#Car removal in Black Hill

[williamssmith01]

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[5bcarremoval]

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[fairene]

do it for you / ln4 sneak peek

established r. lando norris x f!reader

warning ⋯ language, 18++ mentioning,minors dni.

a/n ⋯ do it for you is a recent ask that i got that absolutely transitions into the lando!dad series that i've been wanting to create. of course, all of these 'oneshots' can be read separately, but can also fall into a canonical storyline. also--- holy shit!! grace isn't dead!! yes, i know!!! i'm just as shocked as you guys are. but i can feel some groove coming back, but this probably won't be posted fully until the following week. hoping to get it to about 5-6k words before posting!

wc ⋯ 720

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 

and a good one at that. 

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. 

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 

“wore it for you.” 

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door.

taglist ⋯

@landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

comment to be added!

[babygorewhore]

His Doll

Continuing this blurb of Rafe Cameron falling for a goth girl. Opposites attract, right?

This wasn’t a request but I got a really good response when I wrote my blurb so I extended it! This is self indulgent but also hot and steamy!! Warnings! Blow job and unprotected sex! @xxbutdaddyilovehimxx helped me out on this!

“Look at little Tim Burton over there,” Rafe smirks at Topper when he sees you loitering at one of the expensive stores in Tanny Hill. You were completely out of place in the Outer banks. All black clothes, thick combat boots and dark makeup.

Rafe was prepared to approach you but he found himself a little nervous. Why was he nervous? You were some weird goth chick in a state where everyone wore bright colors and sandals. Why shouldn’t he go over there and mess with you? He had heard about goth chicks being freaks. That was it. That was all it was.

Until he found himself slipping beside you ten minutes later, selecting a black t-shirt much to Topper's surprise and side glances. He made sure you looked at him as he bought it. He wasn’t one to be intimidated by girls, he was used to them. Used to getting whatever he wanted until now. But you didn’t fawn over him as he watched you wander around the boardwalk a few days later.

“She must be new.” He muttered to himself. Why else would she not pay him attention? Rafe found her instagram later that night and saw she listed her Spotify. He started listening and cringed at the volume. He wasn't able to understand the lyrics at first but as the minutes went on…it was actually a little catchy.

When he worked out, Topper and Kelce looked at him like he was an alien as he blasted the music through his headphones as he worked out. “Bro, she’s got you pussy whipped.” Kelce smacked him on the shoulder and Rafe glared.

“Shut the fuck up.”

It was a mantra Rafe repeated when he finally went up to you after a week. You were…having a picnic in the middle of an empty park on a gloomy day with a big smile on your face as you wrote something in a notebook. He wore a black shirt with dark jeans, a really poor attempt to have some sort of common ground with you.

“Hey,” He cleared his throat and you removed your headphones, looking up at him with a surprisingly polite smile.

“Hi! Can I help you?” Your voice was soft. A little sweet and his cock twitched. Mmm. A good girl underneath all that darkness.

You were looking up at him from sitting at your table and he almost moaned the vision of what his future would look like with that black lipstick smeared all over his cock.

“Seen you around. I’m having a little fun tonight with some friends.” You quirked an eyebrow and he briefly wondered if he said the wrong thing.

“You’re inviting me to a party? Rafe Cameron himself?” He was stunned you knew his name before you gave him a little teasing smirk.

“I know who you are. Your royalty on this hell island.” Then you laughed. It was a bursting sound that almost made him smile. Something about the giddy way you expressed yourself made him feel even more attracted to you.

“Yeah. I can take you to my house early. We can leave anytime. I can bring you home whenever you wanna leave. You know, sacrifice to Satan or whatever.”

“You know, not all goths are satanists.” You replied and he lowered himself a little.

“Yeah? Come on. Prove me wrong, witchy girl.”

He almost didn’t expect you to accept but then he was driving to his house while your legs were crossed in his car. You were silent but not in a rude way. You were admiring the scene.

Rafe decided to collect this in his mind. You liked watching the outside. You enjoyed simpler things. Interesting. When he arrived at the party, people were already there and enjoying themselves, watched over by topper. Barry spotted him as Rafe walked you inside his penthouse booming with music but you paused.

“Is this…deftones?” You asked him and Rafe smirked.

“Yeah. They’re great. Perfect for a party near the beach.” You gave him a laugh as Barry approached him with a handshake.

“Hey country club, the fuck you doin in that shirt? Tryna impress the lady guest?” Rafe slung an arm over your shoulder, feeling the pattern of your shirt with his fingers.

“Are you impressed?” He looked down at you and you nodded.

“I am actually. Did you hack into my Spotify or something?” Rafe paused before he saw the smile on your face and he leaned down.

“Mhm. You like that, huh? Come on. Show me what you got.”

That’s when he found himself in his bedroom, with you on your knees. Black lipstick mixed with his cum as he fucked your throat. He moans as he thrusts into your soft mouth, his hand buried in your hair locked with hairspray and your eyes leaking with tears that make your makeup run down your cheeks.

“Pretty little witchy girl.” He grunts as he continues his movements and his cum spills all over you.

Witchy girl is one of his favorite nicknames he uses for you. But another one is monster high doll or vampire Barbie. You’re his little dark angel as he watches YouTube videos while you’re asleep on his bed late at night. He has watched in awe of your removal of your makeup. But you were still so beautiful. You didn’t need it but he wouldn’t risk the wrath of Satan if he spoke it.

He watched different content on different types of goths. Now that he had you, he had to keep you while you hung out with your…interesting friends today as he sat with you, hand on your upper thigh as you happily talked about topics he never considered to be beautiful or something to notice. The night sky. Full moon. Art. Music. Even horror movies started to become apart of his life. Even though it wasn’t his favorite, his little doll loved it and who was he to not keep her happy?

But something he loved doing most was surprising you with a gift. You didn’t grow up like he did. Into privilege. You told him that you shopped usually at second hand stores and he almost fainted.

So, he looked up the best pair of platform black boots and got them for you. Gift giving was easy for him but seeing your big smile and the way you screamed made it his favorite thing to see. Then you insisted you couldn’t accept.

Rafe decided what sort of payment he would take.

He spread you open on his bed, ripping off your favorite pair of lace panties that he promised to buy more of as your dripping pussy glistened for him as he kneeled, running the tip of his dick along your slick swollen clit. “Not so scary anymore, huh?” He said as he pushed inside to the hilt, balls slapping against you.

“God…” You whined as he thrusted harder and deeper, his hands holding his weight above you while your legs were hooked around his waist.

“Not god, doll. Me.” He growled and lightly slapped your face. “Remember that. Remember who owns you.”

Rafe wouldn’t trade his little witch girl for anything.

Or the way her eyeliner runs like a fucking porn star.

@marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @xxhellfirebunnyxx @redhead1180

[strniohoeee]

Amorous

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader ⚠️SMUT⚠️

Synopsis: Chris and Y/N never have alone time, so they decided to go for night drive, and take a pit stop🤫

Warnings⚠️: this is smut based on my request I just got! It’s obvious there’s sex, but it’s nothing intense. It’s pretty short imagine too🫶🏽

Song for the imagine: Wus good/Curious-PARTYNEXTDOOR

⚠️This is a 18+ imagine so minors DO NOT INTERACT⚠️

Chris and I had been dating for about a year now, and we loved spending time together going on dates, shopping, watching movies together, laughing and overall just enjoying each other's company. However he did live with his brothers, so they would usually join us on certain things like movies and games.

Although Chris had the downstairs room it still made it insanely impossible for us to have true alone time. Matt and Nick always wanted to sleep in his room, or stay with us watching movies till 3am. We loved them dearly, but sometimes Chris and I really needed alone time, and by that I mean we really needed to have sex

The last time we actually had decent sex was a good two months ago, and it was decent because as soon as we finished Matt came barging in the room looking for something of his he left the night prior. So it 100% ruined any lasting mood we might’ve had.

The most we have been able to do in the past two months was over the clothes stuff, and 10 minute quickies in the shower, but we were yearning for some dirty intense love making.

Chris had asked me if I wanted to take a drive with him. Honestly I wanted to stay home, but I know what he wanted, and I knew Nick and Matt would be home soon, so I agreed.

It was 9pm when he decided to take us for a “drive”

“Where are we headed baby?” I asked him as I shuffled his music library

“I’m thinking that little secluded area up on that hill” he said looking over at me

“Ahhh yesss where everyone goes to fuck” I said laughing

He sucks his teeth and looks at me “babe”

“Sorry! I’m serious though. Are you taking me there to fuck?” I said wiggling my brows

“I mean…..we can’t get more than 10 minutes alone, and I really need to fuck the shit out of you” he said glancing over at me

“True. I’ve been needing this too” I said kissing his hand that I was holding

We had gotten up to the hillside, and surprisingly there were no cars, and it was pitch black. All we could see were the city lights overhead

Chris had put the car in park, and turned the outside lights off, so it was extra dark, but he turned the lights on, on the inside.

“You looks so good right now” I told him as the warm light reflected off his facial structure and his blue eyes

“Oh yeah?” He said in a smug way

“Let’s go to the back,” I said. We got out of the car and opened up the back doors, putting down the seats in the van.

We both hopped back into the car, and immediately Chris pulled me down into him to kiss him. As we were kissing Wus good by PARTYNEXTDOOR started playing

“Look at that! It’s a sign” he said with a goofy smile

“You’re so corny” I said before going back to kissing him, he started to kiss down to my jawline and neck peppering light kisses. We slowly started to remove our clothes

I started palming Chris’ dick, but he grabbed my hand and stopped me

“Although this feels so fucking good. I’m trying to cum from fucking you, so please no more with the hands” he said laughing

“Sorry baby I can’t help myself” I said kissing him again

“Want me to fuck you, or you wanna ride” he asked? Massaging my boob

“Can I ride” I asked moaning as he’s groping my breasts

“Fuck yeah” he said. I didn’t need much foreplay because I was so dick deprived just looking at Chris had me wet

I hovered over his cock, and he helped me align himself to my entrance, and slowly I started to sink down onto him. My mouth falling slack at the stretch

“Fuck Chris I forgot how big you are” I said as I bottomed out

“Don’t boost my ego baby” he said, grabbing my chin and pulling me in for a kiss. I began to bounce on his dick immediately moaning at how good this felt

“Chris you don’t know how badly I needed this” I said as I continued to bounce on his dick

“Fuck Y/N use me. Milk me of all my cum please baby” he said running his hands up my sides and gripping my breasts

“Oh fuck” I said throwing my head back

I started to clench down On Chris, and he let out a whine that sent shivers down my spine

“Whine like that again, and I swear I’ll fucking cum so hard” I said looking down at him. He had both his hands behind his head propping his head up a little bit.

“Fuck if it means I get to see your beautiful face as you cum all over me I’ll keep doing it” He said biting his lip

I moaned at this and started grinding against him. My clit hitting his pelvic bone in a delicious manner. I continued to clench down on him as I grinded against him. His dick pounding against my g spot

“Chris im gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, can I please cum” I asked grinding faster

“Yes baby cum, cum for me please cum all over my cock” he said in such a raspy voice, and with that I was cumming all over his cock. Shaking and falling limp down on him.

Chris grabbed my ass and pounded up into me chasing his release, and this made me moan from the over stimulation, and hearing Chris’ grunting in my ear

“I think I’m going to cum again” I said sobbing into his neck

With that Chris came in me whining and moaning and shaking, and seconds later I came on his dick for a second time a mixture of our cum running down his dick

“That was so well needed” he said kissing me as we came down from our highs

“Oh god yes. I don’t know how I lasted that long” I said slowly starting to sit up, so I could get off of him

“Me neither, I needed that badly” he said as I got off of him searching for something to clean us up with

“Oh Matt left napkins in the glovebox” he said, and I reached over grabbing napkins to clean ourselves off with

After cleaning ourselves off we got back into our clothes and fixed the back seats. Chris threw the napkins on the floor outside

“Chris don’t litter” I said getting back into the car

“Oh yeah let me carry around a cum covered tissue to properly dispose of it” he said sarcastically

“Oh shut the fuck up” I said smacking him on his arm

As we got situated and he turned the car lights back on he got a call from Nick

“Sup bro” he said as he put the car into reverse

“Where the fuck yall went we have a car video to film” Nick said

“Oh shit my bad I didn’t realize the time. Y/N and I went out to eat and then went to see a movie” he said lying straight out his ass

“Yeah well it’s 12pm get home so we can film” Matt said from a distance

“Alright we should be back in 20. Be ready to hop in so we can film” they replied with okay, and he hung up

“Chris they’re going to know we fucked” I said laughing

“No they will not! We cleaned everything up” he said grabbing my hand

“Yeah let’s hope” I said blushing

After 20 minutes we arrived at their house, and he reached out to his brothers saying he was ready to pick them up. They got to the car, and hopped in the back seat.

“Y/N I MISSED YOUU” Nick said all giddy

“I missed you too Nick” I said laughing at him

Matt got in the car, but squinted his eyes before saying anything

“It smells like sex in here” Matt said looking at both Chris and I

“What the fuck you saying kid” Chris said

“It smells like sweaty hot sex” he said laughing, and Chris reached back to smack his brother

“Shut the fuck up” Chris said

“Omg omg wait yall fucked in here” Nick said getting loud, I slightly nodded at him

“OH MY GOD YALL FUCKED IN HERE AND I JUST SAT IN HERE AND PUT MY SNACK DOWN IN THE AREA YALL FUCKED IN?? IM SICK” Nick said screaming and thrashing around

“Nick shut the fuck up and calm down” Chris said getting annoyed

“CALM DOWN I DONT WANT TO SIT WHERE YALL FUCKED” he said pretending to cry

“Grow up” Matt said laughing at him

After 10 more minutes of that. They decided to finally drive to a location and film their YouTube video. Nick is ever so often being reminded of what just went on an hour prior.

And all Chris can do is give Y/N small smiles and flirty smirks here and there.

The End

For the person who requested this I HOPE it was good😭😭 as of right now my requests are still open. I’m currently working on Matt imagine, and then I have to work on a friendship imagine again🤭🤭

-J💅🏽

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pairing: Bucky x reader (No gender mentioned, but reader does wear a dress)

Words: 1.6k

Summary: You and Bucky are forced to work on Halloween and even when cosplaying as lovers you only seem to bicker.

Warnings: it gets just a lil goofy. If you’re not down to clown kindly exit my circus. Reader is a bit of a hellion. No use of y/n. Not that much plot rip. Lemme know if I missed something.

A/N: Started this last year but didn’t finish it in time. Originally this was like 70% different but then I had to scrap a bunch of stuff and now it’s this I guess.

Dividers by: ME :) pls enjoy

“Who am I supposed to be?” Bucky asked. 

“You’re kidding, right?”

He lamely gestured to the outfit. “A pirate?” 

“You’re Westley!” 

“What’s a Wesley?”

“No, West-ley!” You handed him the final piece of the costume. “From The Princess Bride!”

Bucky eyed the black mask skeptically and quickly tied it around his head.

“And you’re the Princess Bride?”

“In fact I am. I’m Buttercup!” You watched the scarlet dress twirl behind you in the full length mirror.

“Her name is Buttercup?” 

“I’m not appreciating the judgement in your tone. It was either this, or eggs and bacon. Would you like to be bacon?”

“This is fine.” 

“That’s what I thought.” You studied your costumes and scoffed. “I mean you’re practically wearing what you wear anyways. All black. Except instead of a gun you have a sword and you get a cute little bandana to wear on your head.”

You made the perfect couple. Bucky looked dashing as always in his pirate getup, and your smile rivaled the shine of your gold tiara. 

Neither of you thought you’d be spending the holiday with each other, but duty called. Your mission? To infiltrate a rich kid’s Halloween party and snap some photos of his gazillionaire father’s files. Why? Boring shit, bad guy did bad thing, yadda, yadda.  

You pulled up to the English country manor in one of Tony’s convertibles and gaped at the view. The large house sat upon a hill and was framed by flourishing gardens, illuminated only by the inside lights. You could hardly imagine how green and lush they looked in the daytime. 

“Are we clear on the plan?” Bucky asked as he opened your car door for you.

“Yes. Enter the party dressed in costumes,” You took the gloved hand he offered and stepped out.

“Locate the main office. I’ll be watching your back.” Bucky continued, the two of you starting your journey to the entrance.

“I pick the lock,” you nodded as you looped your arm with his.

“You’ll grab pictures of the files,”

“And then we’ll go back to the ground floor and party.”

Bucky stopped so suddenly that you went lurching backwards.

“That is not the plan.” 

“I’m officially adding it to the plan.” You said, removing your arm from his and continuing to walk.

“You can’t do that,” he grumbled, hand shooting out to grab yours before you could get too far.

“C’mon Buck!” You turned around to face him. “When was the last time you went to a Halloween party?”

“I don’t know.”

You stepped closer to him and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“We deserve to have a little fun if we are forced to work on Halloween. Besides, I thought we were spies. You really think our chances of getting caught drastically increase if we hang around for a bit? You think we are that bad at our jobs?”

“But—”

“Fine,” you smirked, “we party first. Blend in. Then we get to business.”

His black mask only amplified his unamused glare.

“Ugh. Okay, we’ll play it by ear. Agreed?”

“Fine.” 

Unfortunately for you, there was very little partying to be done. Bucky gave you five minutes amongst the flood of witches, ghosts, cowboys, and angels before dragging you off to the west wing of the estate. 

You followed the large hall to a set of stairs, and ascended to the second floor. 

“I think this place used to be a castle,” you whispered, eyeing the strange suits of armour lining the hall.

“Focus.” Bucky said, five paces in front of you.

You skipped ahead and spun to face him, “I’m the most focused person in the world right now.”

You continued to skip backwards all the way down the hall until you reached the study doors. 

“All right,” you smiled after picking the lock with a single bobby pin, “be a good watch dog for me.”

Bucky grumbled, but you shut the doors behind you too quick for him to lodge an official complaint.

The study was as elegant as to be expected with a house such as this. The glass balcony doors in the back of the room stretched all the way up to the coffered ceiling, and towering bookshelves stacked with ancient spines lined the walls, but what caught your attention was the mahogany desk in the middle of it all. 

You made your way behind the desk and promptly began opening the drawers. 

It didn’t take long to find what you needed. 

Just as you snapped photos of the the final file, Bucky came bursting in and locking the door behind him. 

In the time it took him to warn “He’s coming, we have to go,” he had made it across the room to the balcony doors, wrenching them open, and dragging you with him. 

The exact same moment you shut the door came the creaking of the study entrance. Bucky yanked you away from the window and into his chest as he pressed his back against the stone wall.

“That was close,” / “Stop manhandling me—” you said at the same time.

“Manhandling?” Bucky whispered harshly into your ear, releasing your waist. “If that means saving your ass, then—”

“I can cover my own ass.”

“Is it really so hard for you to say thank you?”

“I can cover my own ass, thank you.”

“Do you want us to get caught?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“I don’t think it is when you keep acting like this.”

“I’m not acting like anything.”

“Oh my g—”

“Keep your voice down or he’s going to hear us, stupid,” you shoved your palm against his mouth.

He squeezed your wrist and yanked it away from his mouth.

“Don’t you fucking ever do that again.” He snarled.

He caught your smirk and the twitch of your hand and pushed you away before you could shush him again.

“What did I just say? Why can’t you just listen to me?”

“I listen to you.”

“If you listened to me you would leave me alone.”

“Is that right?” You asked, a glimmer in your eye.

“Yes.”

“As you wish,” you said, and backed up against the balcony railing.

“What—” he began, but you were already hurling yourself over the ledge.

Bucky ran to grab you but could only look on in horror as you catapulted a full story to the lawn below. Instead of stopping where you fell, the steep hill sent you tumbling further away.

Bucky cursed as he launched himself after you, hitting the ground with a harsh thud, and rolling after you in stupor.

A chorus of grunts and oomphs echoed into the still night as the two of you tumbled down the ridiculously long hill. 

Rolling,

Rolling,

Rolling,

Bucky finally reached you at the bottom after what felt like minutes of nauseating turning. It took him only a moment to hoist himself up and run over to you, motionless on your stomach.

“Are you okay? Please, please,” he kneeled by your side and anxiously rolled you onto your back. “Look at me,”

“I’ve got grass in my mouth.” You mumbled, peaking an eye open at the dishelved man above you. His bandana was missing and his v-neck was ripped a little wider from the fall. Not to mention the literal dirt on his cheeks.

Bucky flashed a quick look of relief before turning red. He stood up and ripped the mask from his face. He furiously threw it to the ground and began to storm off.

“Where are you going?” You called, struggling to get up.

He halted. You watched in curiosity and unease as he balled his fists. He relaxed them, and tightened them again as he whirled around to face you.

“What were you thinking?”

“I was just doing as you asked,” you shrugged nonchalantly, steadily sitting up.

“I didn’t mean to throw yourself from the balcony! You could’ve really hurt yourself,”

“You didn’t have to come after me. You could’ve really hurt yourself, too.”

“Yes, but my body is made to withstand that kind of fall, yours isn’t.”

“I’m not w–”

“I know you’re not weak! Do you really think I’m calling you weak, or are you just arguing to argue?” 

You looked down at your muddied shoes and mumbled something.

“What?”

“I said,” you began, but the rest of your words were incomprehensible. 

“I can’t hear you,” 

“I said!” You swung your gaze up from the ground, “I don’t know how to talk to you! Okay?” 

“What are you even talking about?”

“You only seem interested in talking to me when we are arguing. Otherwise you act like you hardly know me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? When was the last time you started a conversation with me that wasn’t work related or related to something I had done to piss you off?”

“...”

“Exactly.”

“What,” he scoffed, “so you decide to throw yourself off a balcony?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to act like you care about me,” you said. 

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I never said it was reasonable.”

“So if I tell you I care about you, you'll stop fighting me on everything?”

“Bucky, stop,” you groaned.

“No, I’m serious. Is that what it takes?”

“It doesn’t work like that. You can’t just say you care about me because I want you to. Then you’re just saying it to placate me.”

He sighed. 

He turned around and scanned the grass. A moment later he was picking up his mask and brushing off the dirt before retying it around his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on,” was all he said.

You followed him back up the hill as he led you to the back entrance of the party.

“Where are we going? I thought we are leaving.”

“You said you wanted to enjoy the party, didn’t you?”

“But—”

“You have thirty minutes. Okay?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why do you think?”

You softly smiled. “Thank you, Bucky.”

Before he could respond, you had placed a quick kiss to his cheek and ran off into the crowd.

“As you wish.” He mumbled, fingers grazing lightly over the spot you had kissed.

A/N: If you made it to the end thank you so much. Please let me know if you liked it. I have anon on for my inbox if you're shy or if you ever have an ask :)

[polo-drone-016]

The Urn

On a scorching greek day, Daniel was hiking in his gold jersey and shorts. Leather boots on his feet, he was exploring the hills around Mycenae.

He heard from the locals that the view from the top of a particular hill was stunning, so he had set up early that day to explore the area.

After leaving the car, he had started the hike, and after three hours, covered in sweat, he had made it to the top of the hill.

The views were indeed stunning, but very soon, something in the distance attracted his attention. There was definitely something over there, glistening.

He started walking towards the object and found a gold coin lying on the ground. It seemed strangely familiar, so he bent down and tried to pick it up, but his hand passed right through it.

He would have tried again, but suddenly, the ground caved in under his feet.

He fell into the darkness and hit the ground some ten meters below.

Pain brought him back.

“Fuck, I’ve broken my arm”.

As his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, he could see that he was in some sort of a tomb.

The paintings on the wall depicted some men dressed in gold and some dressed in a shiny black material.

He stood slowly, his arm sending electric shocks throughout his body and started looking around.

“There must be an entrance somewhere”

He took a sock off and wrapped it around a piece of wood. He then grabbed his lighter and set the sock on fire.

“It’s not going to burn for long, better hurry up…”

He was in a round chamber, without any opening except the one he had come through. In the middle of the room, an urn stood on top of a round column.

He approached the column and saw that there was only one word written on the urn.

“Andronos”.

The light went off. Surprised, Daniel moved, and his broken arm hit the urn.

“Fuuuuuuuck”.

He fell to the ground and heard the urn shattering on the ground next to him.

He tried to remove his other sock, but as he was feeling around, he started to feel something creeping on his arm. Something almost liquid. Something cold. Something warm. Something alive that was quickly expanding until his entire torso was feeling colder, then warmer.

In the dark, deafening silence of the tomb, he heard a vibrant voice. A voice coming from within his head.

“Finally free…”.

Daniel passed out.

Ready to serve, to become part of something greater? Join the Golden Army. Whether you take the path of a player bro or embrace the hive as a drone, there's a place for you here. Reach out to @polo-drone-009, @brodygold or @hades-golden19 to start your transformation. Find your purpose, commit to the gold, and let the team shape you. 💛

[molly-ghuleh]

Camellia: Copia x f!reader - Chapter 1

Camellia: n. - A flower which symbolizes a deep desire or longing.

Summary: You are a translator for the Ministry. You receive a letter summoning you to the Abbey for a project involving an ancient diary with a mysterious author, but you find yourself wishing you were back home. That is, until you meet the charming Papa Emeritus the Fourth.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: Hi all!! This is the first long-form fic I've ever written and decided to publish, so I hope you all enjoy!! The first chapter is mostly setup and scene building, so not a lot of interaction with our beloved Copia. But there will be more, I promise!!

Warnings: none for now but there will be some in later chapters.

AO3 Link

Prologue

“Will you help me move this box?” the Brother of Sin says. 

Wordlessly, the Sister of Sin stops what she’s doing and maneuvers through the crowded, dusty basement room to help the Brother. The two crouch down, bracing their hands against the box of books. It leaves behind a path carved into the layers of dust as it slides across the wooden floor. 

Once the box is pushed a few feet out of the way, the Sister lets go and, losing her balance, falls to her hands and knees from the crouching position. She cries out in surprise when her hand sinks through the floorboards as one of the slats gives way. The hole is only a few inches deep and filled with dirt and cobwebs, but the Sister’s hand falls onto something softer than wood. 

She lifts her hand to find that there’s a small leather-bound volume hidden face-down in the small crevice. The Sister can hardly imagine how long it has been there, with how thick the grime lies on the back cover. 

This room of the Abbey’s basement had been long forgotten, until Sister Imperator tasked these Siblings of Sin to clear out the room to make way for new storage. They had half expected to find a ruby-encrusted sarcophagus in the room, with how ancient and opulent the Abbey is. So far the only things of interest they have found are books—it seems that the only items stored in the room are books. 

The Sister gently removes the book from the hole in the floor and replaces the wooden slat. Even through her gloves she can tell that it is close to disintegrating. The distinct orange of rotten leather lines the edges of its binding and a few corners of pages fall to the ground. 

“What’s that?” The Brother asks. 

The Sister carefully turns the volume over so that she can read the front cover. It, too, is covered in dust, so she gently brushes it with her hand in order to read the embossed leather cover. Having been face-down in the crevice, the gold leaf illuminating the embossment is preserved and it shines in the low light of the basement. 

“It says…” the Sister squints to read the small letters, “...Elizabeth.” 

“Elizabeth? Who’s Elizabeth?” 

The Sister turns over the book once more. “I don’t know, just… Elizabeth.”

Chapter 1

The ride from the airport to the Abbey is a long one. The car you had been picked up in took you through the city and the suburbs, to the rural outskirts of civilization where the coniferous trees block much of the sunlight. The winding roads, dotted in late-afternoon sunbeams, feel endless as the car climbs into the hills. It’s been a silent ride, and rather awkward (at least, you feel that it’s been awkward) because the helmeted ghoul who drives the sleek black sedan has not said a word. 

You knew that the Abbey has ghouls. A few abbeys do, as they are big enough to warrant summoning help, but your home chapter is not. This is the first time you’ve met one. 

You wonder if they’re all so stoic, or if the driver simply doesn’t have anything to say. He isn’t impolite, but you wish he would say something, anything to make the drive a little more bearable. You want to ask him about the Abbey–what the Siblings are like, what Papa is like. How many Siblings live there full time? How big is the library? You’ve heard that the ghost of a former Papa haunts the corridors, is that true? Hundreds of questions brew in your mind, but the ghoul remains silent and you’re left feeling like an unwelcome guest in a strange country.

You already miss home. 

The Marseille abbey, your home for the better part of your adult life, is a medieval stone structure built on a hilltop south of the Marseille city proper. The ornate, stained-glass windows of its chapel face west over the Mediterranean so that the sunset streams into the room during Black Mass. The walls are old and drafty, and keep faded tapestries in a constant state of fluttering. The linens line the walls of the refectory in between tall, narrow windows which also overlook the sea. If it were not for the inverted crosses and scenes of the unjust fall of Lucifer, one might think the atmosphere in the chapel—and the rest of the small abbey—is almost holy.

The windows in the Sibling dormitories are small and south-facing, with deep stone sills and wood frames that have somehow managed to survive the ages (although they hardly open without a fight.) Your own dormitory windowsill is lined with personal prayer books. Each has about a hundred loose papers sticking out. They are your translation practice, your way of staying versed in every language you know, because you know the prayers by heart at this point. The papers are experiments: which language makes the prayer sound better, sound prettier? Which language makes the most sense? Which language makes the prayers the shortest, the longest? 

No matter which language you use, to you the prayers sound the most beautiful in your mother tongue. That is how you’d memorized them, after all. Yet… you wish there had been room in your single suitcase to take your prayer books with you. 

“We’re almost there,” the ghoul says, snapping you out of your homesick reverie. His voice is deep and softer than you’d expected. There’s no spurt of hellfire from his mouth as you’d half-thought there would be, and no low rumble in his words that might signify he’s more beast than man. The ghoul, despite his bug-eyed mask, seems shockingly human. 

He steers the car through tall wrought-iron gates which seem to open automatically. You can see the tall peak of the Abbey’s bell tower peeking through the trees, and suddenly the reality that you’re very, very far from home hits you. 

You unfold the crinkled envelope in your hands and reread the letter for the hundredth time that day. 

Dear Sister, 

I hope this letter finds you well. 

We at the Abbey have recently uncovered a very important document which we require your expertise to translate. However, this document is extremely fragile and cannot be transported in the post. Papa Emeritus IV and the rest of the Clergy request your presence at the Abbey as soon as possible. 

We expect this project to take several months. Enclosed is a one-way ticket for you to travel to the airport closest to us, from which a car will transport you to the Abbey. We will discuss plans for your return to Marseille when you are nearing the end of your work here.

We anxiously await your arrival. 

Sincerely, 

Sister Imperator

The letter itself is quite presumptuous. Sister Imperator had assumed you were not busy, and assumed that you would be able to drop everything and travel halfway across the world for a months-long project. And then to use Papa’s name to exaggerate the importance of this mysterious document which she hadn’t even disclosed the nature of? 

Well… you can’t exactly say no to the woman who practically runs the Ministry’s affairs. 

The car takes a bend in the Abbey’s endless driveway and emerges into a clearing. Sitting far back on a sprawling lawn is a massive, imposing stone structure. The rows of trimmed hedges and flower bushes do little to soften the gothic hardness of it. Two pointed bell towers loom over the steep roof of what must be the chapel, with stained glass windows stretching up at least two storeys. The central image is of Baphomet, in his iconographic pose. The setting sun glints off of his golden halo. Sweet Satan, you think, your eyes tracking the window as the car rounds the drive. Baphomet alone must be taller than the entire height of Marseille. 

The ghoul pulls the car to a stop in front of the wide steps leading up to wooden double doors. A woman stands there, her hands clasped in front of her and her back straight, like the matron of this grand palace. You suppose she is–the severity of her expression alone leads you to believe that it’s Sister Imperator who waits for you.

You step out into the chilly air and shut the car door behind yourself. The ghoul already has your suitcase in hand and gestures for you to walk up the stairs before him. You wish he’d let you carry your own suitcase, if only to give your hands something to do, but you are far too stunned to ask. Climbing the shallow stone steps feels like stepping into another world. A world in which you feel far too plain to exist. 

“Sister,” The woman greets with a smile. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which squint at you beneath slightly furrowed, well-groomed brows. She strikes you as someone who is all business, all the time. “How was your journey?” 

You return her smile as best you can. She speaks to you like you don’t understand English. “It went well, your dark eminence.” 

She seems a little surprised that you respond so fluently, but she quickly fixes her face into another warm grin. “I am glad to hear it,” she says. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m sure you must understand that this document is very important, and quite fragile. We would not risk losing it in the post.” “Of course,” you nod. “If I may ask, Sister Imperator, what is this document? You did not disclose it in your letter.” You gesture to the envelope safely stored in your jacket pocket. 

Sister Imperator turns to step inside the slightly ajar wooden door and you assume she wants you to follow. The ghoul accompanies you over the threshold, but at the wave of a hand from Sister Imperator, he turns down a narrow corridor with your suitcase and disappears around a corner. 

You are still a bit too overwhelmed to thank him. Instead, you look at the woman beside you. “The ghoul will bring your luggage to a room we have prepared for your stay,” she explains at your silent question.

She continues down the main hall, deeper into the Abbey. Your footsteps echo through the atrium, bouncing up to the high, painted ceilings and off the stone walls. There are a few wooden benches pushed back against the wall, with pots of surprisingly lush houseplants on either side. Framed oil paintings line the walls: some depicting biblical scenes, some of landscapes, and a few large, dignified portraits. You can tell by the distinct Papal paints in each portrait that the subject is a Papa, and you wonder which one depicts Papa Emeritus IV. You’ve never seen an image of His Unholiness before. 

After a few moments of silence, Sister Imperator speaks again. “We found the document last month, in one of the storage rooms in the Abbey’s basement.” She likes to use the royal ‘we’ a lot, you think. 

She continues. “One of our archivists believes that it is at least five hundred years old. It is very fragile, you see, and so we ask that you handle it with the utmost care as you work with it. We would prefer it if you used gloves. And frankly, Sister, I believe that you would want to. The leather is fairly rotten.” You stay silent as you follow slightly behind her. You’ve worked with old, rotten books before. The pages nearly crumble apart in your hands and the leather splits easily, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. 

“We believe it is a journal—a diary, rather, of someone very important in the Ministry’s history.” You find it strange that she doesn’t immediately disclose whose diary it might be. “Who, if I may ask?” “Elizabeth.” Sister Imperator’s voice is clipped as she answers you. She gives no further explanation. Just Elizabeth. 

There are millions of women named Elizabeth in the world. It is very likely that there is more than one important Elizabeth in the Ministry’s history as well. It’s a fairly common name, especially five hundred years ago (if the archivist is correct). For all you know, this document could be some random Sister’s sexual logbook, and documenting her sinful indulgences was her way of praying to the Lord Below. 

You break out of your ponderance over possibilities when Sister Imperator turns a corner to walk down another, slightly narrower (but still wide) corridor. She speaks again. “The book is to be kept in a lockbox at all times when you are not working with it. Under no circumstances is it to be removed from the Abbey library without my express permission, or the permission of Papa. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, Sister,” you answer hastily. Her tone of voice as she lays down the law makes you feel as though you’ve already made a mistake. 

“Now. The reason we need you, Sister, is because none of our own archivists or translators can figure out what language the journal is written in.” 

This piques your interest, and also slightly flatters you. “What do you mean?” you ask.

She releases a long-suffering sigh. “The writing is jumbled. It is a mess of letters and sometimes numbers, with no spaces whatsoever.” 

The possibilities immediately start to stack in your mind. Latin from the Roman era tended not to use spaces, a practice called ‘scriptio continua’. Ancient Greek also did this… but wouldn’t the in-house translators be able to read it? 

“I cannot explain it well enough,” Sister Imperator says. “You will have to see, Sister.” 

The two of you come to another set of large double doors. Sister Imperator pushes one open and steps inside, holding it open for you. You slip past her into a huge, bright room, filled with hundreds and hundreds of bookshelves. Immediately you are hit with the scent of old books and parchment paper, and the gentle sounds of turning pages. To your left sits an ornate wooden desk with one Sibling standing behind it. They are sorting books onto a three-tiered cart, presumably to put them away in the correct order. You accidentally make eye contact, but they smile politely and you respond in kind with a little wave. 

You avert your gaze upward towards the open second floor, which wraps around the large atrium and is protected by a dark oak bannister. A few Siblings linger on the catwalk, carrying books or making their way towards the wide staircase that opens to your right. The bottom floor of the atrium houses several wooden tables where another smattering of Siblings sit. Most other tables are empty save for an abandoned book or two. 

The late evening glow shines down into the room from a large, circular skylight in the middle of the ceiling. There are desk lamps and overhead lights scattered about but none have been turned on yet. 

It reminds you of the University library.

“Come,” Sister Imperator says after allowing you to gaze around the massive library for a moment. “The lockbox is in the restricted section. You will receive your own key while you are here but you are required to return it, directly to myself or the Head Librarian, before you leave.”

She leads you up the carpeted staircase and deep into the bowels of the second floor. Towards the back corner, where the shelves are labeled ‘Fiction - Romance’, there is a wooden door tucked against the wall. A sign beneath its small glass window reads ‘RESTRICTED’. Sister Imperator fishes a rather noisy set of keys from her pocket and finds the correct one to unlock the door. She pushes it open with a squeak that feels loud in the quiet of the library. When both of you are in the room and the door is shut behind you, she removes an identical key from her keyring and hands it to you. “Your copy,” she says. “Do not lose it.” 

The room isn’t cramped, but it is small compared to the atrium. A few single-person desks sit along the back wall, while the walls on either side of you are lined with glass boxes. Each box is shaped similarly to a narrow cubby, and houses a single book. Printed labels on the front face of each box display a box number and the name of the volume stored inside. 

“Your key allows you to access any of these boxes,” Sister Imperator explains to you, “but I do not expect you to require any of them, except for the diary you’ll be working with. It is kept in box number seven, which is here,” she points to a box about halfway up the rightmost column of cubbies. Using her key (still attached to the incredibly jingly keyring), she gently unlocks the box and it glides out like a drawer. 

You step beside her to look down into the glass drawer. The diary is wrapped in white linen, but you can see the faint brown color of the leather through the cloth. “The archivist requests that you keep the white cloth under the book at all times,” Sister Imperator says. She reaches down into the box and gently retrieves the diary, careful not to jostle the cloth too much. “It will protect the leather from further decay.” You don’t need her to explain how preservation works, but you appreciate it anyway. It saves you from having to ask, or endure another awkward silence. 

She places the book down on a nearby table and slowly unwraps the cloth. Already you can see small flecks of brown and orange sticking to it where the leather has rotted, but it seems to be fairly well preserved in light of its age. On the front cover in small, embossed gold letters is the name Elizabeth. 

“Elizabeth,” you say, understanding. 

“Elizabeth,” Sister Imperator replies. “That is the only word we have managed to decipher. Hopefully you will be able to help us with the rest.”

You nod. “I believe I can.” 

She wraps the cloth loosely around the book once more, and returns it to its box. “I do not expect you to start tonight, Sister. We will give you time to settle, and have something to eat. But from tomorrow morning until you are done, this is your sole responsibility. Do you understand?” 

Her sudden, almost intimidating tone surprises you. You bite the inside of your cheek–a nasty habit you’ve had since you were a child. “I understand, your Dark Eminence,” you say with another nod. 

Her face softens, as does her stare. “Please, just Sister is fine,” she says. You follow her again as she begins to lead you out of the Restricted room. “I believe the dinner hour is to start soon. I will show you to your dormitory, and then leave you to get settled.” 

She brings you back through the library and the main hall towards where you’d seen the ghoul disappear with your luggage. The dormitory hall is a long, narrow corridor with windows on one side and doors on the other. Each door is marked with a number and a nameplate, and in between each door are wall sconces lit by incandescent bulbs. Halfway down the hall there is an opening to a stairwell which, you assume, leads up to the second floor of the dormitories. You walk past many, many doors, some of which have two nameplates, until you reach the very end of the hall where there are unmarked doors. Sister finds her keyring again and unlocks one, then removes the key and hands it to you. 

“These rooms here are the guest quarters. They are typically not suited for long-term stays but we have prepared yours to have everything you will need. If you need anything, ask Sibling Superior and they will make sure that you receive it.”

Sister Imperator turns to leave, but then turns around. “You know, Sister,” she says, with a curious look. “For someone of your expertise, I thought you would have been… older.” You can’t tell if it’s praise or suspicion in her voice. “Yes, well,” you stall. How are you supposed to explain that language just comes naturally to you and that it’s not your fault you’re not old and wrinkly? “I suppose once you learn one language, all the rest come easy. Especially romance languages.” 

“Hm,” Sister Imperator hums, sizing you up for a moment. “Find me at the end of the week and we will talk about your progress. I’m sure you will know your way around by then.” 

It seems her well of kindness has run dry.  

~~~

If the loud ringing of the bell didn’t tell you that the dinner hour had started, then the steadily rising sounds of a crowd did. You can hear the murmurs of conversation even through your closed door. A few Siblings emerge from the dormitory next to yours, their chatting and laughing growing quieter as they walk down the corridor towards the refectory. The old wood floorboards creak above you from the movement of Siblings who occupy the second floor. All around you there is an excited bustle, and yet you don’t feel like joining it. 

You have never liked crowds. Especially crowds of strangers. And these strangers all seem to know each other, if the echoes of loud conversations tell you anything. 

But your stomach does rumble, and you feel rather weak from a day of travel, so you decide that it’s best to eat something before you go to bed. Once the corridor seems clear again, you quietly slip out your door (patting your pocket to make sure you remembered your key) and make your way to the refectory. Sister Imperator hadn’t shown it to you but you can make an educated guess as to where it is. 

When you emerge into the main hall, you see a few Siblings occupying the wood benches that had been previously empty. They all hold trays or to-go boxes on their laps. Some speak animatedly, enthralling their friends with stories from their eventful day, while others sit quietly beside each other and eat. You think that it might be nice to sit somewhere to eat so that you feel a bit more connected to the Abbey, but all of the benches are occupied. The ever-growing roar from the refectory does not seem too appealing, either. 

The large room is across the main hall from the library. When you turn the corner you see that it’s not as grand as the atrium, and that it only occupies one level. There are sheer curtains hung over the windows, which allow the sunlight to illuminate the room but keeps it from growing too warm. Siblings, Clergy members, and ghouls alike sit at long wooden tables not unlike those of your home Abbey. But these tables alone are longer than the entire length of the Marseille refectory, and once again you’re reminded that you’re quite far from home. 

No, you can’t eat here. Not tonight. 

There is a long counter stretching nearly wall-to-wall to the left of the door, where a dwindling line of Siblings make their dinner selections. Whatever meal the kitchens had prepared smells delicious but you find that you don’t have the appetite for it. However, close to where you stand in the doorway and nestled in the space between the wall and the counter, are a few baskets of fruit arranged on a small table. The baskets are nearly empty, with the only indication of their contents being the small pops of color peeking through gaps in the woven pattern. 

Despite not wanting a hot meal, you are hungry, and so you enter the refectory and move towards the baskets. You opt for two good-sized oranges–although the bananas do look perfectly ripe–and turn to leave as quickly as you came. Your eyes briefly sweep over the crowd and land on a long table, perpendicular to all the others, situated on a platform at the opposite end of the refectory. The platform isn’t tall, but it is just enough to raise the table’s occupants slightly above the Siblings. The table is entirely composed of men, save for Sister Imperator, who seems to be talking to an older man with Papal paints and long blonde hair–is that Papa?

You look at the others occupying the table, and find that no less than three are also wearing Papal paints. 

Marseille is a tiny Abbey. At any given time, only about ten Siblings reside there at once. And so there is no need for an upper Clergyman to be stationed there. Instead, the Chapter is run by Bishop Beaumont, who (until now) is the highest ranking member of the Satanic Ministry you have ever met, let alone seen. 

So, to be faced with not one, but four Papas, all in the same room, makes your heart thump with nerves. You recognize them all from the portraits in the main hall, but in person they are all so much more… just more. And yet you still don’t know who is who. 

Of course, you know that all four of the most recent reigning Papas are brothers, the order of which was determined by age. The man who Sister Imperator is talking to must be Papa Emeritus I, or Papa Primo, as you’ve heard him called by Bishop Beaumont. The other three look relatively close in age, and so you truly have no idea which man currently holds the helm and steers the ship. 

You realize you’re staring when you make eye contact with one of the Papas. You nearly gasp in surprise, as if you shouldn’t even be on the same plane of existence as him… and yet your eyes met. Of course one of them would have caught you eventually, you think. You were practically ogling them from across the room. 

Hastily, you turn and make your way back out of the refectory and into the main hall. Your eyes fall on the nearest portrait. The Papal paints of the subject match the ones of the man you’d just been caught staring at. You blush as if his portrait could think, and had just caught you a second time. Your eyes flick down to the gold plate affixed to the frame, and read the words. 

PAPA EMERITUS IV.

[sterekbros]

Begin Again (1173 words) by Winchesterek Chapters: 1/? (WIP) Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes Additional Tags: Paramedic Stiles Stilinski, Firefighter Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, True Alpha Derek Hale, Good Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Omegaverse Alpha Derek Hale, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse Omega Stiles Stilinski, Packless Omega Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, POV Stiles Stilinski

Stiles’ heart was pounding in his ears as he reached in through the broken window, feeling for a pulse point. He couldn't believe what he’d just witnessed. Not only was it a hit-and-run, but they’d also shot the girl before they took off.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me. What’s your name?” he asked her as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She mumbled ‘Erica’ before she slipped away again and Stiles tried to yank the door open but it was jammed.

Then he saw it. The bullet wound was smoking. He grabbed her shirt and pulled it aside to look at her shoulder. There were black lines surrounding the wound.

“Shit.” He knew then that she was a werewolf and the people that attacked her were hunters. They likely only left her because they thought the bullet would do her in. If she were human, Stiles wouldn't dare move her because of any injuries she might have from the accident.

But she wasn't human. If he could get the bullet out and heal the wound, she would heal any other injuries on her own.

Stiles reached in to grab her under her arms and hauled her out of the broken window. He laid her out on the ground and ripped her shirt open around the collar, then slung his backpack off. “Alright, hang in there. We’re gonna get this out.”

He fished his pocket knife out of his bag, then took a deep breath before digging in for the bullet. Stiles removed it effectively and tossed it on the ground.

“Almost done. Just have to take care of this wolfsbane. You’re doing great,” he told her even if she didn't respond. It was a habit that Stiles had, always talking to his patients as if they were conscious enough to hear him even when they weren't.

Stiles pulled out a vial of wolfsbane from his bag and prayed that it was the right strain as he opened it, dumped some onto the wound, and packed it in. He capped it and threw it back into his bag, then grabbed his lighter and lit it. It sparked and smoked and Erica started convulsing.

His heart started evening out as the black lines disappeared and the wound healed, leaving Erica lying still on the ground. “Oh, thank god.”

Then she breathed deeply and blinked at him, her eyes glazed and confused.

“You’re okay,” Stiles breathed. “I called the ambulance when the accident happened. I know you’re a werewolf and I healed your wolfsbane poisoning. The ambo should be here any minute.”

She tried to talk and Stiles shook his head, stopping her from rising before she passed out again. He looked up to see lights flashing as an ambulance pulled up.

“What happened?” a woman asked as she exited the ambulance, while another went around to the back to get a transfer board and gurney from what Stiles could see.

“It was a hit and run. Her vitals are good and I can't tell if there are any head injuries, but there are no visual fractures. She’s been in and out of consciousness.”

“You moved her?” the woman asked, giving him a judgemental look.

“I made sure to stabilize her neck as best as I could while she was moved,” he lied and there was no evidence that he’d done so.

“Alright, we got it from here.”

Stiles watched as the other medic came and they transferred her onto the board, strapped her to the gurney, and loaded her into the back of the ambulance.

Before Stiles could react, everything was silent. He looked at the wrecked car and sighed, running a hand over his face and packed up his backpack. So much for having a stress-free life in Beacon Hills. He really should have stayed at Berkeley.

***

It had been an hour since Erica had been admitted to Beacon Hills Memorial and Derek was beside himself with worry. He’d gotten there as soon as he could. Erica had been in and out of consciousness even though the doctors told him there was nothing wrong with her. He could smell the wolfsbane on her skin, but the poison had left her system as far as Derek could tell.

He held her hand and sighed, raising it to scent her and press his cheek against it. “Come on, Erica. Wake up.” Please.

As if she heard his please, her voice broke into his thoughts with, “You know me. I survive on drama.”

Her voice was hoarse, but still light and teasing. Derek looked up, relief washing through him. “If you needed some attention, all you had to do was tell me. Really, enlisting the hospital wasn't necessary.”

Erica laughed and then raised her free hand to hold her head. “I feel like I have the worst hangover.” She sighed. “What happened to my car?”

”They took it to the impound lot to inventory it. I think the officer said it was totaled.” He squeezed her hand and assured her, “Well get you another one.”

”Fucking hunters. I swear. They came out of nowhere and rammed me, then shot me with fucking wolfsbane,” Erica grumbled.

“Hunters?” Derek’s brows rose in concern. “I scented the wolfsbane on you, but I didn't see any wounds… how did you remove it?”

Erica paused, looking thoughtful as she held Derek’s hand tighter. “There was a man… he helped me.” She frowned and rubbed at her eyes before she sighed. “I don't remember much… just spots.”

Spots? That made Derek frown more, his thumb idly stroking over the back of Erica’s hand as he tried to soothe her. “So he helped you?”

”Well I’m alive so that’s the only explanation that I have,” Erica replied and rested her head against a pillow.

Derek tried to pick up the scent of whoever it was that helped Erica, but he couldn't find much on her. There was something sweet lingering on her skin, but they’d removed her clothes when she was admitted to the hospital so he wouldn't find it there. “Well, whoever he is, I’ll have to owe him. Hale’s repay their debts.”

”I don't think he’ll feel like you owe him. I mean. Why would he save me if he was expecting something out of it and then not show up to the hospital?” Erica closed her eyes and squeezed Derek’s hand again. “Really, I’m okay. When can we leave?”

Derek glanced at the door, giving Erica another once over before he stood. “I’ll check with the doctors. I brought you a change of clothes since they said the others were ruined in the wreck.”

He released Erica’s hand and stood. “I’ll be back.”

He wiped his hands on his jeans and went to find a doctor. Derek wanted to get Erica out of there just as much as Erica wanted to leave. He hated hospitals.

And whoever saved Erica, Derek knew he owed them. He made a silent promise to find out who it was whenever things were quiet again.

[lustspren]

STARBOY EP 2. Prisoner ft Tiffany Young.

length: 8.4k words✦

Tiffany Young & Male Reader.

genres: dom! Tiffany, bdsm, degradation, hard sex, blowjob, handjob, face sitting, mommy kink, creampie, ✧ 

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Moving was fucking stressful. You didn’t have many things to carry, in fact, all your belongings and your clothes fit in a single suitcase and a bag, but you still had to get up very early in the morning to get everything in order as quickly as possible, that without removing the fact that there would be paperwork related to the condominium which you weren’t going to be able to complete before the meeting time with Sunmi. You would have time to worry about that later, right now you were only focused on not being late.

Heejin was extremely nervous while you two were waiting for the taxi, she bit her nails very often, and walked in one direction back and forth while biting the skin of her lips. She, unlike you, had three suitcases, and you had no fucking idea what exactly she was carrying in each other than her clothes. In a moment of anxiety and crisis last night after receiving the news, she locked herself in the bathroom and came out with her hair cut to her shoulders; your first impulse was to ask her what the hell she had done and what she was thinking, but just looking at her for a few seconds made you realize how incredibly beautiful she looked. It was one of the many qualities of hers, no matter what hairstyle she wore, she looked like a beauty goddess with each one of them.

"Can you stand still? You make me nervous," you turned to her. She was wearing a gray jean jacket with a tight black tank top under it, black joggers and converse sneakers; when you told her that she turned around and walked to stand next to you.

"How do you ask me to stay still when I'm moving to a place I never thought I'd go in my whole fucking life?!" she snapped, her brow furrowed, "and if that wasn't enough, I'm going to be a fucking burden to you," she was about to turn her back on you and keep walking, but you grabbed her wrist firmly and pulled her back.

"Listen to me, Jeon Heejin," you looked into her eyes, released her wrist and took her hands, "you're not going to be a burden to me, okay? I want to give you a good life, the life you deserve," you caressed the back of her hands with your thumbs, "besides, do you seriously expect me to enjoy a place like that by myself? Nah, I need my Heekie there."

Heejin had a moment of silence as her face softened.

"God, you're so clingy," she sighed before wrapping her arms around your torso and burying her face in your chest.

"I think that's why I drive you so crazy," you wrapped your arms around her.

"Shut up the fuck up, wimp," she said, her gaze lost on her somewhere down the street.

Not a minute passed when a four-door black car stopped in front of you, it was the taxi you were waiting for.

Getting the suitcases inside the car was a difficult task, only two fit in the trunk of the car, while the other two were lying on the back seats. Heejin was left with no choice but to sit on top of you in the passenger seat, her ass pressing against your crotch quite intentionally. You stirred a little nervously, and looked out the window so as not to lose concentration.

"To Hannam the Hill, please."

—-------------------------------------------------

After a few directions the taxi dropped you and Heejin right in front of the apartment complex. You opened your door, letting her get out first. Her reaction was priceless, she immediately reminded you of you last night, you were sure you had the same surprised face, as if you were taking a child to an incredible place she had never been before; it was definitely a new world for her.

"It doesn't make any fucking sense, does it?" you laughed as you got out of the car, to walk to the trunk of the car.

"This place is amazing, like, what the fuck..." Heejin moved a little away from the taxi to get a more detailed view of the place, "is that a fucking mall?" she pointed out innocently.

"How about you help me get down the corpses you have as suitcases?" you said as you lowered the first suitcase and left it on the sidewalk.

"Oh sure, sorry."

Once you unloaded all the suitcases and your things from the car, you and Heejin walked to the entrance of the building, where the same doorman from the night before stood guard unperturbed.

"Good morning, sir, let me help you with that" the man recognized you right away and gave you a slight bow, the same towards Heejin, "Good morning, young lady," he said, then you handed him the two suitcases you were carrying.

"Good morning," you greeted back, "could you please tell me what time it is?" you already had your hand on the door handle.

"9:57 AM," he replied, after checking his watch.

"Fuck, right on time," you sighed in relief, then opened the door for the man and Heejin to walk through.

"Damn, I've never been treated so courteously," Heejin said as you walked toward the elevator, "and I've certainly never been called that before."

"Well, you'll have to get used to it. Let me help you with that," you took the two missing bags she was carrying from her hands.

The doorman had taken the elevator first, but it wasn't until it went down again that you and Heejin took it to get to the floor of your apartment. The man was waiting for you there, the suitcases by his side.

"Have a nice day, see you later," the man said goodbye as he walked past you and into the elevator, leaving the two of you alone in the cold and lonely hallway.

"Well, here we go, are you ready?" you saw her.

"Nope, but come on, let's do it," she nodded.

You took the lead, Heejin following close behind as you turned right, heading straight for the apartment door, which was made of a completely different wood that you couldn't identify, but still looked no less expensive than Sunmi's.

"Holy crap, this thing alone is more expensive than our previous apartment," Heejin said from behind you.

"'Right? I said the same thing, it's ridiculous."

It was enough to ring the bell once for the nerves to turn into tickles in your spine, as well as a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach; you had been through the same thing last night, exactly the same situation, but it still felt the same way, like you were a little mouse going right into its trap.

The door opened in a matter of seconds, and how could it be otherwise, Miss Lee looked stunning, short jean skirt, high-soled shoes, black socks below the knees and a sleeveless polo shirt. She looked at you and then looked at Heejin with that cold look that characterized her.

"I'm glad you're punctual, it will certainly be a plus for you," it was an awkward way to greet you, but at least you were thankful that she hadn't spit in your face.

"Good morning Miss Lee," you bowed, "Uh, this is Heejin…" you stepped aside so she could get a good look at her, "my roommate."

"Ah... hi, it's my pleasure," Heejin gave her an awkward smile, followed by a giggle, it was clear that she couldn't hide her nerves, especially when she didn't expect Sunmi to be that intimidating.

"Hm..." Sunmi scrutinized her from head to toe, "what do you do for a living, girl?"

"I-I'm... a graphic designer, and cartoonist," you could almost hear her gulp as she said that.

"Interesting..." Sunmi nodded slowly, "she's definitely gorgeous, take good care of her unless you want some famous athlete or investor's son to steal her away from you," she told you, especially emphasizing that last sentence as a threat, "well, let's go in, I'll give you a tour of your new apartment."

You and Heejin exchanged worried and nervous looks before following Sunmi inside.

The apartment was a million times more impressive than you imagined, so the two of you shared the same level of awe as you took your first steps. The aesthetics of the apartment was completely different from that of Sunmi, the wood of the floor and the walls were light gray, with some areas painted white, and the most remarkable thing for you were the two white marble columns, one next to the kitchen bar, and another one above the artificial fireplace in front of the living room, which, as if that were not enough, was gigantic, with the large window that occupied almost the entire left wall covered by white curtains, and a chain of L-shaped sofas on top of a rug that matched the surroundings.

"I had it cleaned first thing in the morning, so everything is spotless," Sunmi said proudly, as she walked in front of the two of you, then stopped in the middle of the living room.

"I can't believe you're letting me live in a place like this, what the fuck," you said, still stunned as you stared at the TV set up on the opposite side of the marble column.

"Is that a mirror?!" Heejin asked out loud looking up, sure enough, there was a large mirror on the ceiling just above the coffee table in the middle of the rug.

"Well, I guess I don't need to explain everything to you, you guys aren't stupid," Sunmi said, also looking at the mirror, "this is the living room, what's behind me is the kitchen, and there's the dining table. "

"Seriously, do we also have our own wine reserve?" You pointed to the bottle rack behind the pillar next to the kitchen.

"You're going to need it from time to time, just enjoy it."

"The only time I've had expensive wine in my life was literally 4 years ago," Heejin mentioned as she stood in front of the glass protected bottle rack.

"And you still have a lot of things to know, girl. Come on, I'll show you the rest."

The tour of the apartment was made quite short, Sunmi took the two of you to see the guest bathroom (or common bathroom), which had almost nothing special, however, the one in the main bedroom left you with the great surprise, it had a hot tub that was at least 3 meters wide and long, lit with RGB lights that were set to white by default. You also saw the other bedroom, which you clearly weren't going to use, and an office with a bookcase and a desk that you clearly weren't going to use either.

"Well, that's it, I have to go," Sunmi said when you returned from leaving the suitcases in the bedroom, "here are the keys, don't you dare lose them."

"Heejin and I are very grateful, Miss Lee, it's amazing," you replied as you took the keys and bowed, Heejin did the same.

"Then I hope you make this worthwhile for me, boy," she threatened, "and you," she fixed Heejin with her eyes, "make sure you don't leave his balls dry, his job depends on it."

You noticed how your face started to get hot, you were sure that you had blushed with embarrassment, just like Heejin.

"Ah… o-okay," your roommate nodded, again, using her smile as a defense mechanism against her nerves.

"Anyways, you'll have work tonight, I'll send you the information in the afternoon," Sunmi turned and started to walk to the exit, "Oh, and I must warn you about one thing," she paused with her hand on the handle, "she has a... strong temper, bye!"

And with that, she opened the door and walked out of the apartment. Heejin and you were alone.

"Oh no, you're gonna be pegged."

"Shut the fuck up!" you complained, earning a laugh from Heejin.

"Who knew you were going to get fucked in the ass before me," she continued as you sat down on the couch and sank into the soft seat.

"You sound jealous," you closed your eyes and clasped your hands on your abdomen.

"Hell nah, I'm not into that shit," you felt Heejin sit next to you.

"You haven't even tried."

"And I don't want to either."

"You'd let me fuck any hole in you just by asking, what the fuck are you talking about?"

After saying that you noticed that Heejin fell silent, it wasn't until he opened her eyes that you caught her staring at you, probably insulting you in the most horrible ways possible in her head.

"What?" you smiled mischievously.

"At least I would be fucked in the ass by choice."

"So, you would let me do it?" you raised both eyebrows.

"Nope. I'll go unpack my things," with that said, she stood up and disappeared from your sight.

You stayed alone in the living room, enjoying the peaceful silence with your eyes closed, you needed that, after all, a moment of meditation was the first thing you needed to assimilate everything that was happening. You really were in an apartment in the most exclusive area of ​​Seoul, where you were going to live with the girl you loved; if you told the you of a few weeks ago that this was going to happen you would probably have told yourself that you were crazy, but that was the way things were now, and as incredible as it was, it was your new reality.

—------------------------------

 7:23 PM 

It was obvious that neither you nor Heejin were going to go out to the supermarket with so many things to organize in the apartment, so the two of you opted to order food. The selection had been easy, both of you wanted to eat sushi for days, so there you two were, sitting in the living room, with the view of the city of Seoul to your right. Surreal.

"I still can't believe any of this," Heejin said beside you, her mouth half full of the sushi roll, she took a moment to swallow, "I thought I'd end up serving ice cream at McDonalds."

"Well, at least you had a vision of your future, I didn't even have that," you replied, before eating a roll while watching the news on TV.

"I wasn't going to let you be a bum, I think that's for sure," she set the tray down on the table in front of you next to the chopsticks and pulled her legs up into your lap.

"I don't think it's the most romantic time to say it," you said gesturing towards the food, "but I feel very grateful to have you in my life, I mean, I don't know what I would do without you," you turned to meet her eyes.

She saw you back with a cute little smile on her face.

"God, you're so cute, come here," Heejin took the food from your hands and placed it on the table, then climbed onto your lap and squeezed her thighs on either side of your body. At your side you had a few napkins, she took one and wiped your mouth.

"Please don't make fun of me," you said, embarrassed at how corny you had been.

"Nah," Heejin wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned in a few inches until you two were face to face, "I'll give you what a lovely boy like you deserves."

Heejin slowly closed the distance between both faces, her lips were already brushing against yours, but before she kissed you, your phone vibrated in your pocket along with the personalized notification you had set for Sunmi.

"This has to be a fucking joke," you whispered bitterly, pulling away a bit to check the phone. Sunmi's message contained all the information you needed.

<< Tiffany Young, entrepreneur, economist, and investor, I owe so much of my success to her and her great business models. Be a good boy, and for god's sake, don't make her upset. >> Next thing was only a time and an address.

"You must go?" Heejin asked, looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

"Mjum, I have to get ready and I'll be there at 8, sorry Hekkie," you put the phone down and gave her a little kiss on the lips, "when I get back we'll do whatever you want, I promise."

"Can we see Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi?" It was her favorite movie.

"Of course," you kissed her forehead, "now get down, I don't want a cucumber up my ass."

"Right, I almost forgot you're gonna be pegged," Heejin said as she got off your lap and lay on the couch with her head on the armband.

"I'm gonna pound your ass so fucking hard that you're going to have to walk in a wheelchair," you threatened as you stood up, then walked into the bedroom.

"Is that a reward or a punishment?" you heard Heejin say behind your back. Brat.

You really didn't have much to prepare before you left, you had showered minutes ago, and you already had half of your outfit on, you only needed a coat due to the low temperatures outside. When you were ready, you met Heejin at the door of the apartment.

"God, I'm nervous," you took a deep breath.

"I know, this will be your first anal experience, it must be weird," Heejin patted you on the shoulder, as she nodded and feigned understanding.

"I'm beginning to think you're seriously jealous," you narrowed your eyes at her.

"Maybe I am, you'll find out later, now go away, wimp," she poked you on the forehead with her middle finger.

"Take care, okay? I'll be right back as soon as I'm done," you gave her a little kiss on the forehead, then she nodded like a good girl.

"I'll be waiting for you, bye," she said, as you opened the door and left the apartment.

The address you'd been given wasn't too far from your building, in fact it was only a few buildings up, so you decided to walk. Upon arrival you were greeted with the same protocol as always, and in no time you were in the elevator to the woman's floor.

You walked down the hallway, much like the ones in your building, and came to the door corresponding to the apartment number. You rang the bell, expecting a bit of a delay in response, but as soon as you did, your hostess for today opened the door for you.

For a moment you thought your jaw would drop to the ground.

You had no fucking idea what to look at first, she was wearing a short black skirt, a tight sheer tank top and a black corset that showed off her luscious cleavage, and if that wasn't enough, she had small hole fishnets on her creamy legs. Her hair was jet black, and there wasn't much to say about her face, she was stupidly beautiful, her bright red lips immediately caught your eye. She gave you the same vibes as Sunmi, but there was a big difference, this woman did not have a resting bitch face, on the contrary, her face only said: << Make me mad and I swear I will beat the shit out of you >>.

"Ah, you must be the boy," she looked you up and down carefully, her brow furrowed, "come in."

You bowed as a sign of respect and entered without saying a single word, you were afraid that she would slap you for simply speaking. Her apartment was not very different from yours, it had a very similar style, only with a tighter distribution of space and very different furniture, you could tell that she had paid for a total remodeling, but what caught your attention the most was the strange presence of leather in... almost everything.

"Sit down," she commanded imperatively, gesturing toward the black leather couch.

So you did, and as soon as your butt was planted there, the woman climbed onto your lap and pressed her thighs against you in a firm grip.

"Okay, here are the rules, little toy," she looked into your eyes. You could have sworn she was judging your soul at the time, "First of all, you're not allowed to touch me for anything in the fucking world unless I tell you to; you'll answer to absolutely any nickname I give, no matter what it is; and more importantly, you're only allowed to speak when I ask you a question, and calling me two things: Miss Tiffany, and Mommy," she paused briefly, "got it, little toy?"

"Yes mommy," you nodded, and then gulped.

"Mmm, you're obviously a good boy, I think I like you..." Tiffany said, running her fingers through your hair and looking at you as if she was going to devour you, "I'm going to have a lot of fun using you."

And there you were again, being the prey. Your heart was pounding, and you were tense as shit; not even Sunmi had made you feel as tiny as Tiffany did, she radiated a dominating and imposing energy that you hadn't seen before, and half of all that energy was focused on how she saw you. Little by little, pegging ceased to be a fear and became a reality.

"Sunmi told me your cock was amazing... <<I've never tasted a so big and delicious one>>" she said, "Tiffany reached a hand between your bodies and went down to grab your cock in a strong grip, " I'll have to judge that myself," she whispered, caressing your bulge with the palm of her hand.

She closed the distance to kiss you, and it was obvious you weren't even going to bother being in control since it was impossible, so you just let her attack your mouth however she wanted. It didn't take long for you to feel her tongue collide with yours, and with each passing second she became more aggressive with her caresses, to the point where she was almost jerking you off over your clothes, a moan escaped you in the middle of the kiss.

"Oh, what did I just hear?" Tiffany broke the kiss. Fuck, "do you like that, pervert?"

"I... yes, yes mommy," you pursed your lips, your breathing a little uneasy.

As soon as you said that Tiffany was back to stroking your bulge furiously, a mischievous grin slowly creeped in. You couldn't explain why, since you've never had anything like this done to you, but it felt so fucking good, which made your face twitch a bit and your hips squirm; that of course caused her glee.

She did for a few more seconds, but stopped out of nowhere when she saw a small, prominent stain on your pants.

"Oh no… The little pervert is already spilling," Tiffany said with fake pity in her voice, "I haven't even touched your dick yet, you're so fucking pathetic," she got off your lap and stood up, pulling on your hoodie so that you would get up too.

She dragged you out of the living room, down the halls, and ended up in front of a dark mahogany door. Tiffany opened it, and you felt your spine suddenly freeze. At first glance it might seem like a normal room, dark, and full of elements that seemed to be taken from Morticia Addams' room, but as you looked at all the details you realized that... It was also a dungeon. A sex dungeon.

"Get undressed, now, but leave your boxers" she ordered once you entered and she had closed the door.

You started right away, starting with your shoes, your hoodie, and lastly your pants; when you finished, Tiffany came back with something in her hands. Handcuffs.

"Oh, what a nice body you have…" she placed her cold hand on your chest, and slowly lowered it past your abdomen to your rock-hard cock, giving it a slightly softer, slower squeeze, "I think I won't be so mean to you."

She slowly pushed you back to the side of the room, where there was a suspiciously lonely chair next to the bed. You knew what was about to happen, and you didn't know if you were excited or terrified to the bone.

"Seat," she commanded, and you, like an obedient dog, complied, "good boy," you saw how she disappeared from your sight to crouch behind you, you couldn't see anything, but suddenly she grabbed your two wrists and put them together behind the chair, the next thing you felt was the cold metal of the handcuffs surrounding them and holding them firmly, you tried to struggle, but you only got pain from how tight they were.

Tiffany took a few more seconds to come back in front of you, when she did you realized why, now she was completely naked, except for her black lace panties. Your eyes immediately went wild, running over every inch of her tight, pretty body with them, especially her pretty tits and her fishnet-adorned thighs. She opened your legs abruptly and knelt between them, she looked into your eyes, her gaze seemed to weigh the same as an aircraft carrier, because even holding her felt impossible for you, she was the most imposing woman you had ever met in your life.

She started with gentle strokes on your inner thighs, using the pads of all her fingers, going down to your knees but never quite touching your cock, but instead of her hands, she laid her tongue flat against the rear and gave you a very slow lick to your tip, a slight shiver attacked your whole body, followed by a deep gasp as Miss Tiffany took you into her mouth and began to aggressively suck half of your cock, the change had been so sudden that you squirmed a little in the chair, but after a few seconds you got used to it, and you couldn't do anything else but enjoy the not at all careful blowjob you were receiving.

Your hostess knew perfectly well what she was doing, it might seem that she was destroying your cock without any kind of mercy, but despite how strong and fast she was sucking you off, you could tell that for the two of you it felt fucking incredible. Tiffany constantly moaned around your cock, and you accompanied her with little shudders and gasps. Her nails dug hard into your thighs, that caused a deep growl to shake your throat, you were sure that several of those marks were going to bleed when she pushed her nails away.

"Oh my fucking god, your cock is so fucking delicious, fuck!" she rasped after pulling your saliva-soaked shaft out of her mouth, she lifted one hand from your thigh, only to jerk you off furiously. Just as you expected, her fingernails had caused you to bleed a bit, it stung, but you didn't even have time to focus on it, "You're going to give me a big fucking load right now, is that clear, you fucking disgusting toy?"

"Y-yes..." you only managed to say in a mix between pleasure from how she masturbated you and pain from her nails digging into your other thigh.

"Yes WHAT?!" she screamed at you, to dig her nails in even harder, you screamed in pain.

"Yes mommy! I'll give you my whole load, fuck!" you yelled back, and she finally pulled her nails from your thigh, to lay her hand flat. The marks bled in little trickles. Nothing to worry about, but still painful.

"That's a good fucking boy!" she said, as she masturbated you with all her might. Your cock was starting to dry from the mere friction, but she brought her free hand to her mouth, released a big spit on it and brought it to your shaft, turning it into an amazing two-handed lubricated handjob.

The wet sounds of their hands rubbing furiously against your cock and your little moans were the only noise that filled the room, you were tense in your chair, you couldn't see them, but you knew your knuckles were already white from how hard you were clenching your fists You were going to explode at any moment. Tiffany's arms didn't seem to tire at all, it seemed like she could be doing that all night, even if it meant ripping the skin off your cock.

"Come on you disgusting piece of shit, cum for mommy, give your whole fucking load to mommy," she demanded between her teeth, staring at you with those parted red lips.

You were very close, your breathing was already beginning to betray you, and all the pleasure that ran through your body was suddenly concentrated in your lower abdomen, and your eyes were narrowed as you felt the spark of your orgasm blossoming. Your hips squirmed in the chair as you fired your load, several spurts of it hitting your abdomen, the rest just going into her hands and joining the handjob. You had already cum, but even so Tiffany didn’t slow down, nor did she stop, quite the contrary, she went faster; she was overstimulating you, so you squirmed like a worm in the chair because of how sensitive your cock had become. You complained loudly, with huge yells and little taps of your foot on the floor, but Tiffany didn't care.

"You're going to give me another one, that's a fucking order, you fucking trash," she said imperatively, masturbating you into a mix of her saliva and your own cum. You could notice that it wasn’t the first time she had done this; she was rubbing the tip of your cock with her hand in quick circles, while with the other she kept rubbing all over your shaft. You couldn't stop writhing in pain, despite that you controlled yourself, but your teeth and jaw were clenched, and you had tears in your eyes.

She scooped up all the cum on your abdomen with her right hand, the one that was cupping and rubbing your tip, and she poured it all over your cock again, going back to the same process. It wasn't long until you gave her your second load.

This time you could only scream and grunt, you didn't see what was happening, your eyes were squeezed shut and your head thrown back in the chair due to the drainage, you only knew that this time your cum hadn't landed on your abdomen, and that Tiffany finally slowed down, when you opened your eyes and straightened your head, you found that the woman's face was painted white, filled with your fluids. She had a big proud smile on her face. Both you and her were in a mess, and there was cum everywhere, on her face, on her hands, on your abdomen, on your cock, and some on the floor.

"You're such a good boy. The best I've ever had, by far," the smile faded, but it didn't go away for a moment as she wiped you clean, wherever there was cum (except on the floor), Tiffany used her tongue to take it all into her mouth, soon you were clean, a little sticky, but clean, "I'll give you your well-deserved rest."

Tiffany got up and stood behind you, soon you heard a <<click>>, and your hands were free. You sighed, and moved your wrists in circles to warm them up again, they ached, so you winced.

"Were they too tight? I'm sorry, I don't really care honey," she patted your cheek with a gesture of false sympathy, "don't get used to it anyway. Stand up and lie down on the bed."

You obeyed like a well-trained dog, despite the fact that your legs at first didn’t give in to support the entire weight of your body, you managed to stand up and stagger to the bed, you got into it, and lay down in the middle, your head resting on a soft pillow. Your gaze locked on the ceiling for a moment as you psyched yourself up for the long run ahead, but you were distracted by the addition of a new weight to the bed. Tiffany had climbed on the bed, she was kneeling next to you, now without panties.

"You're going to eat my fucking pussy, your pathetic face will serve as my chair for a little while," she said, taking both of your hands and clasping them on your abdomen, then put the handcuffs on again, this time they felt more loose, but still painful.

She turned around and climbed onto your chest, her cute little ass perched right in front of your face, your eyes locked on her wet pussy as she moved closer to your mouth, who soon was sunk between her cheeks, giving you the first contact with her soft folds, which you began to lick slowly.

Tiffany sighed, enchanted by the delicacy and skill with which you began to eat her pussy, for you it was like a starter, you knew that soon she wouldn't be satisfied with just that. The moment wasn’t long in coming, your hostess fixed her thighs on each side of your head, in a firm constriction that forced you to raise the level; your tongue began to move much faster, exploring every corner of her slit as if your life depended on it (and it did), she ground her ass against your face slowly at first, with sensual little moans, but as you used everything you knew to satisfy her, she began to mount your face as if it were a mechanical bull.

Her hands rested on the upper part of your abdomen, clinging to it with her nails while she used your mouth at will. It was a complete torture not being able to touch her in any possible way with your hands, you wanted to feel her trembling thighs, or squeeze her nice tight ass, or even massage her modest perky tits, but this was all you could get, so you were making sure to give your best.

You focused on her clit, attacking it with frantic licks with the tip of your tongue and long licks between its folds; she removed her hands from your abdomen to put them behind her and wrap her fingers in your hair to pull it; she pressed her pussy even more against your mouth, which ended up leaving you almost no air to breathe. She was choking you, and you were sure she didn't give a shit, so you made one last effort, eating her pussy like you haven't had meat in years. The loud cries of pleasure were the main indication that her orgasm was close, so you didn't falter for a second, not even due to the fact that you were beginning to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

Lucky for you, within seconds Tiffany exploded in your mouth, she flopped forward, one side of her face resting on your flaccid cock as her body jerked in short intervals from the spasms, her fluids staining your mouth and part of your jaw She had lifted her ass away from your face, so you were able to take a long breath of air, your chest going up and down quickly as you tried to catch your breath. You didn't know what "well deserved rest" meant to her, but damn, this time she almost killed you. Again, you were paralyzed, your gaze lost at the ceiling; you knew it wouldn't end there.

You don't know how much time passed when Tiffany had fully recovered, she got off your chest, and then turned to you with a fucking sensual look that made you shudder. Her hand moved to your cock, which she firmly grasped and began to rub up and down, slowly bringing it back to life.

"You know what? I feel merciful today," she said, leaning into your cock to take it into her mouth, she gave you a very brief slow suck, just enough to make your shaft rock hard again, when she did, she broke away from your cock to remove the handcuffs and throw them to the ground, "touch me, how you want, where you want, and when you want, but all other rules still apply, is that clear, little toy?"

"Yes mommy, of course," you agreed, a small hint of a smile on your face.

She straddle your abdomen again, her thighs pressing hard on either side of your torso; she flopped forward, her hair covering the sides of your face as she smashed her lips against yours, you hesitated a bit to make the first contact due to the irrational fear you had, but finally your arms wrapped around your hostess’s skinny body, your hands feeling her creamy skin for the first time all night. You let her have control over her kiss, to dominate you at her whim despite the freedom she had just given you, that didn't matter to you, the truth was that you were enjoying it.

You held her tightly against you, not wanting to waste a single second of the closeness between your bodies; a short time passed when her ass claimed all your attention, and as if by magnetic attraction, your hands squeezed both of her cheeks with force, Tiffany released a mixture of moan and growl against your mouth.

"Spank mommy hard, you fucking trash, come on," she ordered through her teeth, then kissed you again.

Again, you hesitated, but she seemed to be really serious about her demands, so you simply did as you were told, raising your right hand and letting it drop suddenly against her buttock, the spank resound throughout the room.

Tiffany, again, growled in the middle of the kiss, and put her tongue inside your mouth to add to the aggressive dance, in response, you raised your other hand and gave her a hard spank on her other buttock, and then another one in which you'd already slapped, your hostess pulled away from the kiss and screamed, clutching at your hair with her fingers and pulling it in a way that hurt, but you couldn't complain, you couldn't and you didn't have to.

"Listen to me, you piece of shit, I'm going to ride you so hard I'm going to break you in half," she warned, still pulling your head back, and you didn't know if you should be excited or terrified about it.

She let go of your hair and put a hand between your bodies, it came down to meet your hard cock, which she rubbed a few times before lining it up with her slit; there was no foreplay or anticipation of any kind, Tiffany simply lowered her hips little by little, impaling herself on your flesh. Her folds engulfed your shaft slowly, taking you inch by inch into her stupidly tight pussy. A long moan escaped from your mouth just like Tiffany's, and with another couple of inches, your cock was completely buried inside her.

"Holy fucking shit," Tiffany gasped with her eyes closed and her eyebrows raised in pleasure, "this dick is amazing, fucking amazing."

Her eyes snapped open, to see you with an expression that froze your body, she really was going to destroy you. Her hand went to your neck as she straightened up a little, and for the first time in your life, you were being choked. It was a strange sensation, you didn't know if that was the hardest she could squeeze, but your breathing was already quite obstructed, what made you really enjoy it was the movement of her hips up and down, fucking herself with every inch of your throbbing flesh.

She was slow at first, but as she got used to your thickness she began to move faster, which came with an increased grip on your neck, now she was squeezing hard, almost as hard as her pussy walls on your cock. You couldn't moan, you couldn't even make a sound, but your eyes and your expressions let her know that you were really enjoying it like a son of a bitch, which you didn't expect from yourself, but the truth is that if you had to experience that for the first time, would have to be with a woman like this, so intimidating, strong and impetuous that deep down she drove you crazy.

Your gazes never left each other, she watched you as she continually moaned in pleasure, her crimson red lips in an O shape as she quickly jumped on your cock.

"You like how mommy rides that filthy fucking cock? Huh?" she teased you, to slap you hard with her free hand, then she released your neck so you could respond. You breathed for a moment before answering.

"Fuck yes mommy," you only managed to say, your cheek red hot from the slap she had just given you, but that response only earned you another, on the other cheek.

"I didn't fucking hear you!" she yelled at you, riding you harder.

"Yes mommy! I love how you use my cock as your filthy fucking toy!" you yelled back, almost snarling.

That seemed to turn Tiffany on even more, as she planted her feet on the mattress on either side of your torso to begin slamming her ass against your pelvis aggressively, so hard that she took your breath away a bit with each crash. She choked you again, but this time with both hands, and squeezing hard, your breathing almost completely obstructed. She was keeping her promise, you really felt like she was going to break you in half with the force and speed with which she jumped against your cock.

"Give me a fucking load, come on, come on!" she demanded of you with the imperativeness of a soldier, and the truth was that you weren’t far from your orgasm. No sooner said than done, your orgasm came within seconds, and she loosened your throat a bit so you could moan as you shot your load inside her, but Tiffany didn't stop.

You started to scream and writhe in pain, but Tiffany subdued you by pressing your neck hard against the bed. You couldn't take it anymore, you were going to collapse at any moment, the pain was unbearable, but for some reason you found some pleasure in it.

"One more, baby, just one more, you can do it," she growled through her teeth, then grinned devilishly and moaned aloud. Your cum spilled out from inside her and ran free all over your shaft, serving as a perfect natural lubricant to make her pussy feel even better. You didn't know what was going to happen first, but you were starting to get dizzy once more; everything was too much for you, the obstruction of your breath, the violent crashes against your pelvis, and the overstimulation. A few seconds passed when you cum again, your body contorting violently, forcing you to hold on to Tiffany's wrists. Your hostess screamed at the ceiling as she felt a new load inside her pussy, which brought her to an orgasm almost as violent as yours. Both of your bodies shaked in spasms; Tiffany released your neck and smashed her face into your chest, but it was too late.

Your vision went black.

—------------------------------

10:48 PM

Your head hurt, that was the first thing you noticed when you woke up, the second thing was that you felt like a truck had run over you twice. Your eyes widened weakly as you stretched out on the incredibly soft mattress, making you remember where you were.

"God, you're finally awake," a female voice said to your right, "I was starting to think I'd put you in a coma."

You turned your head to see where the voice came from, you found the beautiful face of your hostess already softened; she no longer seemed to want to insult you by the mere fact of sighing, she seemed more concerned about you. Just as a precaution, you didn't speak, you just put your hands on the mattress to sit up with a lot of effort; your whole body ached, especially your thighs and pelvis.

"Are you okay? Wasn't I too harsh?" Tiffany also sat next to you, and cupped the side of your face with one hand, "You can talk freely now, honey."

You frowned, and you saw her somewhat confused, was she really the same person? You remembered the most intimidating woman you'd ever met, even scared you, now she just looked like a worried mom.

"Hmm, ignoring the fact that I feel like I got beat up in an alley, yeah, I'm fine," you arched your back to stretch it as well, "and to answer your second question well..." you looked down at your thighs, both wounded by their nails, just like your chest.

"God, I'm so sorry, I don't know myself when I'm horny," she gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, one you never thought you'd receive from a person like the one you met a few minutes ago, "I'll pay you extra to cover the damages , I'm sorry."

You were silent for a moment, staring at nothing, you definitely never thought you'd meet such a beautiful and sexy bipolar woman, and you didn't know how to feel about it.

"Well, at least I hope I gave you a good service," you swung your legs off the bed and sat on the edge, then tried to get up, but failed on the first try, "fuck."

"Oh yes, you can be sure I'll recommend you, you have an amazing cock, and you know how to play," she got off the bed and stood in front of you, still naked, "let me help you," she offered you both hands for you to get up.

"Thank you very much, I appreciate it, but I don't think I'll be available until the day after tomorrow, unless I want my dick to explode," you took both of her hands and stood up, your legs wobbly.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" she asked concerned, looking up to meet your eyes, "I only made you cum... 4 times."

"Doesn't seem like enough? Damn," you walked slowly towards your pile of clothes, only to find your boxer and put it on.

"Well, you're right, but in my defense, I've never tasted cock this good," she shrugged.

"I'm flattered, ma'am, but could you please tell me how long I was asleep?"

"Huh..." she paused to think about it, "almost two hours."

"WHAT?!" you yelled, balls in your throat, "oh shit," you put your hand to your forehead, "we're ready here, aren't we?"

"Sure, I'll go out to deposit the money in your account," she approached you and put her hands on your neck, "you did amazing today, little toy, I hope I can still count on you," she gave you a little kiss on the lips, before walking out and leaving you alone in the room.”

You didn't know if that nickname was going to bring you traumas or some kind of kinky shit, but the truth was that you had a chill down your spine when she said it.

You got dressed as fast as you could, checked that you had all your things (your phone and wallet), and walked outside with the weight of 90 souls on your back. Tiffany was already in the doorway, a black towel wrapped around her body.

"It's done, check the amount when you have a moment," she opened the door for you, "Take care, okay? If you need anything, don't hesitate to contact me," she handed you a piece of paper with what you assumed was her number.

"God, you really confuse me," was all your brain could process for you to say, "Good night, Miss Young, I won’t forget it," you gave her a little bow, and then walked out.

—------------------------------

11:24 PM 

When you entered your apartment, the first thing you did was take off your shoes and leave them at the entrance; the lights were mostly off, so you took it upon yourself to turn on only the necessary ones so you wouldn't trip over everything while walking to the kitchen. You opened the fridge, only to take out a can of beer, uncover it and take a sip, then just sat on one of the bar stools, admiring the night views of the city in complete silence.

A few minutes passed until you finished your beer, left it in the trash, and headed to the bedroom, where you found Jeon Heejin buried up to her neck in sheets. The room was only illuminated by the light from the TV screen, she was watching anime.

"Honey! You're just in time," she pulled the sheets up to her belly to hold out her arms for you, an excited smile on her face, she was wearing one of your hoodies. Her smile rubbed off on you, so that's how it felt to be loved, huh?

You just walked weakly towards her after closing the door, climbed on the bed, got under the covers, and went straight into her arms, your face buried in her neck, she smelled delicious, like a new soap whose smell you couldn't decipher. Her embrace felt warm, like you were home and had absolutely nothing else to worry about.

"How was everything?" she asked innocently.

"She fucking destroyed me," you replied, your voice low and your eyes closed.

"Oh no, she really pegged you," her voice sounded worried, but you were sure she wanted to tease you.

"She. Didn't. Fucking. Pegged me," you clarified, "She just… god."

"How many times?"

"Four," you said, knowing what she meant.

"Jesus Christ! That woman is a danger to society," she put her hand on the back of your neck, as if she wanted to protect you.

"I really felt like she was going to kill me, in fact, I passed out," you sighed, lifting your face from her neck so you could see her, "don't laugh at me, please."

Heejin was already ready to laugh, but she held it back just because you asked her to.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," she gave you a peck on the forehead.

"Please tell me you didn't watch My Neighbor Totoro without me."

"Nope, you know I couldn't, I was just watching an anime I had pending," she looked at the screen for a moment, then at you, "do you want to watch it now? And cuddle with me all night?"

"Please, that's all I need."

—------------------------------

SPREN NOTES:

Well, it's not like I have a lot to say here, but thanks so much for reading! It took me a lot longer than I expected to write this, but I was very uninspired at a certain point, but I was able to pull it off, and here it is! Starboy will continue, very soon ;)

Don’t forget to support me on ko-fi if you want! https://ko-fi.com/lustspren.

[5bcarremoval]

Unwanted Car Wreckers in Newcastle

When it comes to selling a junk car, there are so many things that come to mind to ensure the best way to sell a car. Why should you go through any sort of hassles when the best platform is in front of you? Why should you get indulge in any sort of paperwork? Why should you compromise with peace of your mind? Why should you wait any longer? The answer to all your doubts is 5B Car Removals Newcastle.

For More Info Get in Touch: Phone: 0402 639 249 Email: 5bcarremovals@gmail.com Website: Auto Wreckers Newcastle

[itsokbbygrl]

Proper Education: A Dark!Joel Saltburn AU Chapter 1: Fair is Foul, and Foul is Fair

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x OFC!Reader (written in 2nd POV)

Chapter Rating: M for foul language, underage drinking, mentions of sexual activity and drug use

Word Count: 1.1k, just a baby chapter to kick things off (don't get used to this, most of these chapters will be monsters)

Reader Immersibility: OFC is insanely white coded (frankly this whole story is full of white nonsense), she is from an old money wealthy family that owns an estate from the Gilded Age in New York, she is 18 years old, a college freshman at University of Texas at Austin, and is considered beautiful by society's standards in 2006 which means she is thin, has long hair, and is able bodied. She is relatively smart, but by no means a scholar. She is very sociable and often uses her charm to get her way. Story is written in 2nd person POV so the reader can feel what she is feeling as the story progresses and to keep the reader’s perspective limited as things start to get weird whacky and wild, but it will be difficult for the average reader to see themselves as her physically (myself included, trust me).

Chapter Tags: 18+ MDNI, foul language, implied drug use, underage drinking, mentions of sexual activity, college freshman aged OFC, rich white people doing rich white people things, author is requesting that you suspend your disbelief for some of these things!!!, OFC's family estate is a real place but is not a family home, liberties are taken with regard to UTA student life, inspired by Saltburn

Dividers by @pommecita, story is not beta'd, just written and edited by yours truly

Yet do I fear thy nature;  It is too full o’ th’ milk of human kindness  To catch the nearest way.  -Lady Macbeth, Act 1 Scene 5

The car slows to a stop in front of the familiar old tower. The stone structure bleached by unrelenting ultraviolet rays from the unrelenting sun baring down an omnipresent heat. You’d almost forgotten what it was like, the Texan summer. Almost. 

Your driver removes your luggage from the trunk of the black town car as you exit from your seat and step into the perpetually sticky August air, shading your eyes with a hand at your brow so you can properly thank him before you reach for your purse and leave him with a generous tip. You can’t remember his name, but you’re thankful for his service nonetheless. You’ve long become accustomed to a variety of faces in your family’s employ weaving in and out of your life; he is simply another face and name to add to the ever-increasing register.  

Your family sent the majority of your things ahead of move-in day, the university easily agreeing to transport them to your suite in student housing, a benefit of having your last name on one of the buildings, you rationalize, leaving you with a single suitcase and weekend bag to attend to on your own as you make your way to the designated key pickup zone. 

You were regretting your choice of attire the farther you strode across campus. You’d spent the last three months of your summer break idling at your family’s Long Island estate. The cool sea air making you quickly forget how unabating the summer heat was in landlocked central Texas. Your family had escaped the annual calefaction just after your graduation, retreating from your home in the rolling hills of Austin to the cool serenity of the Island. The estate is grandiose, passed through generations and now belonging to your mother and father. A bit gaudy in its opulence, in your opinion, but you harbor many fond memories from your summers spent there throughout your life—running through the vast gardens, sunning yourself on the meticulously manicured lawns, learning to golf and play tennis and swim, and as you grew a bit older, partaking in the many lavish parties hosted by your parents and grandparents alike, kissing boys in secret corridors, drunkenly losing your virginity in the grand library, gleefully breaking your D.A.R.E. pledges with your dear sister and cousin in your bathroom the first time someone brings over a tiny plastic baggie full of unlabeled white powder. 

Your exposed skin glistened with sweat; low rise denim skirt clinging to the skin at your hips, skin beginning to chafe uncomfortably between your thighs. You were glad you’d opted to clip your hair up in a classic twist before you’d gotten off the plane, keeping your neck free from being insulated by your thick tresses. You’re thankful for the many trips to campus over your lifetime as you head towards the designated booth for freshmen to pick up their dorm keys. You’re a fourth generation Longhorn, a legacy, and you know you have a reputation to uphold. You try to keep your face poised, relaxed, friendly, as the growing beads of moisture begin to drip in tiny rivulets between your breasts and along the central dip of your spine. 

You introduce yourself to the upperclassman working the table for your building and complete the requisite paperwork before you’re handed your keys—one for your door, one for your personal mailbox—and instructed to stop in the lobby before you drop off your items so you can have your student identification badge issued. 

“Your ID works like a key to get into the building after 10pm. Don’t lose it,” you’re warned by the table attendant. 

“Thank you, I’ll be careful,” you answer congenially, leaving them with a charming smile before you head in the direction of your dorm. 

You find your building without issue and reluctantly have your picture taken by the residence hall staff for your student ID. They give you a rundown of the general building rules—curfew is 10pm, after which time only residents with their programmed ID badges will be permitted entrance, all overnight guests must be checked in at the front desk with a government or student ID, no alcohol or illicit drugs are permitted on the premises, smoking is not permitted inside the building—and you maintain eye contact with the staffer and smile and nod while you let their words flow in one ear and out the other. 

Once you finish signing your agreement to follow the established residence hall code of conduct, your student ID has been printed and programmed. You take the badge with kind smiles and ample thanks before you haul your luggage to the elevator and make your way to your assigned room. A private double room all to yourself. Your parents insisted, making sure you’d have enough space to study and relax in equal measure. 

“Sweetpea, you know how it is there, those RAs are not gonna be as lenient as your daddy and I with the,” your mother stops her sentence and gestures, mimicking smoking a joint with one hand and drinking from a bottle with the other. She had sat on the other end of the plush sofa with you as you debated which residence hall to choose after coming home after your new student orientation the previous spring. 

You scoffed and kicked out a leg, painted toes bumping her thigh. 

“What? I’m just sayin’, babydoll. You’re a good time, college is a good time, but the RAs can be real,” she lowers her voice, “cunts.” She snickers a laugh at her own crudeness. 

“Mama, I know. I just thought it was part of the,” you raise both of your hands, forefingers and middle fingers miming quotation marks in the air, “college experience to have a random roommate or whatever.” You look back at the brochures in front of you and sigh before relenting. “I guess you’re right. The privacy will be nice.”

“Damn straight, baby. Plus, you don’t have to worry about a roommate being around when you bring a nice young man home to fu—”

“MOM, jesus,” you cut her off, shaking your head as she laughs. 

“What?! Baby girl you are my daughter, that means you’re half of me, and I fully know what that entails, ok? No reason to be ashamed of it, you’re young and gorgeous. Enjoy it while it lasts,” she tips her glass of white wine in your direction. You reach for your own on the coffee table, lifting it to hers, allowing the crystal to clink and chime in cheers as you both take a sip. 

You use your new key to unlock your door and haul your bags inside, finding boxes stacked neatly in the corner for you to unpack. “Welcome home, I guess,” you say to the four walls you’ll call home for the next year.

Navigation: Chapter 2: coming soon | Series Masterlist

a/n: thank you for reading! this is a multi-chaptered work in process with new chapters being posted approximately every other Friday at or around 7pm CT (pending my work schedule changing to late shift). please consider not only liking, but reblogging and leaving a comment or tags to give me some feedback! reblogs are the only way content is circulated on this platform and are always appreciated!

follow @itsokbbygrl-notifs and subscribe to notifications to receive notice when new chapters are posted.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Black Reader - The Bodyguard Part 7/8

Things are heating up😫

⚠️Warning ⚠️

Mentioning of violence

Summary - Reader is a popstars in trouble and Ruben is her new bodyguard, here to protect and help her find out who wants to hurt her. But what happens when the relationship between Reader and Ruben simply gets too personal?

Enjoy!

"So what are you gonna do?"

It was early, but not time to leave for the airport yet. You woke up to Ruben's warm chest against your cheek. He held you close, drawing lazy patterns on the hill of your shoulder.

"Face the music I guess."

"You're gonna confront your sister?"

"Yes and take responasbility for my life."

It felt like the most reasonable thing to do, however, the thought of facing your sister and Tyson again ached your stomach.

"Just know that whatever you choose to do, I'm here."

You tilted you head. Ruben was already looking at you, his eyes big and kind. You lay hand on his cheek, directing his face towards yours. You still had to get used to the feel of kissing another man. But compared to Tyson's, Ruben's kisses spread warmth throughout your chest.

Five hours later you left Brussels and returned home.

"You're early" Your sister said, as you and Ruben stepped through the door. Ironically she was seated on the couch, the same couch she and Tyson were getting freaky on whenever you weren't around.

"Where is Tyson?" You asked, as Ruben brought your bags upstairs.

"He's out. Left for a booking this morning."

"A modeling booking?"

"Exactly."

"Has he been getting alot of those whilst I was gone?"

"A few, why?" You sister mimicked the way you were looking at her with furrowed brows.

"Mom is not well." You muttered.

"Oh Y/N." Your sister stood, walking over to give you a hug. "I told you not to go over there. She never meant for us to see her like that."

Her hug was comforting, you gave in, forgetting the fact that you were supposed to be angry with her, then again, she had no clue that you knew about her and Tyson.

"She will always be our mother." She said, pulling you back to wipe your tears. And just like that you were eight years old again, needing your big sister to wipe your tears.

"I've had some trouble with my credit card." You said. "I should probably go to the bank for that, right?"

"Sure. We'll go tomorrow since I have some meetings tod..."

"There's a rehearsal today."

"For your tour?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, a dance rehearsal for all the back up dancers, why?"

"I should probably go to that shouldn't I. To share my opinions on things, right?"

"Um...sure, but like I said I have some meetings to attend today, so if you...."

"It's okay, I can go by myself."

"By yourself?" You sister frowned. You seldom did anything without checking with her first, perhaps that should stop now.

"Ruben will be with me of course."

"Ruben?" Your sister initially looked to want to protest, but change her mind as he came back down the stairs. "Of course." She nodded. "Ruben will go with you."

"I'll call you if I need anything."

"Yes, please do, call me."

You looked to Ruben. "I'll just hop in the shower then I'm ready to go."

He nodded. "I'll notify Taylor to bring the car around."

"Thanks." You smiled, as well as brush his arm with yours on your way up the stairs.

Rehearsal was great. You had never paid attention to the people working around you. It had always been your sister calling the shots,  giving everybody directions. But without her everyone was forced to listen to you and they really listened.

"So the laser will be pointing from that camera and that camera." Your stage director, Alejandro, said.

"That camera?" You turned in that direction, pretending to hold a microphone to your lips.

"Yes and then you'll turn to the other camera before the lasers shoot down from the sealing."

"Why the lasers?" You frowned.

"For the finally? Isn't that you wanted?"

"Um, I'm not sure."

"Your sister made it clear that its what you wanted." He shrugged. "We can remove them if you like?"

"Um...no it's okay. Keep them."

You left rehearsal not knowing how to feel. The start of your tour was so soon and you needed your sister by your side, but how could you ever trust her when she's been lying to your face for God knew how long.

"Shall we get somthing to eat?" Ruben held the door open for you to climb into the car.

"No, I'm not hungry."

Taylor your chauffeur greeted you with a smile through the rare view mirror. A smile which you returned. Ruben stepped in to sit next to him. His face expressed concern as he turned back to look at you.

"Y/N, you have to eat somthing."

"I will, I just need to go to the bank first."

"The bank?" He frowned.

"Yes the bank. Taylor will you take me there?"

You arrived within ten minutes.

"I won't be long." You said, hoping that Ruben would let you go alone.

He didn't.

He held the door open for you to step out and together you made your way into the bank.

After a short wait, a bank representative named Emily greeted you and led you and Ruben to a private office. "I understand your concern, Y/ N" she said, sympathetically. "Let me pull up your account information and see what might be causing this issue."

As you watched Emily's fingers dance across the keyboard, a knot formed in her stomach. The seconds felt like an eternity until Emily's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I... I think I've found the problem," Emily said, her voice filled with astonishment. "It appears that all your money was recently transferred to a foreign account."

Your heart sank, and you exchanged a worried glance with Ruben. "What? How is that possible? I certainly didn't authorize any transfers like that."

Emily nodded in understanding. "I believe you, Y/N. However a signature was authorized electronically. Do you have your phone with you today?"

"Well yes, but no."

"No?"

"No, my phone, old phone, was stolen a couple of weeks ago."

"Stolen?" Emily's lowered her gaze, her eyes looking at you over her glasses.

"Yes. Oh my god what am I gonna do? This can't be happening."

Ruben reached for your hand underneath the table.

"The best thing I can do is freeze you account and make sure no money gets in or out." Emily said. "But I'm afraid the police will have to help you retrieve the stolen money."

You rushed out of the bank, Ruben at your heels.

"Y/N, everything is gonna be alright, you'll get the money back."

How do you know that Ruben? Everything I've earned throughout my entire career, my savings, my savings that my parents put in there for me. Gone, it's all gone. So don't tell me that everything is going to be alright because it isn't."

He pulled you into his embrace right there in the middle of the street,  for everybody to see. If paparazzi showed up now your life would really be over.

"I have to tell my sister." You said, breaking up the hug. "She'd want to know about this."

Ruben nodded. "Of course,  do you need to come with you?"

You shook your head. "No, Taylor will take me back."

Ruben looked conflicted, not wanting to part from you, however you had sent him to replce your computer. With your phone gone and bank account hacked, everything old had to go and everything knew would have to be fire proof and Ruben assured you that he could fix that.

"You went to the bank without me?"

After telling your sister what the bank lady said, you were suprised that this was her first reaction.

"Yes, well it was urgent."

"Y/N,  I told you that I would have gone with you tomorrow. Why would you do this?"

"Are you serious right now? All of my money is gone and all you care about is the fact that I went to the bank without you?"

Your sister's expression mellowed. "You're right." She stepped forward, bringing you in for another hug. This hug wasn't like the one this morning. It was stiff and cold. "Everything is gonna be alright, you'll get your money back."

"That's what Ruben said." You muttered. Your sister grimaced at the mentioning of his name.

"What?"

"I don't trust him." She said.

You chuckled. "You, of all people don't trust Ruben? You're the one that hired him, rember?"

"I know I did, but..."

"But what?" You frowned, because your sister was really not the one to preach about trust.

"Tyson told me that Ruben keeps giving him these looks, looks as if all he wants to do is bash his face in."

"Right." You muttered. Hearing Tyson's name leave your sisters mouth simply made you nauseous.

"I've noticed it too. He cracks his knuckles every time he sees him, Y/N."

"It doesn't matter because Ruben is not the problem here." You said.

"No? Then who is?" Your sister looked terrified.

"Dickonataor 3000."

Her shoulders rose and fell with your answer. "Y/N, don't you think..."

"I know that nerd has got my phone. He's the one messing with my account. We need to find a way to track him somehow. Ruben will find a way."

Your sister stared at you blankly for a minute, like she couldn't recognize the person standing before her. "Maybe you should go to bed? Today must have really sucked for you."

You nodded. "Yes, yes it did."

You needed sleep. Sleep was your friend.

As the moon cast a soft glow upon your bedroom, you nestled comfortably beneath the covers. However you were abruptly awakened by a gentle touch.

"Ruben?" You groaned.

"No baby, it's me."

Your eyes flung open.

"Tyson?"

His lips were on yours. "I heard you had a bad day, let me make it better."

Confused and half-asleep, you pushed him away, struggling to fully grasp the situation.

"Y/N, relax." he whispered, lust lacing his voice.

Startled and groggy, your sleep-addled brain attempted to process his words. "Tyson stop, I'm not in the mood." You pleaded, never ever would you be in the mood for him. Yet, his eyes burned with an unsettling determination.

Pushing aside your obvious feelings of unease, he continued to make advances, his body betraying the desperation of his desires.

"Tyson, get off!"

He wrestled you against the matress, tracing unwanted kisses up your neck.

"Tyson,  I said stop!"

He chuckled.  "What, don't you want me to fuck you?"

No, now get the fuck off me!" You shouted. The last words to leave your mouth before Ruben barged into your bedroom, his face a mask of fury. His voice thundered through the room, "Get off her! Right now!"

Caught off guard and blinded by his own desires, Tyson froze momentarily. But it was the fierceness in Ruben's eyes that eventually jolted him back to reality. However it was too late Ruben was already pulling him off you, dropping Tyson on the floor.

"Ruben wait, stop!"

There was no stopping him. Ruben's eyes were dark, his expression emotionless whilst he pounded his fists against Tyson face, cracking his nose, breaking his jaw.

"Oh my god,  Tyson!" Your sister emerged in the doorway, dressed in her nightrobe. She saw the two men grappling on the floor beneath your bed and started screaming hysterically.

"Please stop it, you'll kill him! Y/N, do something!"

"Ruben please." You pleaded, however his hands just kept smashing into Tyson's bloody face. There was no stopping him. Never had you seen Ruben so angry, so out of control.

"Ruben, please stop it." You cried and that seemed to do it.

He looked to you and then to his bloody knuckles. A low grunt left Tyson limb body that lay beneath him.

"Y/N, I'm so..."

You shook you head. Not wanting Ruben to come any closer to you. He looked both terrified and hurt by this.

"That's it. I'm calling the fucking police!" You sister said, storming out of the room in a tearful rage.

[alphabetbill]

Macabre [ HEMLOCK GROVE ] - Chapter 5

~ description ~

A werewolf whose only skill is running from his fears, a half-upir with no idea of the true darkness lying inside of him, and a girl found alive in the woods months after her mysterious death.

Some secrets in Hemlock Grove should have just stayed buried. In a town that isn't so sleepy after all, monsters of all kinds are wide awake under the surface, crawling their way up.

~ warnings~

This story will contain mature and heavy themes that may involve potentially explicit content, gore and murder, talk of kidnapping and stalking victims, animal death, supernatural/paranormal/religious themes and trauma, any other themes not covered in the general description will probably be tagged here at the start of the chapters that other significant warnings apply to.

A list will be linked here upon completion and upload of each chapter:

Cicada and the Snake

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

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c h a p t e r    f i v e .

Roman Godfrey

<<>>

ROMAN FINALLY UNDERSTOOD THAT JUDE WAS DEAD. It came like a pin drop, like a sudden realisation of something his brain had refused to let him acknowledge before now. It felt much like a sudden jolt, like the ceiling had fallen, like a sudden blow to the gut that ripped the air from his lungs like a parent snatching a toy from a misbehaving child. 

Staring down a tunnel of trees, he felt something shift in his chest, something that squirmed around, rotten and sickly. All of a sudden he didn't want to do this, but Peter was already out of the car and Roman wasn't about to pussy out and leave him to walk this trail alone.

As he got out of the car, lingering at the start of a dingy forest trail, it hit him in the face as though a wall of air had slammed up, begging him to stop, begging him not to go any further into the trees.

He had not been expecting the sadness that came with standing here in this moment, not the terror or the disgust. Somewhere along this trail, his best friend's body had been left to rot. It left him disturbingly interested in a single question- was she still alive when she reached that ditch?

He thought about the dreams, the woods, the torch, the deer. He wondered if she had felt like he did, trapped in place, surrounded by an unseen enemy, unable to run until it was too late. He wondered if it was quick.

He swallowed thickly and followed Peter like a lost dog into the night.

It was just like the dreams.

Pitch black on all sides with the occasional glimmer of town lights over far-off back fences. The reserve trail began on one side of town, and cut all the way through to the other, separating the trailer park from the rest of civilization with a good few hundred metres between, establishing a clear divide between those who belonged and those who didn't. The Godfrey Estate was on a hill, a spectator, floating above it all, removed from everything and always watching. 

The rhythm of the crickets was jangly and distorted as though they were screaming over the top of each other, like a broken record or a scratched CD. The moon was a claw in the sky and not enough light could tear through the foggy pine needle canopy, so they ended up walking in near-complete darkness.

Roman tried to ignore the ball of ice in his gut, the way his skin prickled every time Peter’s flashlight swept through the underbrush.

"So what are we looking for exactly?" he asked, trying to squash out the tremor in his voice.

"Not sure," Peter said again, the same answer he had given the past four times Roman had asked the question but forgot he asked it. "A clue, feeling, sign, scent. Anything that just feels off".

"I don't know about you but this whole thing feels off man," Roman answered as he rummaged through his coat pocket, "might wanna be more specific."

His fingers shook and he almost dropped the cigarette as he lifted it to his lips, fumbling to get the lighter working.

They found the ditch after about twenty minutes. The police tape was gone, but flowers remained there against a nearby tree with a score mark on it. The cheap fake ones that looked nice but meant nothing, not the real ones. Jude didn't even like flowers. They died every time she tried to grow them, she always thought they brought her bad luck. 

The two boys stood up on the ridge and looked down. 

"Fuck!" Roman cursed, stumbling back, his heart in his mouth.

He was staring at Jude's body. 

She was lying on her side, her auburn hair muddy and knotted. Those wide eyes stared back at him but saw nothing anymore, blood spilling, maggots worming through grey flesh. A jagged sob tore from his throat when it flashed into view. 

It vanished when he blinked his eyes open again. Like a glitch, a snag in the folds of reality, she was gone. 

He did not want to blink again.

"You okay?" Peter asked.

"You...you mean to tell me you didn't just fucking see that?" Roman paced, dragging a hand over his face. He sucked on the cigarette, his heartbeat skittering. He wanted out he wanted out. Away from that fucking ditch, away from where he would have to see. 

He felt sick, and his hand fell to his stomach as though to soothe himself. 

"What? See what?" Peter placed his hands on his shoulders as if to shake him out of it. 

"She was here she was-" he gulped. The ditch was still empty when he looked back down. "She was just lying there. For a second I swear to god I saw her."

"I've seen her before too. The first day you dropped me home I saw her sitting in your car," Peter told him. 

They looked at each other in silence.

The shared dreams and the shared visions. 

"Shee-it."

"Shee-it."

Roman and Peter exchanged a tense look before Peter dropped his gaze, searching the ground as though the answers would materialize in the dirt beneath his boots. He moved a few steps away from the ditch and crouched, combing his flashlight over the area, inspecting every twig, every scuff in the mud. Roman kept his distance, standing with his back to the ditch just in case he saw it again.

"The grass is flat right there," Peter said, rising from a crouched position. He jumped down into the ditch, the ridge at about knee height, and stepped up onto the other side where the grass blades were crumpled, crushed in a distinct line that led further into the trees. He gestured for Roman to follow, and he clenched his jaw, hesitating before hopping down and following Peter’s lead.

They didn't go very far along the path of flattened foliage, just far enough that they could still see the path behind them if they turned their flashlights back in that direction. The further they moved, the more far apart the trees seemed to be, the more darkness that swelled between them.

Eventually Peter smacked his flashlight as its beam began spluttering in a weak glow, before it died. 

“It’s dead,” he muttered, shaking it. 

Roman flicked his own flashlight off and back on, but it only gave a dim flash before it went dark too. Both of them stood frozen, his breathing shallow. "Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me," he cursed, anger coinciding with his growing fear.

He strained his eyes, peering into the darkness, but there was nothing—no movement, no sound, just the dense weight of shadows pressing in around them. 

He saw them, outlined only by the moon straggling through the canopy.

A line of deer. They stood silently and still in a small bit of clearing, staring out from between the trees with blank, glassy eyes. Five of them, their bodies rigid, all too aware of the two boys sharing their presence. Beside one of them, standing by a doe's legs was a smaller shape—a small fawn.

Roman took a step back, his heel crunching against a twig, and the animals darted off once again and back into the trees as though that moment of limbo, that moment in which the deer had seemed so grotesquely aware, had never occurred.

They made their way back to the walking trail and the flashlights stuttered to life again, neither of them in possession of the words to explain it as they walked back the way they came. Something in the air was telling them to leave, and for the first time in his life Roman was happy to listen.

When the two of them got back to the car, Jude was standing beside it.

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mmm. not sure how i feel about this one.

[rocketboots564]

OC Info and Mood Board

Here’s a Mood Board and OC Info for a Teen Wolf OC of mine: Enrico Mahealani

Enrico Mahealani: Enrico is a curious, clever, and sophisticated kid, and is a close relative of Danny Mahealani. He moves in with Danny after he decides to move back to Beacon Hills (this is during/after the Teen Wolf Movie). With an obsession for criminology and incredible psychic powers to boot, he excels in criminal investigation and forensic analysis. Despite being an awkward teenager haunted by dead, he strives to use his gifts and skills to become a detective…. even if that means occasionally getting in the way of police work, and dragging Eli Hale into his investigations with or without his permission…. May god rest Sheriff Stilinski’s stressed out soul.

Appearance: Enrico has tanned, moderately brown skin with short, wavy yet slightly spiky black hair. Paired with his dark brown eyes and semi-formal style, he often exudes the look of a private academy student mixed with a scraggly noir detective, even sporting his own overcoat (but no fedora. He’s more of a fisherman’s cap guy anyway)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: 15-16

Height & Weight: 5’10ft / 177lb

Nationality: Hawaiian/Cuban-American

Species: Human Psychic

Powers: communication with the dead, astral projection, semi-clairvoyance, slight magic prowess

Personality: Enrico has a sophisticated yet casual way of presenting himself. Sure, he talks like a debate team mixed with a poetry teacher, but he’s not very outspoken and rather quiet at times. However, he is exceptionally blunt and straightforward, oftentimes getting straight to the point when talking.

Other Info: Enrico is the son of one of Danny’s Cousin. Technically first cousin once removed, which I simplify to just “relative”

He’s known about his abilities from a very young age, but doesn’t mention them due to being sent to several doctors and therapists, all trying to diagnose him. In his words, “Concern arises when you tell people you can see the dead”

Enrico was orphaned, moving in with Danny after loosing his father due to disease. He lost his mother years before in a car wreck.

He occasionally enjoys botany, and likes growing scorpion grasses, as well as tomato plants

Out of all the dead people who communicate with him in Beacon Hills, the ones he connects with the most is Erica, Boyd, and occasionally Derek, who he often sees in small flashes watching over Eli. He wishes to know why they’re so important, and why they continue to show up.

Music: a list of songs that give off Enrico’s vibe

Pursing My True Self - Persona 4

Space Cowboy - Jamiroquai

Heaven - Persona 4

Duvet - Bôa

Qué Será - Willie Colon

Memories of You - Persona 3

Face Claim

Model - Jose Oliva

Source - Ron Reyes on Twitter (fair warning, their photography is rather provocative, but good!)

@fionajames thank you so much for the kind words I’d be glad to tag you in any other posts I make about him.

Some of this stuff you’ve seen already, but I hope you enjoy what’s new