side to side. The air was stifling– thick and humid with little to no breeze for any sort of relief. The heat hadn’t broken in nearly a week, and unfortunately for just about everyone, the truck’s AC didn’t work as well as it used to. 

The parking lot to the diner was relatively empty. Aside from the crew’s RV and truck, there was an SUV parked in one of the front spots and a small sports car with a steady cloud of smoke pouring out the cracked window.  

You let your eyes wander past the diner parking lot at the sprawling field across the road. The windmills were agonizingly still in the stale air– like even they were desperate for some reprieve. 

Your eyes fell shut as you took a few deep breaths, trying to get your bearings. 

Your peace lasted for about thirty seconds. And then the sound of blaring music and screeching tires had you turning your pulsing head. Instantly, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the familiar vans pulling into the lot beside you. 

Merrill Anderson and his crew started chasing in the area almost thirteen months ago. You knew because each and every moment that you’d known about their existence had been more painful than the last. 

Anderson was a meteorologist out of Texas that wore a cowboy hat almost as big as his mouth and an inflated ego to match it. He made sure you and everyone else around him knew that he had a PhD, and therefore, in his opinion, was automatically more entitled to chase. Him and Tyler had hated each other from the moment they met while chasing an EF2 in Arkansas– their feud only grew each time their paths crossed. 

Anderson was grinning at you through the window as soon as his van rolled by. You did your best to avert your gaze– hoping that lack of eye contact would avoid any sort of conversation. 

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky. 

“There she is,” he announced, boots scuffing against the dirt parking lot as he hopped out from the driver’s seat. 

“Now what're you doin’ out here all by yourself? Your team finally leave you behind? Realized they didn’t need two uni drop outs on their team?” he asked, tone already dripping in sarcasm. 

He was an antagonizer who got off on provoking others. And although you and Anderson had your fair share of unpleasant exchanges, you knew he only ever bothered you to get under Tyler’s skin. 

Tyler’s biggest weakness was that he was endlessly protective of the people he loved. You saw this particular trait as a strength– but you knew that Anderson fed off Tyler's anger, which you could only imagine was his intention now. Thankfully Tyler was in the diner– hopefully gorging on raspberry pancakes as you spoke. Because if he were to see Anderson talking to you– you knew this whole interaction would escalate quickly. 

“Anderson,” you sighed, leaning casually against the hood of Tyler’s truck. The smile you forced on your face was almost painful. “So lovely to see you, as always.”

You hoped if you withheld from his taunting, he might move on quicker. 

Instead, to your despair, he backtracked from his van to stand across from you. “You guys go ahead,” he instructed his crew. “I’m gonna spend some time with my friend here.”

They nodded before heading towards the diner, leaving the two of you alone. 

“You should teach that hillbilly- boyfriend of yours some manners. If I remember correctly, last time I saw him, he drove through a puddle to splash me.”

You bit back a grin as you recalled the moment he was referring to. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” you lied (it was absolutely on purpose). 

Anderson chuckled. “You know– I don’t know if we’ve ever had a conversation just us, without him lingering around. You’re much more pleasant. Both in conversation and in looks.” 

You felt a chill run down the length of your spine at his words– but the way he was looking at you was infinitely worse. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your chest– currently more exposed than you would like in the tanktop you wore in the stifling Oklahoma heat. You wished you had grabbed a shirt to cover up in– but they were all either dirty and packed away somewhere in your duffel. 

Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and crossed your arms, attempting to shield yourself from his lingering gaze. 

“Oh, hey now darlin’, don’t cover up. I’ve been stuck in the van all day with these jokers, this is the most action I’ve gotten all summer.” 

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you tried desperately to remain level headed. Anderson was a jerk– and he’d definitely make you uncomfortable… but you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever actually do anything to harm you.  

Then again, you’d never interacted with him for longer than a minute or two with Tyler and the rest of the crew at your side. This was uncharted territory that you didn’t care to explore. You felt your earlier determination to handle him on your own fade away with uneasiness.  

You turned your head towards the diner, hoping you might catch Tyler’s gaze through the window or something. Of course you were too far away for that– all you caught was the glare from the sun. 

“You know I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this, usually you’re all covered up,” Anderson whistled. 

As soon as he took a step closer, you instinctively moved too. Except your legs collided with Tyler’s truck– preventing you from actually going anywhere. For some dumb reason, you felt obligated to hold your ground– to not let him see how uncomfortable he was really making you. But with each passing comment, you grew more and more fearful. 

Anderson now had his body angled towards you with a look that could only be described as predatorial. “God, it’s true you don’t know what you’re missin’ til you see it. We should have these heat waves more often if it means I get to take a look at this every day.”

You tried and failed to remain stoic. You wanted to yell– to tell him to shut the fuck up. But for some reason, your body and brain weren’t connecting. 

“C’mon, where is she?” he taunted. “You know, your sweet side has its perks. But I much prefer ‘em a little spicy.” 

He took another few steps closer to you. It was subtle, but you noticed. Anderson was so obviously getting a kick out of whatever the hell he was doing here, and you were doing a piss-poor job at withholding from it, like you’d originally planned. 

“Why don’t you come on back in my van with me,” he winked. “I’m not sure how your hillbilly does it, but I can show ya a real good time.” 

Get away from me, you wanted to scream. But your mouth wouldn’t move– your voice was lost somewhere inside of you. And all you could get your body to do was lean away from him slightly. 

“Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he cooed. He was so close that you could almost smell his breath. Your brain told you to fight– to shove or kick or do something to get him away from you. But all those previous instincts you had to fight back faded into paralyzing fear. 

Anderson reached across the space between you to move a loose strand of hair from your face as you began to tremble. “And don’t be afraid, baby doll. I don’t bite… too hard. Owens ain’t gotta know–”

“Anderson!” 

Your head snapped at the sound of a familiar voice… Not just any familiar voice– Tyler’s voice. He was currently storming across the parking lot with a look of pure hatred across his face. The second his eyes landed on you– undoubtedly and obviously terrified, that anger only intensified. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” he demanded. His eyes were narrowed and shockingly darker than their normal shade of sage. 

“Here he is!” Anderson taunted. “Her douche bag in shining armor.”

You couldn’t help but notice Anderson didn’t step away. In fact, if anything, he looked like he was about to step closer, just to really test his limits. But then, to your relief, you saw Boone, Dani, and Lily storming out of the diner in Tyler’s wake– all coming to your rescue. 

In an instant, Tyler was there, stepping between you and Anderson– forming the protective barrier you needed to finally feel safe again. Without thinking, you fisted the back of Tyler’s T-shirt for good measure. 

“Easy, Rambo,” Anderson sneered. “I was just tellin’ your sweetheart here how much I enjoy her new look. Who knew she had all this hidin’ under those baggy shirts? That the reason you keep her hangin’ around, Owens? I knew she had to be good for something–”

But Anderson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew what was happening, Tyler was lunging forward and connecting his fist with Anderson’s nose. 

The crack as it broke was deafening, you released Tyler’s shirt to cover your mouth in shock. Tyler hit him with enough force that he went staggering back a few steps, his hands instantly moving to cup his face. 

Tyler was still shaking off his hand when Anderson stood up straight, blood pouring out of both nostrils. 

“Damn, that bitch must be as good as she looks if she’s worth all this,” Anderson continued to taunt. Even with a broken nose, he didn’t back down.  

Without even hesitating, Tyler moved to strike again. But as soon as he did, Boone and Dani were both stepping in front of him to break things up. 

“Easy, T–” Boone said. 

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tyler snarled in warning, pointing his finger over Boone’s shoulder. You’d never quite heard his voice so malicious or threatening before, and even though it was in your defense, it sent shivers down your spine.   

Suddenly, Lily grabbed your hand from the side, causing you to flinch. “It’s okay,” she said, tugging you a few steps away from the chaos– like she knew how badly you needed space from everything. “You alright?”

You nodded, flustered.  

“Next time you want to settle this without your little army of strays, you let me know, Owens. And next time you want a good time, Y/N, you know where to find me,” Anderson said, offering you a wink that churned your stomach. With that, he wiped some blood from his nose and began sauntering back towards his van. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tyler snarled, still being physically held back by Dani and Boone. 

“Yeah, and he’d deserve it. But he’s not worth catchin’ a charge,” Boone said. “It’s been a slow season and we don’t got the kind of money to bail you out of jail.”

“Take a breath, T,” Dani said. “He’s walkin’ away. Take a breath.”

You watched Tyler slowly come back to his body. He listened to Dani and took a deep breath– his shoulders visibly relaxing when he exhaled. It seemed to be enough for his friends to finally release him. 

As soon as he was free from their grasp, Tyler turned around– his attention landing on you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his previously menacing voice now laced with so much care and concern. He stood in front of you– his body blocking all views of Anderson and their vans. His hands moved to cup your cheeks gently. 

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anyone else. But even you knew it didn’t sound convincing. Your voice subtly cracked on the final word. 

Tyler stroked his thumb along your skin. The look on his face told you he didn’t quite believe you as his eyes flickered down to your trembling hands. Thankfully he didn’t ask more. 

“I gotta say that was a nasty right hook, T,” Boone said, clapping Tyler on the back as he approached. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“What’d that asshat say to you?” Lily asked. “You looked really shaken up when we saw you out the diner window.”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to repeat his taunts. You were shocked by how self-conscious you suddenly felt with everyone’s eyes on you. Anderson’s previous words had made you incredibly aware of every inch of yourself– like there was an electrical current humming underneath the surface of your skin. 

“Just the usual shit,” you tried to brush it off.  

You felt grateful when they didn’t push. 

Eventually, the crew disassembled– everyone focused on getting their stuff together to hit the road again. Anderson didn’t reemerge from his van, but as you sat idly in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, you didn’t take your eyes off from where it was parked– like you were anticipating some sort of retaliation. 

You remained hidden from the team– feeling so awkward and uncomfortable– like you didn’t want to be perceived or noticed by anyone. And you hated that Anderson’s words were the ones to make you feel that way. You couldn’t find any shirts in your duffel bag that weren’t disgusting. And currently you didn’t have the time or patience to dig through your second bag in the RV. So instead, you wrapped your arms awkwardly over your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible just as Tyler climbed into the front seat. 

“Everyone else is riding in the RV, it’s just us,” he said, eyes lingering on you. 

“Okay,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. You wondered if he ordered everyone in the RV so that you’d feel more comfortable. You made a mental note to thank him for that later, he was always so good at reading between the lines.  

Tyler instantly noticed your uneasiness. “Baby, what’d he say to you?” 

You shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “I mean, I think you caught the gist of it at the end there… Just a lot of that.”

You heard his loud exhale. “Just say the word and I’ll barge into that stupid van and kill him right now.”

The corner of your lip tugged into a small smile. “I just want you to stay here,” you admitted. 

He nodded solemnly. Without another word, Tyler passed you something he had scrunched up in his fist. It was one of his T-shirts– like he knew you wanted to cover up without even having to say it. You took the shirt– the thanks you wanted to offer him remained stuck in your throat, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind. 

Instead, he pretended to fiddle with the radio while you silently slipped the shirt on. Almost instantly, you felt like you could relax underneath the fabric of his clothes. 

You curled your arms around yourself and tucked your knees to your chest. When Tyler asked if you were ready to head out, you nodded without another word. 

…

It was only seven when you arrived at the motel. Tyler went into the lobby to book the rooms while everyone else hung back. Boone and Lily were going on and on about using the pool later that night, but once you’d grabbed your bags from the truck, you sort of tuned it all out. 

Tyler found you sitting on the curb once he’d passed out everyone else’s room keys. He picked up your duffel from the ground before speaking for the first time in almost an hour. 

“You ready for bed?”

You nodded, offering him your best attempt at a convincing smile.  

“C’mon,” he motioned his head to the left. “We’re upstairs.”

Tyler led the way to your room– and even though this was a dingy motel, you’d never seen anything more perfect. The shades were dark, the AC worked, and there was a single, plush-looking queen bed in the middle of the room just screaming your name. 

Tyler let you shower first. And when you emerged from the bathroom, all the sweat and grime finally washed from your skin, he was gone. But in his place, he’d laid out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for you to use. You almost teared up at the sight of just how thoughtful he was… Still reading between the lines. 

You’d spent the entire duration of your shower trying to convince yourself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Anderson was a jerk– of course he was going to say some jerk-ish things. It shouldn’t have been a surprise– and yet, you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt. It was like all the words he’d said to you had nestled underneath your skin and made a home for themselves. 

In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, you quickly shrugged on Tyler’s clothes before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around yourself. 

Almost as soon as you sat down, you heard the front door to the motel open up. Tyler stepped into the room carrying his own bag and a couple of water bottles he must’ve grabbed for the two of you. 

“Better?” he asked, handing you one. 

You nodded and cracked it open. “Much.”

Tyler sighed before joining you on the edge of the bed. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I-” you started and then stopped. Your hands were shaking, but you jumped when you felt Tyler’s hand close around yours, steadying them. His touch gave you just an ounce of courage to speak. 

“It wasn’t even anything that bad–” you admitted. “I meant it earlier, you heard the worst of it… I just, I don't know, I can't explain it. But everything he said made me feel so gross… and dirty, and…” And, well, you didn’t quite know what else. Words were hard to come by tonight. 

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled. He released your hand to wind his arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his chest instead.  

It wasn’t until he shushed you that you even realized you were crying, but it came out in a rush. You clung to him, instantly impressed by his ability to just make you feel so much safer. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assured you, only squeezing tighter. 

“I don’t know why this bothered me so much–” 

“Because Anderson is an asshole and he intentionally said some gross shit to shake you up,” he answered for you. “You’re allowed to be upset by that.” 

You exhaled against his shirt, and when you licked your lips, you tasted salt. 

“I’m the sorry one,” he said. 

“What?” you shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry–”

“I should have been there.”

“You were there,” you reminded him. “Unless I blacked out or something and I was really the one who punched him in the nose…”

Tyler chuckled softly, you felt the vibration against your chest– instantly soothing you. 

You sighed after a moment, trying to decide if you wanted to share what was really bothering you. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was so tempting to keep it to yourself, but more tempting than that was the idea of finally feeling a little more at ease again after just telling Tyler the truth. 

“I just–” you paused again. “I–” 

“Hey,” he said. You looked up at him briefly. “It’s just me.” 

That was the problem– it was Tyler. And you didn’t want Tyler thinking less of you because of what had happened. 

“I didn’t fight back,” you said quietly. “I just froze up– it was like I couldn’t even think straight. And he kept going and going, and I just stood there– taking it.”

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “What are you talking about?”

“It just felt like…�� your voice tapered off. 

Tyler waited a moment before asking gently, “Like what?” 

“It just felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard you. “Like I let it happen.”

“Baby,” Tyler sighed. “Baby, no. Anderson is such a jackass, it wouldn’t have mattered what you said–”

“But I could have told him to get the fuck away from me–”

“You were just trying to keep yourself safe. Baby, we can’t control how we react when we’re scared. It’s fight or flight–”

“Or freeze,” you mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Or freeze. I’m pretty sure fawning is one too, now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter– what matters is you can’t control that you froze. Just like–”

“Just like you couldn’t control punching him in the face?” you asked. 

You glanced up just in time to see Tyler’s lips tug into a smile. “Exactly,” he said. 

“I just wish my fear reaction was a little more effective,” you pouted. “Freezing didn’t do much.”

You let your eyes fall shut when Tyler tugged you closed to his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a douchebag in shining armor to come help whenever you need it,” he smirked. 

“Thanks for protecting me,” you said quietly. 

“I’ll always protect you, you know that,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

You smiled against his chest. You really did know that. “And thanks for punching him in the nose.”

Tyler snorted. “Anderson’s had that coming for a long time.”

[princessbrunette]

Reader visiting pogue!rafe and wearing the tiniest sundress to thank him for taking such a good care of her and for coming to midsummer. She would give him the sloppiest nastiest blowjob because she is so grateful

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

it was one of those really hot days. the type where your clothes stick to you, even the hot breeze serves as no relief and you just wish to be left alone.

it was rafe’s day off from the building site, which he’s grateful for — as he’s not sure he’d be able to manage under such harsh conditions. the pogue lounges on his beat up couch infront of his shitty tv with a beer, legs spread — the rickety oscillating fan by his side offering no solace from the thick muggy air. just as he starts to find the energy to be irritated with this, there’s a knock at his door. the last thing he needs.

“jesus—what, i can’t have one god-damn day…” he mutters away to himself like a grumpy old man as he storms to the door, swinging it open. lo and behold, there you are in the tiniest, flimsiest sundress holding a crate of beer, looking a little clammy but excited to see him nonetheless.

“hi rafe!” you chime, totally unaffected.

“the hell are you doin’ all the way out here, s’not a nice part of the island, alright—”

“i come bearing gifts. may i come inside?” you ask so sweet and politely, leaving rafe only able to blink at you for a moment before you’re shuffling past him anyway without an answer, humming to yourself. “i know these ones are your favourite. they’re probably a little luke warm by now ‘cos i had to carry them here but if i stick them in the fridge they’ll probably be good to go in another ten minutes or so.” you chat away happily, walking right through to the small fridge on the ground in his kitchen, absentmindedly bending all the way over to shove the crate inside, giving rafe a real show of the delicate panties beneath your dress.

“really you — you walked all the way here for some beers, alright— okay.” he shakes his head in exasperation, turning and flopping back down onto the couch, closing his eyes for a moment at the unbearable heat. suddenly, you were right there.

“not just that.” your voice is softer now, closer. he can feel your breath on his face and it’s cold somehow— like you’d been sucking on an ice pop before coming in. the feeling isn’t unwelcome. his eyes flutter open, and it’s like someone had turned a switch inside of you because suddenly you’re all hungry eyes, wet mouth, hands that fidget for him.

“…no?” he drawls lazily, barely making an effort to shove an eyebrow up in questioning.

“wanted to thank you specially. for looking after me so well after midsummers. you’re a really good guy, rafe.” you’re so sweet it’s sickly and rafe shakes his head, averting his gaze with a lick of the lips and an eye roll.

“look i was just doing what anyone would have done alright — no need to make it a whole thing—”

“please… can i just show you how grateful i am? i’ve been practicing.” you practically groan, hands clenching into the fabric of his shirt.

rafe is starting to realise he has a real problem with saying no and standing by that— because soon he’s got you between his legs, drool leaking down onto his couch from the sloppy way you mouth at his cock, making out with the tip and taking breaks to ease him into your throat until there are tears on your cheeks. you seem as happy as anyone could be, little pleased moans and mewls leaving you periodically.

“the hell did you mean you’ve been practicing?” rafe asks between winces, a sharp pain in his abdomen at the thought of you getting in your blowjob rehearsals with another guy. he didn’t like that, and more importantly he didn’t like that he felt that way.

you reply to him, but it’s all garbled and spitty because his dick’s jammed half way down your throat so he pulls you off by the jaw, furrowing his brows curiously urging you to repeat yourself. you swallow, blinking wide wet eyes up at him.

“dildo.” you hum, before pushing his hand off and getting back to work. rafe relaxes back into the couch with an amused scoff.

“shit. your parents have got no clue, huh? no clue that they’ve got such a dirty little girl.” he spreads his legs a little wider, resting a hand on the back of your head.

you pull your mouth off to pull his cock to stand upright to access his balls, sucking and massaging them. “m’your dirty little girl too.” you respond in a shyer tone, almost like you were asking for permission. rafe blinks at you in zoned out analysis, wondering just what your father wasn’t providing you in order to make everything that came out of your mouth so wrong and freudian. rafe was just some construction working pogue — that’s how he saw it anyway. what it was about him that made you latch onto him so tightly and rely on him of all people for emotional validation and nurture was beyond him. you must’ve been a total masochist.

as you continue sucking he realises he didn’t so much mind the comment. everyone was ‘little’ to him at such a height so he’d let you have it.

“uh-huh. that right?” he entertains it, repositioning your mouth over his tip forcefully and feeding it back down your throat. “gonna let me in that throat now? huh? lemme cum baby? thought you were grateful. show me how thankful you are that i was nice to you, c’mon.” he pants, feet planted to the floor now as he lifts his hips �� impatient. each little wet gag fuels him, and he chuckles breathlessly at the way you squeeze your eyes and fists closed to endure his manhandling.

“yeah not — not being very nice now am i? nah… s’what you get for messing with us nasty pogues. savages, baby.” he’s actively teasing you, making fun of the kook rhetoric as he pushes himself toward release. he knows those aren’t your views, but it’s satisfying to poke fun at you all the same.

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

[riekirei]

00:00 — nishimura riki

your boyfriend, riki, came home after an exhausting day, working and practicing. you stay up and wait for him til late to see him come home, tired.

pairing: idol bf!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: reader and riki call each other baby, reader kisses riki on the forehead and cheek

[requested]

word count: 735

author’s note: this is just so cutee. i enjoyed writing this sm and i hope you enjoy reading it as well! not proofreaadd btw

[🎧 now playing: soren by beabadobee]

22:12

you were scrolling on your phone, laying down across the couch with a fluffy blanket covering you body. you were waiting for riki to get home from working at the hybe building. you figured he was up practicing after a long day of promoting and shooting for their recent comeback. you weren't too sure where he was at the moment. he might've been on his way home, maybe even at the studio this late at night. 

22:27

you decide to text him.

“babyyy”

“where r uu :(“

you type in and send. you blink a few times, feeling how droopy your eyes were. it was getting late and you couldn’t deny how sleepy you were. you yawned as you shut your phone off, laying it by your side. you pulled your blanket up to your chin and laid there, wondering were riki could be.

22:46

some time later, you check your phone to see if he had responded. ‘delivered.’ riki hadn’t opened your message. he was probably on his way home right now so you didn’t really worry. 

your eyelids were heavy and you couldn’t fight off how much you wanted to sleep. eventually, you fell asleep on the couch, tucked into the fluffy blanket. 

23:07

you awake to the sound of keys clanking right outside the door. the doorknob twisted and the door opened, revealing the sight of your boyfriend. he took his shoes off and dropped his bag onto the floor. you rubbed your eyes and just as you were about to stand up and greet him, you see him walk into the bedroom with his eyes half shut.

“woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going?” you ask him as he trailed off. “sleep” he said. “noo, baby. not just yet. we need to get you washed up first” you told him. riki stops and turns to see you. “babyy~ can we go to sleep?” he asks you, slowly blinking and standing still, clearly tired. you walk towards him and grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the bathroom you had in the room. “let’s wash up first, pleaaaseee?” you softly say, looking into his eyes. riki nods and walks with you towards the bathroom.

you help him get into the shower and handed him his towel and his new change of clothes. riki took a quick shower and as soon as he got out, you helped him dry his hair and body. you made sure he was feeling okay. as you pat his face down with a towel, you could tell just by his eyes how exhausted he was. “tired hm?” you asked him. all he did was nod. you smile and caress his cheek. 

23:32

after riki washed up, brushed his teeth, and changed his clothes, he laid down onto his side of the bed. you came shortly after with a glass of water you took from the kitchen while riki was changing. you handed it over to him and waited for him to finish before setting it aside for him on the bedside table. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and closed the lights, leaving only a dim one by the doorway lit up. 

you watched riki as his eyes shut. you rub circles onto his temples and forehead to help him relax and release any tension he had. riki then rested his hand by your waist, bringing you in slightly closer. your hands move up and made its way onto his hair. you play with it and lightly massaged his scalp. riki had a smile across his face.

23:49

you thought of putting pain relief patches on his shoulders to relieve any of the pain his muscles might’ve had from practicing and working all day. you get up to fetch them from a drawer in your closet. you gently lift his shoulders up to place the patches onto them. you lay him back down, looking at him, admiring how pretty he was.

23:59 

you pushed riki’s hair back and gave him a kiss on the forehead and on the cheek. going back down, riki hugged your torso and you buried your face into his chest. “i’m so proud of you for always working hard. good night. i love you, riki” you say before closing your eyes and finally falling asleep in his embrace.

00:00

“i do it for you. i love you more, y/n”

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[slut4thebroken]

Teddy Bear

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Tommy Shelby x step daughter!reader

Summary | Your (step)dad uses you as stress relief.

Warnings | Smut, technically incest ig, praise, innocence kink, corruption, creampie, too many pet names, daddy kink kinda.

Words | 1.1 k

Notes | Idk if corruption + age difference are the right descriptions but I’m so fucking exhausted that I literally can’t figure out anything better lol. Feel free to lmk if y’all think something else would fit more than this.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 14 corruption + age difference

Read this before continuing ❤️

You whined at the feeling of his fingers curling almost violently against your walls, trying to get you warmed up as quickly as possible. Tommy had stormed into your room, startling you awake. He barely said a word as he ripped the covers away and pulled your panties off your body. He didn’t even bother removing your nightie before climbing over you and shoving two fingers inside. Your legs wrapped around his hips and he suddenly leaned down to kiss you, knowing that it always makes you needier. The kiss was messy and sloppy and desperate as he pressed the heel of his hand against your clit and forced a third finger inside you. 

He was starting to focus on spreading his fingers, working you open for his cock rather than actually trying to pleasure you. After only a few minutes, he removed them and opened his pants, not even bothering to undress. You hugged your teddy bear for comfort and whined at the uncomfortable pressure when he pushed his cock against your entrance, struggling to fit. 

“Come on, little one… Let me in.” He whispered, voice low and raspy. He kept pushing until he finally breached your opening, forcing a startled sound of pain from you. “Good girl.” He groaned, not stopping until he was buried completely inside you, forcing your walls to stretch almost painfully wide to accommodate his girth. Without even giving you a moment to adjust, he slowly drew his hips back, then pushed forward again at the same speed, making you whimper. 

“Daddy,” You whined, staring up at him with teary eyes. Your walls were desperately fluttering around his cock, trying to expel the intrusion.  

“You can take it.” He said softly, already starting to speed up. You whimpered and hugged your teddy bear to your chest even tighter. “You can fucking take it.” He gruffed. You could tell that he was only getting more worked up. After barely a few minutes, his pace got even faster until he was quickly bucking into you, ignoring your soft cries and whimpers.  

However, the pain was starting to go away as the pleasure of him fucking you took over. It was still too much, too soon though. But Tommy didn’t seem to care about how you were feeling at all. The fact that you were starting to feel better didn’t change anything in the way he rutted into you desperately, grunting and panting as he focused on his own pleasure. 

“You’re just the perfect little girl for daddy, aren’t you?” He cooed, almost mockingly. “So tight, making the sweetest little sounds, letting me use you however I want… Such a good girl.” You whined and blushed at the praise, hiding the bottom half of your face behind the teddy bear. 

Suddenly leaning up, he grabbed the tops of your thighs, then started snapping his hips into you at breakneck speed. You cried out and squeezed the stuffed animal even tighter, trying to cope with the overwhelming feeling. 

When he just kept pounding you at a brutish pace, you finally whimpered out, “Daddy, please slow down.” 

In response, he adjusted his grip on your thighs and shushed you before fucking you even harder. “You’re my good girl. You can take it.” He gruffed, pounding your already sore pussy without paying any mind to your reactions. “You just lay there and hug your teddy bear, love. I need this.” His breathing was growing heavier from the exertion. 

“It hurts.” You whined. 

“Just a little longer, baby. I’m almost done.” His cheeks were a little flushed as he panted, only focusing on rapidly bucking his hips to bring himself closer to his release. Each time the blunt head of his cock kissed your cervix, you whimpered in discomfort and your face scrunched up a little more from the slight pain. 

“Such a good girl…” He cooed, dragging his gaze over your face, admiring your flushed cheeks and teary eyes, before drifting down to your body. “Let daddy see your tits, little one.”

You whined and looked away as your blush darkened, but reluctantly reached for your nightie to pull it up the rest of the way, making him groan at the sight. Your nipples were already pebbling from the cool air and your breasts were moving embarrassingly with each thrust. 

“You are so beautiful, angel.” He said breathily and your blush got even darker. “Such pretty little tits, and such a perfect little cunt… made just for daddy.” You mewled at his words and he let out a breathy laugh. 

“Please..” You whined. 

“Almost there, baby.” He panted quietly, his thrusts becoming even more desperate and frantic. The sight of you just laying under him and taking it was exactly what he needed right now to take his mind off of everything. It reminded him that no matter how stressful things got, he had you to make him feel better. “Ready for my come, sweetheart?” He cooed, voice thick with arousal. 

You nodded with a blush, hugging your teddy bear again, but making sure he could still see your breasts like he wanted. Your soft little whimpers and moans had his balls drawing up tight, preparing for his release. But you quietly whining, “Please, daddy,” was what sent him over the edge.

He slammed into you with a grunt of satisfaction, the force of his hips jerking you up the bed a little bit. You whimpered and buried the bottom half of your face in the stuffed animal, feeling the discomfort and slight pain, but not wanting to interrupt him. He rode out his orgasm, depositing every last drop of his seed deep in your greedy cunt. Even after the pleasure faded, he didn’t move for a while as he caught his breath. 

“Good girl.” He whispered, leaning down over you, making you whimper when his cock shifted inside your sore pussy. He gently grabbed the teddy bear and pulled it away, setting it on the bed beside you, then he captured your lips in a soft kiss, grunting when your walls fluttered around his sensitive cock. You whined when he pulled back, and again when he pulled his cock out, but he ignored it. 

Tommy cupped your cheek and just stared at you for a moment, dragging his gaze over your flushed cheeks and youthful features. “My good girl…” He murmured, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Thank you, little one. Daddy really needed this.” He smiled a little, watching your blush darken. You nodded shyly in response and he finally leaned back up. 

He tucked his cock back in his pants, then pulled your nightie down again and handed you the teddy bear. After pulling up the covers, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, making your whole face turn a little pink. 

“Go back to sleep, love. I’ll check on you in a few hours, alright?” You nodded obediently and he couldn’t help but plant one last kiss on your lips before going back to his study. 

[nouearth]

candy-wasted.

john krasinski x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. with halloween coming to a disappointing end, what's a better way to end the holiday than to get candy-wasted on john's offer of his king-sized candy bar?

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 6.7k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 domestic!au 〳 halloween!au 〳 husband!john 〳 established relationship 〳 kissing 〳 sexual content: top!john, bottom!reader, anal penetration, rough!sex, no prep, breeding, spitting, blowjob (r!giving), pain kink, slapping, spanking, armpit fetish, humiliation, degradation, body worship, cock worship, over-stimulation, extremely hung!john.

“Think that might be the last of ‘em,” John said, shutting the front door and turning off the porch light. “Not a single Lydia Deetz, Ennui, Deadpool, or Wolverine costume in sight.”

It was Halloween night.

Declaring Halloween as your favorite holiday would be unjust to the true fanatics. More than anything, you loved the celebration for the atmosphere. You loved the smell of autumn coming into full bloom by virtue of artificial cinnamon and apple in soy candles rather than the fresh leaves withering outside. You loved driving by neighborhoods to see all the houses that had been decorated, fictionalizing a house-decorating competition in the process. You loved how spooky TV would get, from horror movies to reruns of old sitcom episodes that had a Halloween theme.

Most important of all, you loved taking your kids out to trick or treat with John, watching them outgrow their costumes every year and growing teary-eyed at the likelihood that they’d eventually stop having you and John come along with them in favor of their friends.

Even though you mentally prepared yourself for the moment, you weren’t expecting this year to be the time where your son and daughter would tell you that they would be sleeping over at a friend’s for the celebration. As if there was any option for you and John to protest too, it suddenly struck you how quickly they were becoming their own person, because they had already packed their bags the night before.

But also—damn you, for raising them to be so direct.

When John returned back to the couch, you glanced at the bowl.

“Do kids these days not go trick-or-treating anymore? We’re doing less refills than usual,” You took the half-empty bowl from him and rummaged through the assorted candy bars. “When I was a kid, I used to circle my neighborhood multiple times because I was determined to not end the night with a barren bucket. I also knew my parents would steal from my stash whenever I was asleep, so that was another incentive to prolong the pain in my little kid legs.”

You knew you were babbling and were beyond caring. From the smile John gave you, he seemed more entertained by the endless vault of childhood stories than the horror marathon you two had started since six o’clock in the evening.

“All those candy runs seem to be paying off considering your calves are the size of bowling balls,” John laughed, arranging your legs to lay them across his lap as you resumed lounging. To prove his point, he began unzipping your costume’s pant leg one-by-one, ventilating your ankles and calves finally free from the tight spandex.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the draft in the air chilled the sweat on your skin, then another, when John’s large hands began stroking and kneading at your legs. You probably should have guessed that John had other intentions in mind since his hands only traveled north, in which your calves were nowhere to be found.

But what would be the fun in calling out your lover’s extremely apparent advances? For a brief moment, you two sat in silence, putting the TV on mute because the marathon had run its course, but also to hear the sound of John’s hands, calloused, warm, and large over the plane of your body, exploring you and the ribbed costume like he was learning texture for the first time.

It had been quite a long time since it was this quiet in the house. You had to have accidentally said it out loud, or John’s telepathic abilities were only awakened on Halloween night, because he was looking at you like you had whet his appetite, hazel eyes cataloguing your body like it was a dirty magazine, lips bitten in secrecy.

“What’s on your mind, Captain America?” You let your legs wrap around John’s waist when he pulled you to sit on his lap, fixing his tousled hair with a smooth swoop of your hand, and affectionately squeezed his large shoulders after.

God, John filled out his costume so well. No wonder you couldn’t stop glancing at him throughout the night, the tactical suit made him look much larger and imposing—you couldn’t help but run your hands all over his body and his tight muscles beneath the fabric, the contoured lines of the costume was practically inviting you to do so.

“I’m thinking… the neighborhood is quiet. I’m thinking that the kids are preparing for bed, and that the parents are drunk off their children’s candy stash, which means you can finally take it easy for tonight, Spider-Man.” John’s smile was terribly broad. You could feel him fiddling with the pull tab on the back of your costume with one hand while the other was caressing the side of your thigh, nearing dangerously closer to your rump.

It was a cheap costume that ran for no more than forty bucks, which meant you could feel the heat radiating off of John’s palm.

“Take it easy? I’ve been taking it easy. I got my popcorn, some king-sized candy bars, a scary flick, a rather inquisitive man holding me…” You shivered when his hand paused on your right buttock and squeezed. “Nothing’s beating this right now.”

He began kissing your neck, his beard ticklish and feathery over your flesh. “Really? Nothing at all?” Both of his hands were on your rump now, massaging tenderly at the handful of thick flesh in his palms.

You must have indulged in the warmth and strength of John’s grip on you for far too long, because out of the blue, he began knocking the silence out of you with strong smacks to your ass, drawing out a collection of moans and grunts from you as he fixated on marking up your neck until your mouth was in vicinity.

When his strong palms came down onto your cheeks again, your lips parted at the right moment he would seize them, capturing your mouth for a slow, languid kiss. John’s lips tasted like a celebration. You could feel the crumbs of sugar from the fruit ropes he was eating prior roll off his lips and onto your tongue, flavoring the kiss of green apple. You moaned, gently holding at both ends of his jaw, while your hips grew conscious of how your body was reacting to John’s tongue invading your mouth, pressing your growing tent against his pelvis with slow rolls, pushing your ass out to meet his hands.

“Nothing at all, unless…” You groaned when the stinging over your covered ass was only heightened by the unrelenting grasp John had on your ample skin. If he wasn’t so busy tonguing your mouth open, you wouldn’t be surprised to find him tearing your costume into two within the next second. “You have something to bestow upon me?”

“Ever heard of a monster-sized candy bar? I got one that’s filled with vanilla cream for you, specifically curated to your taste buds. What do you think? I’ll trade ya’.” The spirit of Halloween affected him as he laughed into the kiss, the tip of his nose crinkling in effect and swiping over yours when he resumed in exploring your mouth.

“I think it sounds like a trick, you a con-man?” You lightly pushed at his chest to break from the kiss, then lingered to silently admire his well-built pecs. You weren’t sure if you were more turned on by John’s hard-work and dedication, or the fantasy of him as a superhero—saving you from your ultimate demise.

Regardless, your hips only rutted harder, swooping low to brush your erection against his, then raising them high, to grind your rump over his arousal.

“Keep moving your hips like that, and you’ll find the answer soon.”

An inquisitive hand of yours reached in between John’s thighs. It didn’t take long, hardly a millisecond, to find what you’d been searching for.

The mass in your palm was overwhelmingly large and thick. You felt your throat go dry when the weight of John’s bulge was heavy enough to unfurl itself within his suit, across his right thigh, and reach to a point of hardness where one hand of yours found it impossible to tame it alone.

You stroked the enormous print, focusing on the apparent head with your thumb, and then squeezed. Hard.

“Fuck, (M/N). Upstairs, now.”

As you sat on your knees, the scent of arousal filled your nostril. There was something enthralling about this position, being bare and naked on the carpet, while you were looking up at John’s hard cock through your lashes. He was already monstrous enough, but the angle from below provided insight just exactly how jaw-dropping his size was.

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Captain. What would you like in exchange?” Bracing your hands on his strong calves, you nuzzled the underside of his erection. You sucked in a breath at the smell of it. The heat and musk built from a long day of work, finally released out into the air, tickled your nose pleasantly and made your mouth water. “‘Three musketeers?’ ‘Butterfingers?’ ‘Hershey’s?’” You slapped his heavy cock over your lips, mouthing over the tender spots of his glans.

He had his arms behind his head, exhaling slow and steady, sporting an expression that told you he was the luckiest man alive, not that you needed that affirmation, as you held his cock tight around the base and suckled at the plump, pink tip. “How about ‘(M/N)’s Pieces?’ Yeah? Is that up for grabs?”

You could feel his hairy thighs tense up when you taunted him with the tiniest licks over his heavy, full balls. It was amusing, watching his cock jolt over your face—like they were envious of such half-hearted actions.

“You mean, the candy that would make a kind and handsome dad, such as yourself, turn into a ferocious beast of a man?” Holding John’s lustful gaze, you took a long and slow lick at the underside of his shaft, the girth of it thicker than the width of your tongue.

You felt complacent when he let out a hoarse moan upon pressing your nose deep into his cock-slit, inhaling deep. “Yeah, that one…”

You traced the prominent veins on his cock with your tongue—thick, pumping blood vessels that made him throb over your mouth with rage. “You know, you’d have to work really hard…” Between fondling and suckling his full sack into your mouth, you stroked his shaft and muttered, “To break me into pieces.”

It was difficult enough to maintain some semblance of order, but the taste of John’s sweat, blooming delicately and stimulating your appetite like an hors d’oeuvre, made you nearly submit as your knees felt inclined to spread wider, and wider, letting you enjoy your last moments before you’d yield.

You hoped you were distracting John enough, being caught in the middle of humping the air and fucking yourself back on some imaginary dick would’ve gave him the upper hand.

“I do—oh, fuck…” He choked back on a moan, the heat of your mouth as you suddenly slid his cock inside melted the composure off his face. His thick shaft strained, stretching your wet mouth uncomfortably. The chances of you taking all of John inside of your mouth was slim to none. You’d done this so many times, tried everything, from practicing with a dildo to enduring the tears welling, to get him down your throat, but your body wouldn’t give in—it simply couldn’t.

He was much too big for your own good.

John was large. Tall. Always has been, and always will be. His muscular legs were open wide, his face was slack-jawed from your tantalizing tongue, and even though you could barely fit half of his cock inside of your mouth, you were still in control.

You pulled him out with a gasp, nearly choking back on the spit pooled in the back of your mouth, and sniffled. “You do? You sure about that?” There was no doubt that the inevitable was going to happen. Gagging on John’s large cock was a given, but it was the messiness of it all, that made your cock leak. “I don’t think you can handle it.”

His cock was coated thick and heavy in a glorious sheen of spit, translucent pearls shining on the veiny skin. One hand was massaging his balls while the other was adamant in slicking him up until the weight of your own saliva was enough to weigh him down.

You temporarily freed John from your fist to slap his wet and large cock around. It was delectable, watching his giant tool swing from the impact of your smacks. Webs of thick spit occasionally flung to your face, as if his dick was fighting back against your horrendous taunts, but all you needed to do was tame it with your mouth again, and the reign on John’s body resumed.

“I am, and I can…” John grunted, his abdominal muscles flexing. You could see his toes curling into the carpet at the corner of your eye, swirling your tongue over the swollen pink head while the rest of his monster cock was being man-handled by your quick hand, tightly grasping to keep your hand from slipping.

“You absolutely sure?” Your words turned him on, his cock maddening in course as it spat out drips of pre-cum from the squeezing grip you had around his shaft.

The substance wouldn’t stance a chance against your urges, you eagerly went on to lap it up, forcing more of the viscous fluid to come out with competitive strokes to aid.

“I’m sure—baby, come on, enough—“ He struggled to contain his moans, arching his hip forward to push himself further into your mouth, but you wouldn’t have it. Instead, you reeled yourself back, slapping his cock once again as punishment, and remained at tip’s length.

You could tell he was getting frustrated, you knew of his mannerisms for years now. For God’s sake, you were his husband. His jaw tightened and his eyes leered down at you with sudden alert—like a silent warning. He exhaled sharply as if the draft in the room had infected his strong body with frostbite.

Nonetheless, you continued entertaining yourself, knowing the consequences—anticipating them, rather.

You tongued the urethra of his dick, welcoming every drop with greedy sucks, all while you hadn’t left John out of your sight for a single second. You could make John orgasm right then, you were so sure of it.

“You really, really, really sure?” Your smile was smug, feigning innocence while you mouthed on his thick piece of meat, stroking yourself to the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from his tip.

John’s gaze immediately darkened.

He loved watching you slap his dick across your face. He loved being in awe at his own size, especially when you’d shower him in praises as you compared his big cock to your forearm.

I’m going to break my ass taking you, John. Holy fuck…

He loved having his dick sucked, point blank period. How sloppy it could get, how nice his cock felt when it was being slimed up with such pent-up arousal. You were confident that you were over-delivering in that department too because the lower half of your face was dripping in your own saliva.

“What’s the matter, big man? You don’t want to fuck me anymore? Break me into pieces like you originally wanted to? Think you won’t satisfy me enough?” You pursed your lips over the plump head, provoking John by the sudden languid pace of your wrist. “Answer me,” You slapped his large cock again, your own erection throbbing from watching John grit his teeth in sudden refusal to give in.

“Are you sure or not? Huh? Answer me,” John sucked in his teeth every time you smacked his cock, and you proceeded to hound him harder, narrowing your tone. “Your cock’s useless. Can’t satisfy me. Can’t satisfy a fucking flashlight with how big it is.”

“Ghoul got your tongue, or what?” You smacked his cock hard. “Your big fucking cock—” His cock swung. “—seems to be doing—” Pulsed in a fit of pique. “the speaking for y—“

A harsh slap cut your taunts short.

You let out a gasp, your hand instantly coming up to hold your cheek and tranquilize the stinging pain. Shock crossed your face, bewildered as though you hadn’t been anticipating his catharsis the entire time.

“Enough,” He pulled you up by the jaw to meet your lips hungrily, his large hands clamped tight around your neck like you were fresh carp farmed for hatchery. “You’re really testing me today, aren’t you?”

The kiss was searing, your lips volunteering themselves to be bitten and sucked to be forgiven upon the increasing pressure around your throat. Maybe you were still coming to terms with the slap, but it swallowed you whole nonetheless, rendering you incapable of producing a single coherent thought.

You whimpered softly, his resentment was beyond recall as his hands remained solid, one thumb looming over the center of your throat, “Hit me again—“

He stabilized you with one hand around your throat, squeezing tight, and let his other hand swing across your cheek, harder than previously.

“F-fuck!” You could feel your cheek blooming with heat, stinging as if a million of rose thorns had prickled your skin to poison you with its color, and you couldn’t have asked for more.

It was too good. John’s large hand imprinted hot on your face, and it felt too fucking good. You were branded, an extension to the wedding band around your finger, a reminder of your undying love for him.

“Get on the fucking bed,” John growled, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth, slow yet imposing, before sending you away with a gentle kiss on your stricken cheek, a much-needed relief you had been silently clamoring for.

The metal clanking behind you sounded like church bells, but you resisted the temptation of looking over your shoulder, fearing that whatever John had in mind, he’d strip it away upon your lack of diligence. You crawled onto the bed on all fours and anticipated nervously

At long last, you felt your royal throne crumble into a million pieces.

You suppressed an urge to swear. The heat emanating from a strip of leather when he struck your ass was bartered directly with the devil himself. Another peep out of you, and John would’ve banished you to hell to pay your dues to the fallen angel.

“It was cute, I have to admit…” Your body jolted when John muttered near your hear. In the time his hand was soothing your whipped ass cheeks, the other had a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back for you to look at him. “Seeing you think you had control over me, even going as far as to humiliate me and my cock—did that make you happy? Huh?”

“I-I don’t know—“ You struggled to find the words, your mouth parting instead to lean in for a kiss in hopes to distract him, but John quickly caught on. He knew you, very well in fact, yanking your head back harder to coax a gasp out of you. As John had expected, he then pushed a thick wad of spit into your mouth before pulling you by the back of your neck into your original position.

You shuddered, smacking your lips at the arousing taste of John’s saliva spreading in your mouth. You savored him, wanted John to last forever on your tongue. You didn’t want to swallow. You wanted to simply let his spit pool with your own and mix into the perfect elixir that would work perfectly as a muscle relaxant, something that would greatly aid you in taking John’s cock—knowing the likelihood that he wouldn’t be easing up anytime soon.

“Answer me.” Your eyes widened in a silent plea when John taunted you with the belt in his hand. Before you could moan out so much of a beg, the leather in John’s hand came down swinging at your buttocks and seemingly cut through flesh. In turn, your four limbs gave out from the electrifying bolts of pain, making you collapse onto your stomach from the arresting strength of John’s resentment as you cried out in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck! F-fuck, fuck, fuck…!” You writhed in bittersweet glory, choking back on swears and instead, what came out were delicious straggled sounds that made John’s cock uncontrollably pulse. Your hands roamed the bedsheets, clawing at the silk material in search for a physical outlet to release the tension in your body. “I-I’m s-sorry—“

His cock was near you, lubed up in a thick, alluring sheen. Maybe John wouldn’t mind if you held him. Plead for him to stop with lazy, but abiding stroke. You bit your lips and stretched over to grab him.

He lifted your head again for you to face him. You sniffled, letting the tears roll down your flushed face before another wad of spit would accompany them in their journey. “You’re not answering my question. Were you happy?”

Upon barely brushing your fingers over the head of his cock, you reeled yourself back when the belt came striking down on your ass again, breaking skin as repercussions to your hedonistic behavior. Your legs came up to kick back at the air violently, grinding out the pain by digging your swollen cock into the bed.

You had enough.

You needed John.

Now.

“Y-yes! I was fucking happy! Watching your large cock swing like that. Degrading you to the point where you were too ashamed to answer me. Abusing your pathetic tool because it’s too immersed in its own girth to know that I actually despise your cock. Should’ve seen the look on your handsome face—god, I could’ve came right there. All because I was in control. You fucking let me, you fucking delusional self-obsessed cuck—”

At breakneck speed, John curtailed you of your vigorous speech by shoving your face into a pillow, mounting on top of you with one foot pressing hard to the back of your head, and grunted, “How do you like me now?” Pushing all of his body weight to vault you out of an escape route, you felt his cockhead suddenly breach your hole.

“Holy—shit!” You sobbed at the discomfort, kicking your legs back as John pushed more of his large cock further in, adding onto the painful stretch of your unsuspecting hole. You felt his a palm on your ass, spreading one cheek open to aid the slide. “Fucking, more—Johnny! More, more, more—“

“There we fucking go, fuck. Look at that hole. Fucking swollen around me, and I’m only halfway in,” he licked his lips, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm as he loosened your raw hole with shallow thrusts, his cock pushing deeper at every rut.

Your body’s natural reaction was to propel yourself up for some air, but after the first turn, John instantly took both of your wrists and bound them behind your back, your back muscles squeezing in effect. When you pushed your ass out, his foot pressed harder like it had the power to bury you six feet under if John had no concept of restraint.

It was painful, all of this, your neck was hurting, but especially your hole, his unrelenting thrusts—but, be that as it may, you were so happy that you didn’t have to remind John to leave you unprepared. Otherwise, the pleasure of John’s large cock gutting you raw wouldn’t have overstimulated you, not to this profundity. Your wriggles only made John hold onto your wrists tighter, his heel press deep into your nape, you were sure it would be bruised by the next morning.

You felt so used, your body at his disposal. Your cock was painfully rubbing between your pelvis and the bed from the impact of his strong thrusts, but you were leaking and throbbing nonetheless, staining the sheets from the thrill of it all—of being John’s personal fuck-toy.

“Feels fucking incredible. Shit, baby—“ His cock was digging into you like an excavator, slow in its journey, but you could feel him sowing excitement deep into you, nearing the crown of your prostate with the grind of his hips. You clenched tight, gripping your aching walls around the girth to provide John an incentive to go at you harder.

Not loose enough.

He had to fuck you open.

And you were desperate.

The perks to being married was that pleasuring one another came second nature to both parties. Luckily, you led a charmed life, and John was here to bestow upon you your weekly demands.

He released his foot on you, but you groaned when he pressed his remaining weight on top of your writhing body. “If you’re good…” John panted hot on your shoulders, accompanying the abruptly slow roll of his hips with chaste kisses to the shell of your ear and the moist parts of your neck. “Maybe I’ll let you play with your cock.”

“Please…” You flexed your toes into the sheets when John nearly pulled himself out, thankfully leaving only the swollen tip in.

“No, I had a change of heart. Maybe, I’ll let you jack off until you explode all over your sweaty body,” you pushed your ass back to slide more of him in, but a hard smack to your ass nipped your oscillation in the bud. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I’ll be good—promise…” you looked over your shoulder at John with glistening eyes and a sniffle, finding yourself frowning when he pulled himself completely out, and insisted on rubbing his wet cockhead over your raw, blossomed pucker.

“See? This is how it’s supposed to be—the natural order between you and I,” he sighed, giving into your desperation, and pulled you in for a sweet, lingering kiss after releasing your hands. A sigh of relief, you braced yourself half-way up with an elbow, the other hand reaching back to rest on John’s nape, and locked his lips deeply into yours, pacified by the soft fur of his beard on your chin.

His tongue messily swiped over yours as you both had intended to explore each other’s mouths. You two met in the middle, bridging each other’s spit from one mouth to the other. When a dribble of drool dared to leak from the corner of your mouth, John had incredible foresight and was already lapping it up before it could trail to the bottom of your chin.

“Say you love my cock…” John whispered, swaddling you into his arms from behind and carefully maneuvering your body on top of him as he switched positions, reclining himself onto his back.

Interlacing his legs with yours, John then pushed them apart with the spread of his knees, twisting his ankles over your own to lock you in place. He angled his hips to slide his dick over your taint, letting you wallow in the sight of his plump tool nearly curve over your throbbing erection.

“I love your cock…” You muttered softly, nuzzling the side of his kempt beard. The smell of bourbon vanilla lingered delightfully in your nostrils as you watched him from the corner of your eye, drooling when you caught a glance of his large cock spit thick drips of pre-cum over your balls.

It was fruitless to even try to attempt to close your legs, John’s calves overpowered your own by tenfold. In spite of your wish, John compensated by reaching below, trailing his warm hand over your ribs and stomach in passing, and wrapped his hand around your cock, slowly pumping.

“Say, you’ll be a good boy for me…” Brushing your hair back, John claimed a hold over the back of your head, raising his left arm to welcome your face into his armpit.

You moaned at the warm, musky odor. The thick hairs reeked of sweat. Salty and slightly spicy in your nostrils, yet you couldn’t help but inhale for more, breathing in the natural pheromones and making your cock dribble out ample amounts of pre-cum when the aroma of John’s masculine scent fogged your passing judgement, and had you licking at his pit.

John cradled the back of your head, quickening the strokes on your cock seemingly as a token of his appreciation while you buried your face in the bush of dark hairs, nuzzling and licking long stripes over the plane. It was addicting, yet embarrassingly filthy as it registered how easily John had reign over your freewill. Your spit gathered in the center of John’s armpit, where the hairs were grown the thickest. They were beads of your devotion, and you couldn’t have felt prouder marking your territory.

Your mouth watered and tingled at the ripe taste lasting on your tongue, then, when John suddenly tipped your chin up and spat inside of your mouth—you felt like you were in heaven, like your body wanted to crumble in front of him from the intimacy of it all.

He captured your lips again, and you muttered softly, “I’ll be a good boy…” You watched him with lustful eyes, anticipating his next move. His right hand had stopped stroking your cock in favor of massaging your tight balls, making you squirm with desire. When his other hand released his hold over the back of your head to toy with your perky nipples, the simultaneous pleasure carried a hoarse tune of desperation out from your throat.

“You’ll be daddy’s good boy?” He nuzzled your ear, kissing the shell of it.

“I’ll be whatever daddy wants me to be,” you slowly rolled your hips when you could feel John line his cock over your hole, lubing your pucker with the thick fluid leaking from the crown.

“And you want daddy’s big cock?” He rested one hand on each thigh respectively, spreading your legs farther by the aid of his knees.
 “I’m aching inside…” Your cock twitched upon feeling so completely vulnerable and bare for him.

“Then, let’s turn that ache into pleasure, shall we?”

That was all it took. A heartbeat, a single push of John’s hips, one strong stroke, and he claimed his territory. It was beautiful. Your silky flesh fluttered and clenched on his cock, and your eyes popped open wide when he slammed upward.

John ripped a glorious moan out of you. Your neck strained with beautiful veins as your attempts to bite them back were powerless in comparison to the spark of passion in John’s hips. You could see the very moment the fire flared in John’s eyes, his fingers gripping a mound of your thighs until they had turned white.

You were filled to the root, uncomfortably-so as John’s biceps bulged with strong veins on account of the bend of your legs. He capsized them, holding them back at the crook while he deliciously hollowed your hole deep with his monster cock, your feet dangling in the air from the pure drive.

It was a reminder. That you were his. That you were his only. Nobody could ever own you like he owned you now. John made sure those thoughts wouldn’t dissipate by making sure you felt every inch of his plump, meaty cock burrow in and out of you. John was adamant in making this more than a memory. He wanted you to wake up and sleep thinking about him. Thinking about his cock. Thinking about how brutally stretched you felt right now, and that you didn’t mind at all—because it was John, your loving husband. He would do anything for you, and right now, he was living up to his many vows of loving you fiercely, of completing you, of loving you forever and every day.

“T-too much, John—“ It wasn’t, you were lying—it was fucking perfect, but god, did you love making your husband feel powerful. You loved feeding his cock with arousal, feeling him throb harder while he pummeled himself faster into you at your spoken truth. “Cock’s too big—“

“I’ll make a cunt out of you, wear out your tight little hole until it’s leaking like one,” He growled. You cried out from unabashed lust, holding your legs back to expose yourself further, and John set the animal free at the depiction. He held your waist, dragging your unsullied hole through his hardness until only the tip was left before connecting the drop of your weight with a powerful thrust, punching into your prostrate.

“That’s what you are, right? My good little cunt? Just a good boy who can do nothing right, but take my large cock.” John gutted loud moans out of you, his gaze locked on your wrecked expression because watching you take his cock was equally as gratifying as sinking himself of you, down to the root. “Say it. Say you want daddy to make a cunt out of you.”

You were falling in love with this animalistic side of John. With the sensations he was supplying and overwhelming you with. Your cock was sure to agree, throttling as if there was a phantom hand stroking its shaft.

“I want—a fucking cunt. Want daddy to make a cunt out of my hole, please—“ You felt deviant, like those words shouldn’t have left your mouth, but it was all the worthwhile because John kissed you hard on the mouth, groaning.

Up to the hilt, John thrusted into faster—harder as you choked back on a moan and nearly gagged on his tongue. “I’m going to fill you up with so much of my cum, you’d be leaking for days.”

“Oh, God—“ You gritted your teeth, exhaling loud and hard because it was coming. Your stomach clenched and your balls tightened without the need of your hand.

“You’d be lucky to walk tomorrow, (M/N). You’d need my help walking you down the stairs. Even then, I wouldn’t be so sure if we’d make it to the floor. Knowing the prospect, I’d just take you right then and there, on the fucking stairwell, making your ass gape once again.”

“John, s-stop—I’m going to—“ Your eyes rolled back until John could only see whites. His words supplied you with the mental picture of the filthy smut coming out of his mouth. It came to you naturally—the smile on your face. You were broken in your state of reverie, dazed by the fantasy of taking John’s cock anywhere and anytime he pleased. Using you however his mind and body desired like he was now. Balls-slapping against your taint, sweat sticking your body to one another, pants and groans loud in your ear, the air thickening with the act of pure lust, pounding into you with no intention in letting you recover your breath. “S-stop, fucking coming—“

“Look at me,” John ordered you, panting.

Your eyes were heavy when you looked up, mere slits from the weight of your desires, heavily drugged by John’s poisoning rapture on your wrecked body. You pressed a smile against his mouth, making no attempt to kiss him, but to simply be in close proximity, pressing his nose against yours. He grappled at your hips, digging your insides with the weight of his large cock, piercing into prostate harder and faster as he took a bargain on your orgasm coming to a near.

You were stunned, the gutting you were enduring from John hitting you like a ton of bricks. You emptied your throat of sounds, the inner walls dry and scratched like the desert. All you managed for John was vigilant whimpers, any more forewarnings were fallen on deaf ears as you’d been knocked into a trance that melted your speech into meek garbles of incoherency.

It only took a few more seconds before your brain rewired itself and had your body floundering within John’s loving embrace, alerting you awake. With the help of John’s cock continuously assaulting deep at your prostate, you felt your body tense up, your hole clenching around pillar John’s pistoning staff to stop him, but he prevailed, breaching through the resistance, and slammed hard into your prostate once more, splitting your ass open and knocking the orgasm out of you.

John held your gaze, marveling over the ecstasy in your otherwise blown-out expression. His brows furrowed in utter fascination as your mouth parted open, only for your moans to adhere to your throat instead, blowing your load in agonizing silence. Thick ropes spurted powerfully out of your throbbing cock, splattering messily over your chest. With the buck of your hips, you graced your face with your cum-shots, additionally provoked as John used the strength of his heels to lift himself to meet you at an elevated height, fucking the cum out of you.

The sound that came out of you was guttural, transporting you into another dimension where you were caught in a whirlpool of toe-curling sensations. Rubbing a hand over your stomach, he could feel it sink in as you liberated yourself from your high, uncontrollably spilling over your pelvis in midst. Yet, despite your dazed state, your eyes never left his, provoking him to come inside of you with desperate, but gentle murmurs on his lips, as well as the addition of the ring of muscle spasming around his shaft.

“Fill my cunt up, make me fucking leak…” You showered his lips in soft whispers, finally releasing your grasp on your legs to stroke at his cheek. Squeezing, caressing, urging—for him to seal your hole.

On the drop of your legs, you squeezed them close together until your knees touched, confining his shaft between the clamp of your inner walls. You clenched hard when he was buried to the root, foiling the pace of his hips, and let your swollen insides bring him closer.

“Oh… shit…” John’s eyes rolled back, and finally spilled with a shudder.

His large cock jerked deep inside of you, and soon, you felt his warm seed fill you to the brim. You felt your bond with John transcend, higher, beyond space and time, with every pulse of his thick veins pumping cum deep into you.

Upon capturing John’s lips for a kiss, he circled his hips, making you moan languidly into his mouth. You swallowed every breath of his, swirling your hips against his own cautious thrusts in retaliation, gratified by the warm, thick coating of cum your insides were receiving, soothing your spellbound hole and stirring his connection to you.

“Didn’t hurt you too bad? Think I slapped you too hard.” John asked softly, gently rubbing a palm over your stricken cheek. You could see guilt in his expression as he brought you closer to claim your lips The moment was soft, the complete opposite of previous events, silent apologies to your mouth as John’s mouth was lingering, yet electrifying all at the same time as he sucked on your lower lip.

“You. Were. Perfect.” You warded off the guilt with a smooch after word, rubbing his chest. “I asked for it, you know that. It was fun, wasn’t it? Something different to spice up the bedroom.”

“Hm…” He laughed at your sudden eagerness, as if you hadn’t been debilitated from his cock moments prior. Tucking one arm behind his head, his other hand idly began petting at your head. He retired for the night with the shut of his eyes, contemplating on their newfound kink. “Let’s see how I feel when you’re the one slapping me next time. Then we can judge it accordingly.”

“Holy shit…”

“Mhm.” “I’m pulling out the dumbbells. Too late to go back on your word now, John.”

“Wait, now that you—“

“Not a single word, or I’m making you call me ‘Doctor’ as an early punishment.”

“We both know how this will turn out. I just need to pull my dick out, and you’ll be back onto your knees, no matter how much you try to resist.”

“I… plead the fifth?”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[pellucid-constellations]

To Feel At Home

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Winnowing out from Under the Mountain, you know you need to find him—it doesn't seem real, to feel so at home.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: A little angsty piece because I can't stop writing for some reason. I hope you enjoy :)

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

On shaking legs, you pressed forward. Rhysand was still at the Moonstone Palace—still in Mor’s arms and coping with the impossible. You had made to stay, but Mor had given you a shake of her head that conveyed more than any words could have.

Mustering up the morsel of power that had returned to you after Amarantha’s death, you winnowed to Velaris. 

Not in a good spot. You hadn’t had access to your power in over five decades and much of Rhysand’s wards were still in place. Given the circumstances, getting yourself to some random alley at the edge of Velaris was a feat. 

The sun was blinding, invading your senses that had gotten so used to the darkness Under the Mountain. You brought a hand up to cover your eyes and trekked on.

No more winnowing. 

You had tried—it hadn’t worked. 

As you walked, stumbling through families taking strolls and having normal days, you searched within you for that golden thread. It had been absent for longer than it had been alive, your time as mates barely reaching a decade before your disappearance. 

You sifted through the pain and grief and loneliness, desperate for the relief you would find once you felt the weight of him. 

Nothing yet. 

He had to know things had changed Under the Mountain. Even amidst the secrecy and the hiding, you knew he would check.  His shadows would cross continents to find you. 

But—you stressed, as you made it to a main road lined with cobblestones—that could mean he went there. Azriel could be under that mountain at this very moment, searching through the fae still sorting out their lives before they went home. 

And you were here. 

You had no reason to panic. 

You were home, safe, alive; you had more reason to feel at peace than you had in the last 50 years. But if Azriel wasn’t here… 

Your breath came out in short pants as your fingers found purchase on a wall. But you kept going, kept watching your feet as they stumbled past each other, just to have the chance of seeing him. 

There were no shadows yet. 

They always found you first. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed—seconds, minutes, hours all lost their meaning under Amarantha—but the shadow of the mountain that held your home was soon cast over your body. You gasped out uneven breaths and pressed a hand to the towering figure, to the entrance that held the ten thousand steps you had every intention of climbing. 

Your body would surely fail. 

The last five decades had not been kind. 

With a determination fueled solely by desperation and hope, you began the tunneled pathway to the harrowing climb, but then you stopped at the entryway. 

A broken rendition of your name met your ears, so cracked and ruined you could have passed it off for something else. 

But you knew that voice, the way the vowels flowed and connected. 

Another broken sound permeated the air, this time from your own lips. 

You couldn’t look. You wanted to, ached to, but you couldn’t. So much anticipation led up to this moment. And you were different now, a fraction of the person you had been all those years ago. 

“Y/n, my love, look at me,” Azriel begged, the lowest you’d ever heard him speak. But you hadn’t heard him speak in so long, so perhaps you were misremembering. “Please.” 

You couldn’t. 

Moving was impossible. 

Your legs began to shake at the sound of footsteps, and then your knees gave out. 

A loud sound vibrated against the tunnel walls as your hands slapped against the floor. On the ground, steps away from the only person who could fix this, your waterline filled with tears. 

But you didn’t have time to second-guess or run or wonder if this was all too much. You were gathered into a strong pair of arms, pressed into a firm chest that smelled like home, and tears made paths down your cheeks. They flowed in damp trails in silence, Azriel holding you closer and closer until you weren’t sure space existed between you. 

His nose pressed into your hair. 

His chest rose and fell in uneven patterns. 

More silence. You felt your body begin to rock gently back and forth. 

This wasn’t real—it couldn’t be. 

You had resigned yourself to never seeing him again many years ago. Even as you ran through the streets of Velaris without your breath or your reasonable mind, you hadn’t expected to find him. This was a dream, Azriel wasn’t here, it was only a cruel play on your mind. 

Someone was trying to hurt you, and it was working. 

Maybe Amarantha had finally gotten Rhys to crack. 

Maybe this was his doing, his manipulation of your deepest hopes. 

Something was moving against your ear, soft and rushed and incoherent. A hand smoothed back your hair. You kept rocking. 

“You’re okay.” Words filtered through ringing. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” 

Over and over. On a loop. 

Something encased you. Darkness followed—you were used to darkness. 

The pattern of the words lulled your heart back to a normal rate. Tears continued to fall. Your breath was shaky. 

“I love you so much,” Azriel broke the repetition, shocking your system. “I love you. I love you—” 

A sob wracked your body, the first real sound to leave your mouth. Azriel shushed you in response, but when he buried his face in your neck you felt the wetness of his own cheeks. 

This had to be real, it had to. There was no other alternative. You wouldn't survive feeling this way just to be thrust back into that nightmare. 

It had to be real, it had to—

“It is,” Azriel choked out. He pulled back, your face in his hands, his expression conveying a picture of pain and love and disbelief. “It’s real, angel. Gods, you’re so beautiful. I never thought I’d—” Words cut off and restarted. “I tried so hard to get to you.” 

His forehead met yours. 

This was real. 

You felt the shadows wisp along your skin. 

You could never feel them in dreams. 

“I missed you,” you croaked, voice so unused to the words. “So much.” 

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut only to open them after not even a breath. Desperate not to lose sight of you. Anguished at the thought of missing the picture of you in his arms. 

“I’ve missed you more.”

[fatal-blow]

actually speaking of that "everything i love causes carpal tunnel" shirt i know! a muscle that causes carpal tunnel-like symptoms!

the bad news is that it's the underside of the shoulder blade, but the good news is that once you figure out how to reach it, it's quite easy to release!

anyways meet the subcapularis

(all images taken from Myofascial Pain and Dysfunction (3rd Edition) by Travell et al)

the subcapularis helps pull the shoulder forward and rotate it inwards, meaning it's involved in many activities which cause the much dreaded carpal tunnel--yes, even though it's nowhere near the wrist. the anatomy of the shoulder makes it easy for nerves and vessels to get compressed, causing all sorts of fun symptoms like pain, tingling, and cold fingers.

this is the referred symptom zone:

obligatory i am not a doctor, just very autistic about musculoskeletal pain, and can't guarantee this massage will help your carpal tunnel symptoms, but I will say that uhhh every time I do this for myself i can feel all blood and sensation rush back into my arm, and it's always best to try massage before more invasive stuff like surgery

--

1. Find a spot where you can sit, feet planted on the ground, and lean forward and rest your head on something with your arm hanging down between your legs. This will slide the shoulder blade to the side of the ribs, where you can reach the underside.

2. Above is what the subcapularis looks like with the surrounding muscles. Using your fingertips (you might wanna cut your nails) or your thumb if preferred, find the bony edge of the shoulder blade, and start poking around the underside.

3. You'll most likely only be able to reach the edge of the muscle, but that's enough! When you press into it, you will probably feel like you're reproducing your symptoms. Don't worry; you aren't hurting yourself and in fact this means you're in the right spot! Massage it gently, enough to feel it but not enough to wince, until you can't find anymore painful spots (or until you feel better, sometimes you can't get it all in one session).

3.5. If your pain increases overall, don't do it. Though pressure should elicit symptoms, this type of massage should provide pretty immediate relief, and if it doesn't then either some other muscle(s) is involved or it's not muscle related at all.

4. Finish up by rolling your shoulder back, like you're stretching out your chest/reaching behind you, a few times. It's normal to hear clicking--good, actually, that's the sound of your body realigning.

5. I recommend doing this at least daily, even after the symptoms have eased, until it's no longer sensitive to massage. Keep in mind that this muscle has been overused, and that the muscles that oppose it have weakened. It will keep trying to tighten up again until the weakened muscles have recovered, so you need to actively treat it and keep an eye out for habits that cause you to roll the shoulder forward.

And that's it! If you intend to resume carpal tunnel inducing activities ASAP, see if you can take a moment every 30 minutes or so to do a quick shoulder stretch. This helps prevent the muscle from tightening, and you only need to spend moments to do so. Quick breaks like this actually go a long way towards preventing injury, and help you keep working without interrupting the flow to go do some body maintenance :P

[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him. 

[kateschi]

through the cold, with you

synopsis: amid the biting cold of patrol, katsuki finds his own way to keep you warm.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: was listening to a song and it went "i would burn my words to warm you up" and i want that kinda devotion tbh

the night air is sharp, biting at your skin as you walk through the quiet streets on patrol. the chill settles into your bones, making your fingers stiff and your nose go numb.

you pull your jacket tighter, but it feels like the cold is winning, no matter what you do.

beside you, katsuki strides ahead, his steps purposeful and his posture as commanding as ever. he doesn’t seem bothered by the weather at all.

you try to shake off the discomfort, but the cold is relentless, seeping through your clothes and making it harder to focus.

you force your steps to keep in line with his, but your movements are slower now. every breath feels like it could be your last.

he doesn’t even notice. or so you think.

another few minutes pass, and you feel your teeth start to chatter.

you glance over at katsuki, his fiery gaze locked straight ahead, his usual scowl firmly in place. h

e’s always been the type to push through anything—cold, pain, exhaustion—and now, it feels like the wind is just another enemy to him.

you, on the other hand, are starting to feel the weight of it all.

just as you’re about to speak up, to mention that you’re starting to freeze, katsuki stops walking without warning. his shoulders tense, and you can hear his breath cut through the air.

you blink in confusion as he turns to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as they sweep over your figure, taking in the subtle signs of discomfort you hadn’t voiced aloud.

“you good?” he asks, voice still rough but softer than usual. his eyes linger on you for a moment, like he’s waiting for you to admit something, to ask for help.

but he doesn’t push.

you hesitate. he’s been protective of you since you first got together, but there’s a difference between that and actually asking for help.

you try to brush it off, giving him a small smile. “yeah, just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”

katsuki eyes you skeptically. “bullshit.”

you don’t have time to react before he steps toward you. before you even realize what’s happening, his hand is reaching for the collar of your coat.

his fingers brush against your skin as he unzips your jacket without a word, then pulls off the heavy scarf wrapped around his neck.

you open your mouth to protest, but before you can say anything, katsuki is already wrapping it around you, tightening it just enough to offer some protection against the cold.

you blink at him, confused. “katsuki, what—”

“shut up,” he mutters, cutting you off. he adjusts the scarf so it fits snugly around your neck, tucking the ends in carefully. “you’re freezing, and I’m not having you catch a cold.”

he steps back, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he assesses his work.

then, without another word, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a thermos—when the hell did he put that in? “here,” he says gruffly, holding it out toward you.

you take it from him, still caught in the bewilderment of what just happened. the warm liquid inside is a welcome relief to your frozen fingers as you take a sip.

katsuki watches you for a moment, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. it’s like he’s silently making sure you’re okay, his watchful eyes never leaving you.

“better?” he asks, his tone a bit soft. there’s something protective in his voice, the kind of thing you never used to hear from him. you take another sip of the drink, nodding.

“yeah, much better. thanks.”

he huffs, his lips twitching in that small, familiar smirk that only you get to see. “you better be, or I’ll drag you back home and shove you under a heater myself.”

you laugh, the sound warmer than it’s been in the last hour. his eyes soften for a second, and for a moment, you swear you catch a flicker of something affectionate in them before it’s gone.

it’s like he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but there’s no mistaking the care he’s showing.

you glance up at him as the silence stretches, a little unsure of what to say next. but he’s already taking a step forward again, his body language a silent invitation for you to follow.

“come on,” he says, his voice commanding as ever. “let’s get this patrol over with.”

you start walking beside him again, feeling the warmth of the scarf wrap around your neck like a promise.

the cold is still there, but it’s manageable now. it’s bearable. and, somehow, his presence seems to push it away, too.

you can feel the heat from his side, the way his body radiates strength, and the knowledge that he’s always looking out for you, even when he doesn’t say it out loud.

as you walk beside him, you try to ignore the soft smile that’s tugging at the corners of your lips.

he might act like he doesn’t care much for these things—gestures of affection, quiet acts of love—but he shows it in his own way. and, in the end, that’s all that matters.

katsuki steps forward again, his arm sliding around your waist and pulling you into his chest with surprising force.

“stop shivering, damn it,” he mutters, the rough edge in his voice doing nothing to hide the concern underneath. his body heat surrounds you as he keeps you pressed close, his hand firm against your back.

you stiffen for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the sudden proximity, but his warmth is undeniable. your body relaxes against his, letting the heat from him seep into you.

there’s something comforting in the way he holds you, like he’s willing to bear all the cold, so you don’t have to.

you tilt your head up slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, which is softer than usual. his face is still serious, but you can see the care in his eyes, the way he’s watching you closely.

for a second, the two of you just stand there, his arms wrapped around you, your body pressed against his.

“and—uh you’re welcome,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

his gaze softens, just slightly, before he turns back and starts walking again, already heading toward the next stretch of their patrol.

a grin makes its way up your face, and it makes your husband blush furiously and press a firm kiss on the top of your head. he is trying to hide—you know that much.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize