#HE'S MY WEE DARLIN

[bassboosted-moon-chao]

Here he is!

This is Aibo-stin "Gadgetbo" Tamare, or Gadget for short! Named after Inspector Gadget, he's a black Aibo ERS-111 from late 1999. He hasn't been fully tested yet but will be today! Hoping he works right.

[17020]

BLUEPRINT

Soshiro Hoshina is great at following blueprints and maps, always finding his way back to you. Right?

TAGS . . . fluff/crack, clingy Hoshina, reader is called 'beautiful', this is my first time writing for kn8, expect more in the future! dedicated to @nyxypoo , for helping me organize my brainrot, and also to @maruflix , for introducing me to the manga in the first place.

Soshiro "Don't get attached to anyone" Hoshina had finally come to terms with the fact that, in order to sleep he needed warmth; one which only a human could provide.

Which is why he found himself in the wee hours of the morning completely awake, unable to catch a wink of sleep. His fingers desperately tapped over the screen of his phone, typing a message. When he sent it, his attention shifted to the background photo of his chat—a picture of a certain officer watching the sunset on the dormitories' terrace.

SOSHI <3 02:41 When are you cominggg I need you

YOU 02:41 I'm going in rn, I'll be there in 5

SOSHI <3 02:42 I'll get the toolbox then Good luck, sweetheart

Having been sworn to secrecy by Soshiro himself, you could not afford to have anyone find out about your relationship with the Third Division's vice-captain. It could jeopardize your job as a platoon leader, and also put both of your lives at risk. Because gossip flows like an endless river, and could eventually reach higher-ups, or worse, an identified kaiju disguised in human flesh.

You carefully aligned the screwdriver with the last screw left. Twisting it, you took it off and placed it with the other three under your pillow, inhaling deeply before taking off the vent panel and sliding in.

You knew the route like the back of your hand, the flashlight from your phone now deemed as unnecessary, for the amount of times in which you crawled through the Third Division's vent systems exceeded the hundreds. The cameras in the hallways would deem it suspicious if you went to sneak out to Soshiro's room directly, which is why you settled on using the vents.

You crawled and crawled, turning every few minutes until you reached your opening. Poking your head out you saw your boyfriend, waiting for you with open arms.

"Aww, is my little worm ready to be carried?" he cooed, his arms now on your sides as he pulled you towards him. You scoffed at the name, "You call me a worm again and I won't help you ever again."

He tilted his head back as he laughed, heading back to his bed, which had the covers already pulled back. He climbed in and patted the spot next to him, grinning from ear to ear when you laid next to him as he took the opportunity to place his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your waist.

"You've no idea how much I missed ya, darlin'."

"We saw each other in the cafeteria a few hours ago, Soshi" you smiled, your fingers running through his hair. You felt him pout as he whined, stating that a few hours were enough to drive him wild.

"Y'know that's not enough, beautiful."

When you agreed to date the Soshiro Hoshina you knew what you were signing up for. Every breathing moment, the vice-captain had to have his hands on you, whether it was his hand grazing yours during meetings, to him latching on to you in order to sleep.

You were his drug. Plain and simple.

It didn't take long for your boyfriend to fall asleep. Your presence alone was comforting, with your body offering him the peace and quiet that he longed for after a hard day at work. Unbeknownst to him, you took a bit longer to join him in dreamland, as you first had to hear the little sentences your boyfriend murmured here and there while fully asleep.

On tonight's menu? "...jus' wanna... be like this... forever."

Apparently, 'forever' lasted for around... half a day. 'Forever' did not include an incident with a honju, which ended up in you having to stay in the infirmary, after stepping in to help someone from your platoon.

Bed rest was mandatory. Those were the orders given to you by the vice-captain, after all. Having encountered and fought a fungal-type kaiju, he demanded you spend the night in the infirmary, in case there were any issues with spores.

Soshiro eyed the photo on his phone various times, only stopping to check the time. 1:34 am. Good enough, right?

SOSHI <3 01:35 Alright beautiful, I'm going in I think you're gonna have to get up from the bed to let me in tho I'll let you know when I'm there

YOU 01:36 The iv is in my left arm so I'll be good Good luck, handsome!!

The flashlight on Soshiro's phone was on, the photo on his screen displaying the blueprint of the vent system. The trajectory was simple: go straight, then right, then right again, and then straight into the infirmary vents. Plus, it would be way easier for him to recognize, as you promised him you would play some music from your phone for him to know which room it was.

And so, Soshiro Hoshina embarked on what could be the hardest mission of his life. He wondered how you were able to do this every night without fail, then do it again in the morning before the other platoon leaders woke up. He gained newfound admiration for you as he crawled his way into your room, his forehead red from hitting his head against dead ends multiple times.

At last, he found the panel.

There it was, the soft classical music playing in the room. Weird, he thought, Yn never really listens to this type of music. He shrugged it off, believing that it might have been a special signal just for him.

"Psst—hey—special delivery coming through."

Silence. You must have fallen asleep.

"Yn" he whisper-yelled, "Angel, open the vent for me, yeah? It's kinda cramped in here."

No response.

He sighed as he pressed the call button, uncomfortably holding the phone against his ear. When he noticed your phone didn't ring, he assumed it was silenced. The vibrations surely would wake you up, right?

YOU: Soshi, are you here? I don't see you anywhere

SOSHI <3: Angel I'm here, I followed the music—didn't know ya liked classical

YOU: Classical? Baby, I'm playing Ciara.

SOSHI <3: Then whose room am I in?

The moment Soshiro heard the growl of a feline, he ended the call.

SOSHI <3 02:53 HOLY SHHIT I THINK I ENDED UP IN CAPTAIN ASHIRO'S ROOM

YOU 02:53 HOSHINA THAT WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE DID YOU EVEN READ THE BLUEPRINT???

SOSHI <3 02:54 Oh so I'm Hoshina now. You don't love me. Btw I'm stuck and Bakko found me I love you

"Vice-captain Hoshina? Is that you in the vent?"

Soshiro Hoshina swore he had shit his pants.

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [iii]

"your slaps don't stick, your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you can't help but feel like maybe you and tara are more than frenemies, and it culminates in a night where you finally share some truths with each other.

warnings: a somewhat traumatic dream sequence lmao, mentions of sex, kissing (almost), curse words, blood

word count: 5.8k

A/N: hope y'all like this one because i definitely liked writing it. definitely a whole lot more kissing than fisting.... wait a minute....

it's 5 am, my ass is grass. anyways, part 4 relatively soon because woo wee theres still so much to explore in this story i legitimately cant believe my idiot self said it'd be done in 2 parts originally

===+++===

===+++===

"(Y/n)," a voice calls to you, sing-song and sweet as your eyes fade to darkness. It's a gentle woman's whisper, but it manages to hit you like a truck, pulling you down from wherever you came from, and plopping you wherever you've arrived. Or, rather, wherever you've always been. "(Y/n), look, darlin'."

A gust of wind gently strokes over the plane of your cheek, and when you open your eyes, all you can see is rye. On one end, it reaches out towards a sharp cliff, overlooking a lake, with nothing but rocks and the water below. On the other, it runs far up the plains of land in front of you, stopping in front of the white house you know all too well, with its rickety porch and broken tire swing.

You take a few steps forward, as if ready to run right inside, and then before you know it, you're running. Like the world is about to end, like the house is burning down, like you'll never see the place ever again. Foot after foot, you dash towards it, hearing Alisha's piano flit through the front window for the first time in years, and the smell of a pie right along with it. "(Y/n)!" the voice calls again. "Dinner time, kid!"—

But your foot catches on a root, just like it did in your memory, and in an instant, you've fallen down into the rye, with a painful thud, right on your face. You let out a grunt, feeling the dirt on your new, white shirt. The one your mother never let you wear when you were playing outside.

And when you right yourself again, sitting up out of the field, the house isn't any closer than it was before. It sits, perfectly far away, only all that stuff is gone now, and the house looks about as dark as it did the day of Mitchie's funeral.

"(Y/n)!" an excited voice calls from behind you. "Wanna play tag?"

"(Y/n)'s too old for that, Mitchie," another voice chides, and you whip around like Calvin would actually be there to chide him like that. Like he used to. But he isn't. All you can see is the rye. It stands in thick stalks, reaching up to your knees in lush groupings, tall and abundant, strong and growing.

Another voice. "Read me a story?" It's soft and it's a little girl's and it's far away, and you get to your feet and spin in a circle, waiting for her to appear. It seemed to reverberate through your ears, washing through the pathways of your brain before seeping into your heart. It fills it up, and before you know it, you can feel yourself hastily searching for her.

"'Randa?" you called into the open field. "Miranda? You there?" but she continues on like she didn't hear you.

"Would you read me a story? Please?"

"I will Miranda, but where are you?" you called back, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the barrel of the hot sun.

"I'm gone, (Y/n). You're supposed to be gone too," she says back, with a sweet giggle. "Why aren't you gone with us?"

"I—" you stammer, whipping your head around the field in search of your siblings. "I don't—"

"Do you really think that's fair, (Y/n)?" Calvin asks.

"Why aren't you here, (Y/n)?" Miranda asks again, this time her voice wavering like she was about to cry. "Why aren't you in the rye with us?" Your hands came up to your head, trying to squeeze your eyes shut and block out the noises, but they seemed to reverberate into your skull.

"Mitchie was your fault, you know," Peter chides. "We would've never let that—"

"—Why did you get to stay, (Y/n)?" Came Tomas' voice. "We're supposed to be cursed, and you're supposed to be cursed too." He was always the quiet one, but now his voice had a sharp edge to it. One of jealousy. One of anger.

"Why didn't you catch me?" Mitchie asked. "If you just would've caught me..."

"Come play piano with me, I'll teach you," said Alisha, in her light, airy laugh.

"Why did it get to be you?" snarled Calvin. "And why are you getting closer to Tara? You want to curse her, too?"

"Stop—" you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

"Wanna play hopscotch?" said Mitchie.

"Do you miss us, (Y/n)?" Alisha said, in between tears.

"Yes, of course— I—" you tried, but now the voices were filling up your head, threatening to spill over and knocking you to the ground. You curled up into a ball as your brain filled up. Words piling up on top of words, piling up on top of words, about to split you open. "STOP!" you yelled.

And everything went silent. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself still in the field, but your siblings' voices had gone entirely. Now it was just you, in the field, alone with the rustling of the wind and the rye, as it grazed gently against your legs. You hadn't remembered standing up, but you were now.

In a flash, you could see a shape, running through the rye in a line that was very visible from where you were. You recognised the dark hair, and the yellow jacket he always wore. With the realisation came the looming dread, and you realised with very little time left what this exactly was a memory of.

You took off running, faster than you had to the house, faster than you had ever run, and faster than you had run then, chasing after him as he took off towards the cliff-end of your rye field. "Mitchie!" you yelled, trying to be louder than the buzzing cicadas, but it seemed the moment you yelled, the cicadas got even louder. He was too short to see over the stalks, but you could see him go, running in odd shapes as he got nearer and nearer to the cliffs edge.

"Catch me if you can, (Y/n)!" he called back with a gleeful laugh.

"(Y/n), grab your brother," called your mother. She didn't seem too worried, and she hadn't been, then. No one had been, until it was too late.

"Mitchie! Stop!" you cried out, feeling tears already beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Mitchie!" you tried again.

"Come on, you've gotta be faster than that if you're gonna be it!” Mitchie called back. "Catch me! Get me! C'mon! I'm gonna make it hard for you to win, Duck."

"MITCHIE! PLEASE!" you screamed, but all he did was giggle. “STOP! DON’T GO!” But the moment you reached the end of the rye, he was gone over the edge, just he had been when you were 13, and there was an arm shaking you awake.

===+++===

"Oh my god, you're about the least peaceful sleeper I've literally ever seen," Tara laughed, grinning at you from over her textbook. She had it pulled into her lap from her side of the table and titled against the table edge, and spread out in front of you were her papers galore, with notes scribbled all over them in preparation for her upcoming exam.

Mindy sat next to her, playing a stupid game on her phone, while Ethan was also studying in his own textbook. He had stopped trying to avoid you as much, as had Chad. You and Tara "dating" seemed to offend them less and less the longer it went on.

"Uh," you mumbled, still feeling a little bit disoriented from the dream. It was like a dose of adrenaline had been shot directly into your heart, and you struggled to adjust to the calm, peaceful library that actually was around you. "Shut up," you grumbled, but not like you were actually upset by her teasing.

Tara watched you with her eyebrows raised. "You look tired."

You sat up in your chair, running a hand through your hair. There was a small layer of sweat on your forehead. "Aren't you never supposed to say that to someone? Pretty sure that's how you get someone at the bar to throw their drink in your face."

"It is," Ethan nodded. "I made that mistake once. I was trying to be sweet."

"Good thing I'm not seducing you, then," Tara shrugged. "You've seen me puke everywhere. Pretty sure that ruined my chances right-out, and yet you love me anyways."

You grinned, leaning back to stretch out your arms. It was meant to be a gentle teasing from Tara, but you had only gotten better and better at deflecting the longer you were around her. "You'd be surprised, actually. That was super pretty. That was the prettiest you've ever been." Mindy snorted next to Tara.

Tara glared at you, unappreciatively. "And you're pretty when you do not speak."

"I'm pretty all the time, Tara," you mockingly shook your head. "And you think I'm joking. Find yourself a girl who looks nice covered in sweat, with her hair going everywhere, and puking in the toilet. That's my girlfriend."

"You're such a dick," Tara scoffed, but you could tell part of her was stifling a laugh. It was funny to her too, and you both had laughed at it together for days, afterwards.

If anything, it had gotten easier and easier, to act like the both of you were actually dating. You weren't too sure why, maybe Tara had become less annoying, or you had become less annoyed by her, but you had definitely at least become a better actor. That's what it was, after all. "Oh, also," she continued.

"Yeah?"

"Someone tried to call your phone, while you were sleeping. I think it was your dad."

You frowned. "You didn't pick up, right?"

"No," Tara said, shaking her head. Then she paused. She dropped her voice to speak just to you, guarding the conversation from Mindy and Ethan. "Do you and him not get along?"

You shrugged. "Eh. He was probably just checking in. We have a fine relationship." It wasn't true but it was an easy lie, that rolled off the tongue like nothing. He had already called twice, that day, and you knew why.

"Seriously, though," she said with a frown, looking up from her book. "You look fucking horrifying—"

"—Thanks," you said, flatly.

"—I mean, even more than normal, it's crazy—"

"—Thanks," you repeated.

"—Have you not been sleeping, or something?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I'm an architecture major, and it's midterms... so not really."

"Hm."

"What?" you asked, propping your head up on your arm. "What's the 'hm' for?"

She shrugged, trying to turn back to her textbook. "Hm, nothing."

You furrowed your eyebrows down at her. "Well, obviously the 'hm' was something, Tara." Mindy shot you a look again.

"Or it was just a hm."

“Would you two shush,” she said to you, rolling her eyes. “You bicker like an old married couple.” But you both ignored her.

"It's never just a 'hm.'"

"I say hm all the time. It's literally just a hm."

"No, it means you've got something to say but don't want to say it."

She frowned at the accusation but was obviously even more displeased that you were correct. "I was gonna suggest we go to the OBK party tonight, but maybe you should just go home and sleep. I was trying to be nice.”

You shrugged. "I won't be doing either, actually." Tonight was not the night for parties. You were somewhat grateful, that you had a legitimate excuse to busy your time, or else you would've spent even longer thinking about the dream. "I have to do homework. My final is due tomorrow."

Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you. "Wait, but I thought classes ended today."

You shook your head. "Nope. I've still got some stuff do."

"Oh," Tara frowned.

"Not all of us can have easy majors," you teased, trying to lighten the mood away from what was clearly concern.

"Hey! You chose the stupid thing," Tara shot back. "Not my fault I chose something fun." She stood up, gathering her things into a neat stack. The time was nearing for her midterm exam, and you stood up with her, grabbing her textbook to be helpful.

"Thanks," she said, then she wandered over and held out her hand. You grabbed it in yours, lacing your fingers together, just like you had practiced together.

The library was a tall building on the far side of campus from where you lived. It was a trek and a half to get there, which is partially why you had been a little annoyed, when Tara said she needed to go there. It ended up being the perfect place to fall asleep in, with the quiet signs and only a few murmurs now and again, and though it had been a less than peaceful dream, it was more than you had been getting for the past few days.

"I don't see why you can't just go without me," you shrugged, adjusting her book in your hands. "Just tell Sam I'll meet you there. Besides, Chad and Mindy are going to the same party, right?"

"Yeah, but I what if they realise you're not actually there and mention it to Sam, or something? And, I'd have to go there alone, since Chad and Mindy are going early."

"They are?"

"Yeah. Helping with set up. Mindy literally just mentioned that. Shows how much you listen to her.” She shook her head in a mocking disappointment in you.

“I was asleep, jerk.”

“I know,” she said, grinning.

You looked down to her, where she walked next to you, gently swinging your joint hands back and forth. "It's not a far walk to OBK. You could probably make it there in five minutes. It's well-lit, and—"

Tara frowned, shaking her head adamantly. "Not alone. Not without you, no way. Sam would want to see you at the door to pick me up. She'd probably hate the idea of it."

"Fair enough," you shrugged. "Find a movie at home tonight, then. Relax, or something. I'd kill to be done with this stupid project."

"What are you even making?" Tara groaned, breaking your hands to shove hers into her pockets. Actually, it was your jacket, and therefore technically your pockets too, but she had taken a liking to it, after your date. You had been less than pleased, when she asked to borrow it, considering how much the jacket meant to you, but she insisted it was assisting her to keep up the act. You figured you could part with it, at least for a little while.

"Architecture," you said with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tara rolled her eyes at you. She nudged you, and you couldn't help but laugh as her elbow pointed into your side.

"Oh, you think you're funny, huh?"

"I'm hilarious."

"You wish..." she scoffed, shaking her head.

It was a beautiful day in autumn, and the weather was soon to leave the sigh of brown leaves and rainy days and move into whispery winds and icy pavement. You didn't mind winter, but you didn't like the chills, even though it was undoubtedly what gave summer's warmth a certain sweetness. Still, nothing burned like the cold.

You walked her all the way to the door of the exam hall, stopping out front to hand her the textbook you had been carrying. You went to speak, but the moment you tried to open your mouth, your phone started ringing. You grabbed it from your pocket, sighing and declining the call, while Tara stared at you.

"Is that your dad, again?"

"No," you said. "Telemarketer."

"Right..." she said, frowning. "You're a terrible liar."

"Am I?" you challenged. You were, it was true.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?"

“I just don’t.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m asking why, (Y/n).”

"Why don't you leave it alone?" you shot, in frustration. You could see Tara's eyes narrow at your tone, and you felt a bit bad. There was the occasional reflex still, to bite each other's heads off. You weren't sure what it was about her, but something about Tara Carpenter always seemed to rile you up inside, and do the same for her with you.

"Sorry," you said, looking down at your shoes. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"That doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Tara glared.

"Right... I'm... sorry."

Tara sighed. "I guess I'll see you next week?" She asked.

You nodded. "There'll be plenty of time after this, I just need to get this thing done."

"Okay," she nodded, failing to hide her excitement. Tara seemed to really love parties, the more and more she went to, and you were somewhat glad you could help her find something she enjoyed. It was nice to see, not that you'd ever say that to her. Doing that would absolutely result in her teasing you again, or something even more annoying.

"Good luck on your test," you said.

"Good luck on your project, babe," she said, drawing the name out.

“Now who’s hilarious,” you said with an eye roll. Tara winked at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Me.”

===+++===

It seemed you were having no good luck on it whatsoever, actually. Laid out in front of you was all of your materials, in a messy pile of cut-out pieces and foam boards that were there, sure, but not likely to just jump together and put itself together on its own.

The clock had already ticked away to 12:33 in the morning, and your design was barely finalised to where you could get to work and finish quickly. All of the other students had left at a much more reasonable hour, and it left you standing at your table alone, quietly working to classical music in the empty modelling lab.

At this rate, you could be here for another two or three hours, and the project was due at eight. You were sluggish, slowly working through the plans you had set out days ago and working through the kinks.

Every few minutes, when you stopped for even a second, the dream seemed to rush back to the forefront of your brain. Your mother had been the one to call, that evening while you were eating a poor excuse of a dinner, and you had declined that call just like you had declined all the rest.

You were hunched over your work, probably unhealthily so, with your face buried in your iPad, hastily throwing out sketches of the various shapes. You were settling on a design that would have to do, heading for the woodcutter, when you heard a noise.

It resembled a door shutting, and you froze right where you were. "Greg?" you called out. There was no one else in the building except for you and Greg, at his usual security post, and you waited with bated breath for him to return your call.

But there was no response, and all you could hear was the sounds of classical music gently floating in the background. Usually, it set you at ease while you worked through whatever you were doing in the lab, but now all it did was raise your heart rate to match the increasing tempo. It was completely dark, except for the overhead light above you, which illuminated the table you were working at and a few of the stainless steel cabinets that held tools and supplies.

Then, off to the side, you heard a rolling. An odd, wooden rolling, slowly drifting towards you. On the ground was a pencil, gently pushed towards you, playfully rolling as if perfectly in front of your toes. You hopped to your feet. "Hello?" you called, squinting in the dim light, in case anyone else was there. "Is anyone there?" you called out again. "Greg?"

Now you could really feel the thumping of your heart. The modelling lab had always been creepy late at night, but this was a new level of unease. It was as if someone was watching you, playing with their food, and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "Is someone there?" you said to the rest of the room.

"Hey!" said a voice, and you jumped what felt like five feet into the air.

"Fuck!" you shouted, spinning around and seeing Tara behind you. She jumped at your reaction, raising her hands up. In one of them was a tray with two coffees on it. “You scared me!”

"Woah, woah, are you okay?" she asked, face etched with concern. She walked towards you slowly, and you put your hands on the edge of the table, trying to calm yourself.

"Don't just sneak up on me like that, dude," you glared at her.

"I literally didn't, I fucking announced myself, loud as can be," Tara said, rolling her eyes at you. Then, it melded into concern. "How long have you been here?" she asked, looking around the place and its emptiness.

"Since I left you at your test," you shrugged. "How'd it go by the way?" Tara's eyebrows furrowed, ignoring your question instead for one of her own.

"Did you at least eat dinner, or something?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Good."

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, turning back to your work. “How did you know where I was?"

“I asked Chad. He’s still a little snippy with me about, well, thinking we're together. Tried to tell me that if anyone would know, it would be me, and I said, yeah, that’s true, but it’s only been three months, now.”

“Well,” you said, gesturing around to the lab. “This is the modelling lab.” You were a bit of a nerd about the whole place, showing it off like it was your cool superhero lair.

“I know,” Tara mocked. “I saw it on the giant sign above the front door.”

“Ha ha. Does Sam know that you’re here?” You asked, grabbing your pen and resuming your work while you continued to talk to Tara. She plopped herself down on the edge of the table, letting her feet swing.

She looked a bit sheepish at the question. “Uh… no.”

“You know she’ll kill me like she did that one time, if you’re not home when she wakes up,” you frowned, wandering over to the supplies and grabbing out a box cutter to help trim the pieces you needed.

Tara nodded. “I know. But I snuck out, so I’ll sneak back in.”

You turned back around to reply, maybe say something stupid, but you had to stop yourself from laughing, when you saw her legs hanging off the counter and not reaching the ground.

“What?” Tara asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head and returning to the table. “…Dwarf.”

“Hey!” she said, smacking you on the arm. “I brought you coffee, don’t make me take it back.”

“That’s true,” you frowned, weighing your options. “Guess I can’t make fun of you; you brought me caffeine.”

“That’s more like it."

You worked in silence for a few minutes, feeling Tara watch your every movement. It was harder to work, under her scrutiny, but you were grateful that she was there. It wasn’t lonely in there, any more. A few months ago, you would’ve hated her guts for sitting around while you attempted to work. But not with Tara anymore. Not on that day.

“This might be an all-nighter,” you warned, sending her a small smile as you sliced a piece of foam in half and went to work to attach it to your board.

“Fine with me,” Tara shrugged. She just continued to watch you, in a calm silence. “Actually, I have beef with you,” she hummed.

You laughed, looking up while you secured the base with glue. “Why’s that, Tara?”

“You got that song, stuck in my head.”

“Which one?” You asked.

“The one you sang for me. I found it online.”

“Which one?” you teased, smiling again. Your face was tired and the smile certainly didn’t help, but you couldn’t help the newfound peace washing over you again. You had completely forgotten the weird happening from earlier.

“You know, don’t play dumb.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I really don’t know.”

“You literally do,” Tara scoffed.

“Sing a little bit. Refresh my memory.”

“Nuh uh,” she said, crossing her arms. “This is a trap.”

“It isn’t,” you insisted, sticking your pinky out to her. “Swear.”

She wrapped it in her own, rolling her eyes. She definitely knew it was, but she obliged anyway. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a strangerrr. You know in the end,” her voice broke on the low note like yours did, and you laughed while heat rose to her cheeks. “I’ll always be thereeee.”

“And when you’re in doubt,” you sang back to her, in between laughs. “And when you’re in dangerrr.” You both were tone deaf and the rendition was awful, but the mood in the lab was getting lighter and lighter the longer you were together.

“Take a look all around,” Tara sang, coming back in. “And I’ll be there.”

It was impossible not to laugh at how bad it was on both sides, and you grinned at her toothily, before turning back to your work. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome, idiot,” she teased, nudging you in the side again.

===+++===

You went back to working on your model, finishing the first floor in about an hour. You and Tara occasionally talked now and again, but mostly she just watched you while you worked. “Why are you doing this all tonight?” she asked.

“Uh…” you stuttered. “I didn’t have time the past couple weeks…cause of… well, you.”

She shot up to her feet, mouth dropping open. “Why the hell didn’t you say no to me?! I didn’t know you had all this to do.”

You shrugged. “I never mentioned it. Plus, you were having fun. I’m glad someone was enjoying themselves.”

“Oh…” she said, and it sounded small.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“…Nothing."

“It’s fine, Tar. Seriously.” She blinked at you.

“Tar?” she asked, looking amused.

You looked up from your work, feeling the change in the atmosphere. “What?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just never used the nickname for me, before.”

“Yeah, I guess not. Is it weird?”

“Well… no. I kind of like it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding a little. “My mom was the one who gave me the nickname Tar. Haven’t spoken to her in a little while, though.”

“Do you still miss her?” you asked, glueing your second story onto the base successfully.

“Sometimes…” she trailed off, staring out at the pitch black night through the window that hung over your workspace. "She calls me once in a while."

"Do you answer?" you asked.

"No," she admitted. "It's usually about Woodsboro. I gave up on her a few months ago, but she still calls sometimes about the town."

"You never talk about it..." you comment, trailing off with a hand on the back of your neck. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." You leaned back against the table with a curiosity, watching her face move as she struggled to answer.

"Well... it's cause I don't want to that I don't talk about it. You know how people say that shit about manifesting happiness?" you nodded, knowing what she was talking about. "Well, I keep saying I'm fine, and I'm moving on, but it just keeps following me everywhere. It's like this chronic cough I can't shake. This constant thing. No matter how much I run, it's always there. People don't see me as anything but one of the survivors."

You swallowed, feeling her words hit you. "I know what you mean." Tara's eyes snapped down to yours, but when you didn't volunteer more information, she sighed.

You frowned, turning yourself back to your work and hunching over, so she wouldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “I, uh… I listened to that song you said you liked, too.”

“You did?” she asked, lighting up at the mention of it.

“Yeah… added it to my playlist… so…”

“So…” Tara laughed, amused by your awkwardness. It was somehow less awkward when you hated each other. The fact you could tolerate each other now was unusual but not unpleasant, and you still found yourself grappling with how pretty Tara’s eyes looked in lamplight. "If I get a nickname, you absolutely have to have one too."

You scoffed. "That's not at all what that means."

"You had to have had one at some point."

"No, I haven't had one," you said.

"Liar!" Tara said with a giggle, pointing at you with her finger. "You're so bad at lying it's remarkable. Now spill. What is it?"

"I'm not lying!" you insisted, but now you were laughing and it was even less convincing.

"C'mon, promise I won't say it in public— unless it's really bad."

You stared at her for a moment, when she clasped her hands together in a begging plea.

"Please?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pleaseeee?"

"Fine," you sighed. "My family, they used to call me Duck."

"Duck?" She asked, leaning back to look at you as if the nickname would re-contextualise your entire appearance. "Where'd that come from?"

"It's dumb. I used to wear this yellow raincoat when it was storming outside and these orange booties, so my little brother Mitchie saw me, when he was like five or six, and said I was a Duck. And so I was Duck."

She smiled at you, genuinely pleased with the explanation. "That's adorable. Where is Mitchie, tonight?"

You opened your mouth but shut it. Then, you opened it again. "Probably watching cartoons, or something. Back in Nebraska." (A/N: my ass genuinely did not know that was a U.S. state until right now)

You couldn't tell her that today was the day he had died, several years ago. That a year or two before that had happened, Calvin had gone, and a few months before that, Tomas and Alisha had passed too. That Peter had gotten sick, or that Miranda had gone missing before any of that mess had happened. That you were the only one left.

It was a bad lie, and probably one you would regret later, but it was one you ushered past, and Tara didn't seem to pick up on. From one cursed person to another, you figured it was probably best that you keep your own curse to yourself. It's part of what had made you hate Tara so much at first. She walked around knowing her days were likely numbered, so carefree and careless. And then there was you, you who was so careful in order to keep living.

But you couldn't resent her for that. It had melted away with seeing the Tara underneath. The real, beautiful Tara underneath.

"Duck is good, though. I'll bring it out when I want to embarrass you," Tara smiled, inching closer on the table.

"Yeah?" you grinned back at her, standing up to gently tap against the glue. It was set, and your model was finally finished at 4:42 in the morning. Tara leaned close, watching the glue with her own eyes, cheek almost up against yours in curiosity.

You finished the thing, looking over at her and her large, warm brown eyes, staring at the model you had made with so much curiosity and genuine interest. Tara hadn't lifted a finger to help, but you couldn't help but feel like it was partially hers.

You went to pull back but found your face turning towards hers, looking at each other for a long moment. Your eyes lingered on the slope of her nose, down to the curvature of her soft lips, turned up in the corners like Tara always did when she smiled. They looked so soft, and before you knew what was happening, you could feel Tara's hands coming up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently stroking against the skin there.

You couldn't breathe, feeling the warmth of the pads of her fingers on your face and the faint brush of her breath upon your nose. "Tara," you whispered. The pull was magnetic, and just as you were about to say to hell with it all, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and you both leapt apart from each other.

You wandered a few feet away, trying to seem busy while she answered it. You could feel Tara watching you while she spoke on the phone, so you did your best to hide the blush that was certainly spread wide across your cheeks.

This was the very girl you had spent the past several months hating. You suddenly felt dizzy, like the world would slip out from under your feet. Tara, the very same annoying girl who had pestered with you and bickered with you. The one who had so much more to her that what you had ever thought possible. The one who drew you in. The one in search of a hook up, for which you were only the decoy. You cleared your throat, whipping around when you heard Tara say "What?!"

"What's wrong?" you asked. "What's going on?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at you like she was about to cry. "They're questioning Sam again. They think Ghostface is back."

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN anyways my ass is going to bed now. also i do not recommend anyone lie to someone they're interested in about who they are, ESPECIALLY an attempted murder victim

[hoshigray]

Okay, here's the problem: this ask was sent to me earlier last week, and I responded to it. However, my dumbass realized hours after I posted that anon meant an nsfw thirst...I'm such a big dummy; please forgive me!!! So yeah, I deleted/archived the reply prior since it contained fluff, and here we are, rewriting a different scenario!!

A/n: Anyways, I hope y'all like this one, and happy jjk s2 release!! My friends and I are gonna be screaming at the top of our lungs throughout the entire episode :3 My hubby Toji is coming home, y'all!!!

Cw: Toji x fem! reader - minors DNI - sexual acts in a public area (grocery store) but no intercourse - grinding - breast fondling + nipple play - biting (Toji nibbles on your ears) - pet names (baby, darlin', kid, princess) - reader being a lil minx, but Toji gets ya back :3 - outside party intrusions, but y'all don't get caught - itty-bitty-tiny bit of degradation (just Toji calling your actions "whore-ish").

Wc: 1.3k

"Mmm, Y/n...Baby..."

"Mhmm?"

"Can I ask why you're grinding y'r ass on me in the middle of the snack aisle?"

The devilish smile on your lips curves up, only answering with more sways of the hips on the older man's groin, resulting in a groan suppressed by him. "What's to ask?"

It's 3 a.m.; everyone should be at home sleeping, getting ready for another day tomorrow. That's what was supposed to happen. But before you could even make it to your bed, you realized you had forgotten to grocery shop earlier today.

In a rush, you grabbed an oversized hoodie to cover up your chest and shorts and headed to the front to put on some shoes. Your boyfriend — Toji — was finishing up watching something on your television before crawling in bed with you. But plans changed when you told him you were going to the 24-hour open grocery store down the street to grab some things, prompting the man to come with you on your walk.

So now you two are in said store, pushing your cart up and down the aisles, grabbing whatever items you need based on your list. And things were going well and smoothly in the first half. That is until you arrive at the snack aisle.

Toji wanted to come to the aisle to grab some chips to leave at your place whenever he comes over — as if he already lives with you. But you don't mind and let the older man grab his snacks while you lean on the cart's handlebar, scrolling on your phone.

When he does grab the packaged item, he comes from behind to place it in the cart. And it's then you feel his jean-covered pelvis brush up on you, the zipper sliding on your shorts.

It's enough for you to stop looking at your phone and think fast, returning the favor by grinding your ass onto his groin. It was an unexpected move on your part as your boyfriend tenses at the action, but you only giggle and faux interact with your phone.

And that's how you ended up here; you pushing your ass onto Toji in a grocery store in the wee hours of the morning. You'd have to admit that you were enjoying tormenting the poor man as he's staying composed behind you, but his big hands gravitate to the dip of your hips to keep you close.

"How're you feeling back there?" You tease the man with playful banter, rocking your hips to create more friction against Toji's pelvis.

The man groans behind you, slowly grinding his hips with yours in unison. "Mmmm, you think y'r so fuckin' sly, huh, kid? Don't think I won't take these shorts of yours clean off and fuck you right here."

You cock a brow at his threat, but that's all it is: a threat. "Oh? Is that so?" You snap your ass right onto his crotch, where you can feel a tiny implication of an erection coming up. Toji hisses and bends down to your ear. "I'm up for that challenge, sir."

"Heh, actin' all whore-ish in the middle of public." His gruff voice in your eardrums gets you turned on even more. "Talkin' all high and big for your own good, princess."

You snicker to yourself and nibble on your bottom lip as you feel him bring a hand to the waistband of your shorts and slide them down slowly.

But the moment is ruined when something in your peripheral moves, causing you to straighten yourself up immediately. Toji is forced to do the same thing due to your immediate change, following where you're looking to see someone come from the corner and enter the aisle — an older woman in her pajamas and a coat.

You cough to clear your throat and act like you're looking at your phone. And Toji sneers, watching you pull back just because another person has entered the space. Hmph. So much for bein' up for a challenge.

The woman sees you two as she ascends in your direction, stopping her tracks by the side of your cart. "Oh my, I thought I was the only one here! What's a pair like you two doing out here in the late hours?"

You reply. "Oh, I could say the same for you, miss! I forgot to do my shopping earlier, so we're here doing it last minute."

"Hmm, I see. I'm in the same boat as you. My kids are supposed to go on a field trip, and I completely forgot all about it! It's tomorrow of all days, and I didn't even have the faintest idea of what to do for their lunches! So, here I am looking through..."

Toji doesn't listen to the woman chatter herself up with you because now he has the perfect distraction. While you give the other your attention, the older man slides a hand inside your his hoodie from behind, and you jerk at the sudden contact of his cold, rough fingers. Oh, you bastard...

"...figured sandwiches would be the best bet for a field trip lunch. Don't you think?"

"Hmm?" You realize the older woman asked you a question, your mind too preoccupied with Toji's hand sliding up your body. "Oh yes, sandwiches should do just fine for a field trip! Perhaps you can pack some chips to go with them."

"Ahh, you're right! I didn't think about that, but what kind of chips exactly?"

"I'd say your best bet would be the big bag filled with an assortment of chips, that way your kids can pick whichever they would like to ta—gasp!"

You're caught off guard by an abrupt grasp on your chest. Toji had his hand now on your breast, his large hand effortlessly cupping the soft mound and fondling it under the hoodie.

Attempting to shield yourself from the other woman, you rest your elbow on the handlebar and slightly turn to your side. You then give your boyfriend a mean look which is only received with a smug grin.

Oblivious, the woman asks in concern. "Are you alright, darling?"

Toji is the one who answers in your place. "Yeah, they're fine. Just a lil headache from stayin' up a too late." His disingenuous response comes out with no hesitation, the perfect lie.

"Aww, poor thing." The other shows sympathy for your false condition. "Well, I'll get going so I don't keep you up longer than you should. Thanks for the help, and drink some chamomile or peppermint tea for your headache!"

"Mmmph! I-I will! Thank you, miss!" You reply before the woman goes on her way, unaware that your whimpers failed to be bitten down as Toji grazed your nipple between his fore and middle finger.

When the woman is on the other side of the aisle, Toji leans down to your ear once more. "Like I told ya, talkin' all high and mighty for your own good."

"Shut up," you bite back, your moans coming through shivers when Toji slides his free hand to grope the other breast left unattended, putting you through more of your clandestine torture.

"Heh, I gotta do something 'bout that smart mouth of yours, brat." Toji bites on your ear, and you're quick to bring a hand to cover up any shrieks that risk leaving your mouth. His hoarse voice slides like honey into your ears, and the throbbing sensation between your legs worsens. "You're the one who was antagonizing me earlier."

"Haaah, mmm, okay, okay, I'm sorry." You hoped your pleas would stop the man from tweezing the hardened tips of your breasts so harshly, but his fingers don't stop as your hands find purchase on his jeans.

As Toji hums low to your ear, he kisses your neck while grinding against you. "Ya know, I was thinkin' of just headin' straight to bed after this. But now," his hands knead your tits in a way that has you almost melting into his hold, lucky enough to have his leg between yours to keep you steady.

"Since you wanna play like a damn kid, I'll make sure you don't get a wink of sleep when we get back, darlin'."

[macfrog]

walking through fire | one shot

just something that's been on my mind the last few weeks. i hope that you're all ok going into this difficult time of year. and if there's any part of this, big or small, that you find yourself resonating with - there will always be a warm, cozy chair in my inbox/dms, free for you to come sit, hang; we can talk about everything or nothing at all. love you guys. 🤍

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you’re neck-deep in a bout of seasonal depression. your boyfriend suggests an autumnal walk. (better than most healthcare systems offer amarite)

warnings: quite literally about depression & anxiety so please read at your own discretion. established relationship, fluffy soft!joel takes care of his girl, implied suicidal thoughts, use of medication to treat depression/anxiety, feelings of worthlessness/burdening, but hope! in the end! a wee sliver of hope!

word count: 2.7k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🖤

November turns on itself all too quickly.

Your body feels like lead, sinking deep into the mattress. Like a broken, rusted shipwreck at the bottom of the ocean; your hand lying limp above the bedsheets like a sailor’s last attempt at reaching over the waves for help.

Joel opened the blinds today. Nuzzled into you, the scruff of his beard sharp on your numb skin, and then stood up and slowly unveiled the glaring light of white cloud. You shrunk further into the bed, your hot breath suffocating you under the sheets. Inhaling and exhaling, breathing in your own rotten air.

He pushes the door open and shuffles across to the bed. Your sea dips when he lowers into it, two arms slipping around your waist like a lifebuoy. He pulls you into his chest; his warm body melting the ice of your bones.

“Hey,” he whispers, and drags his nose across your cheek. He kisses your temple, combs his fingers through your hair. Dabs his thumb along your bottom lip and then says again, “Hey, darlin’. You awake?”

Your eyes flutter open, only enough to see the blurry shape of him; the strong curve of his shoulder, the binary of dark cotton and pale skin.

“Hi, baby. How you feelin’ this mornin’?”

The words catch on the dry cliff of your throat, dangling for a few seconds like panicking climbers, before plummeting into the abyss. You settle for an incoherent mumbling, a vibration on your lips that Joel understands through the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah,” he sniffs, “not so good, huh? That’s okay. You know how much I love you?”

And that peels your eyes open a fraction more. Only enough to sharpen the image of him, to find the dark pools of his eyes and the way the flame in them flickers as he says it.

“Love you so much,” he whispers. The tiny fire thaws the very bottom of your heart, even if only enough to keep the blood pushing heavily through your veins.

Your eyes close over again, and you take his shirt in two weak fists, pulling yourself into his body. Your head fits in the crook of his arm, burying into his side.

“You feel like leavin’ the house today?” he asks, voice sweet and earnest. “Just for a little while? We could go for a walk, could go for a drive. Just you ‘n me, sweet girl.”

You shake your head, your eyes prickling from the sincerity of his question. The guilt beginning to creep its way over your shoulders.

“No? You don’t wanna?” He lifts his head, staring out at the view from the window. “’s a nice day out. Cold, but it’s dry, ‘n the leaves are all orange and yellow, just like you like. Not even for a half hour?”

That same guilt – sneering, bullying – pokes a sharp-clawed finger in your ribs until you answer him. “Tired,” you mumble, screwing your eyes shut until you see the sudden, violent assault of stars in your vision.

“I know you’re tired, baby,” Joel says, stroking your back. “But it might do you a little good to get some fresh air. And you’d be with me, and we can come back home whenever you decide.”

Your fear and shame seem to cower beneath his words; melted by the soft timbre of his voice. They retreat inward, burrowing deep between the cage of your ribs, twisting and mangling around your pale bones.

“We can come back whenever?” you whisper, defying their threats.

“Whenever, darlin’. Promise.”

You surrender yourself, letting him take you in his arms and carry you over to your closet, where he sets you down gently. Keeping an arm around your waist, Joel waits patiently as you pick an outfit, and then helps drape it over your frame. You feel more statue than human – solid substance rather than plush flesh. Cold and brittle; the tender touch and lively glow drained from your skin the same way it drains so quickly of energy.

You’ve been fighting for years. Months and months and months of one step at a time and just keep going. Being told you’re more than what’s going on in your brain, being told not to let it become you. But there are days when you stand before the mirror, and you don’t recognize the figure staring back at you. The dark tunnels in place of eyes, the thin line of her lips.

There are days you can see the marks on your skin from how tight your anxiety and depression bind you; wrapping like ivy around your body until there’s nothing left of you to see through the dark green leaves. Just a haggard, shapeless thing. A skeleton too tired to carry the weight of yourself; a heart too weary to beat in time.

There once existed a time you had smiled, even laughed – you know it, you have the lines scored deep into your cheeks to prove it. Sometimes they ache when you think about it, like even they miss the feeling. Joel knows it, too – you sense it whenever he tells some dumb joke, sense that he’s searching your face for the slightest lift, the slightest dip of a dimple. And it fucking kills you, when you realize you have nothing sincere or true to offer him. No swollen cheeks, no flash of teeth. At best, a heavier exhale pushed from your nostrils.

It all feels so long ago, that lighter, fresher, happier you. It feels so far from your clutches. Like you’re drifting further and further from the surface, disappearing into the murky depths of your own mind.

The doctors, the articles, the fucking motivational posts on Instagram all say the same. Keep fighting it. Confront your illness. Prove it wrong. But you’re so fucking tired of fighting. Fighting it the entire drive to work, your heart threatening to burst; fighting it every conversation you have, your façade slowly cracking. Swallowing the panic like you swallow the medication; both of them sticking in your throat and refusing to go down.

There is no fighting it. There is no overcoming through confrontation. If you broke your leg, shattered every bone to dust, would they say the same? You gotta walk on it straight away to make it strong again. You don’t think so.

Joel doesn’t seem to think so, either. Joel, with a heart of molten gold, ready at every turn to let it pour onto your skin and paint it the color of sunlight when you can’t do it yourself. Joel, with his strong arms and wide reach, bundling you up over the top of all that foul ivy and snapping its thick stems with just his fingers.

Joel, who will sit at the edge of your bed and watch you take your meds; kiss your forehead and squeeze you tight when you show him your empty mouth. Joel, who will hold you in the dead of night and tell you stupid stories about his brother when they were kids, rubbing your back and chasing the dark ghosts from your mind.

Joel, who still sees something in you – whether he’s imagining it or not – and decides each day that it’s worth protecting. Worth saving. You’re worth saving, even on the days you don’t believe it yourself.

He drives for ten minutes, a little out of the suburbs and into a thicket of fire-colored leaves and solid, frozen ground. Fall sinks its teeth deep into the roots of the earth, drying up the bloom of summer and replacing it with something harder, something tougher. Nature is dying in the November breeze – the amber leaves painted the color of the trees’ blood as they fight a losing battle against the shifting of time. You feel yourself decaying with it: a drawn-out, painful surrender to the bleak days and dark nights.

Joel keeps his hand on your thigh the entire ride; you keep your fingers intertwined with his. The fluttering in your chest gets quicker and quicker, spreads its wings wider the further you feel from home. Your mouth dries up, forcing you to swallow after every third breath. But his hand stays there, planted on you like the root of an ancient tree: never shifting, no matter how strong the wind throws punches.

A shaky breath falls from your lips when he slows to a halt, the truck parked by a long wooden gate. He cuts the engine and turns to you, squeezing your leg lightly.

“We’re just gonna walk down there,” he nods out the window, “and back again. As slow as you like, ‘n we turn back when?”

“Whenever I want,” you whisper, nodding.

“Whenever you want, darlin’. Just say the word, alright? Sound good?”

You nod, blinking away the strain of tears across your vision. Your knee bounces, the metal buckles on your boots clinking in the footwell.

Joel rubs his thumb against your cheek. Lifts your free hand and places a delicate kiss to your knuckles. “I am so proud of you,” he mumbles against them, like scoring it into the bone.

You fill your cheeks, flattening your lips together, and he pulls on his door handle.

Five paces from the car, you realize how cold it is. The bitter air snaps at your cheeks, drags the salty tears from your eyes. Joel quickly fixes the collar of your jacket and pulls your scarf over your face.

“You bring gloves?” he asks.

Your head shakes in response.

“Here.” He fishes in the pockets of his tan jacket for a dark brown pair, flicking his fingers for you to hold your quivering hands out. He slips them on, all too big for you, and then knots his fingers through yours and leads you on down the sloping backroad.

Bordered by tall trees on either side, you feel secluded and hidden from the rest of the world. It fills you with equal parts comfort and terror: nobody else is here. No one can see your vacant eyes, the wet stain of fallen tears on your cheeks. Not the vice grip you have on your boyfriend or the weak quiver of your voice.

And at the same time: nobody else is here. No people, no sign of life. Just an isolated track, the looming trees overhead, the squelch of muck and the bite of fall for company.

Joel matches your pace, strolling along by your side with your arm through his and his hand resting on top of yours. He catches your glances over your shoulder, sees the jittery movements of your head as you scan the scene around you, and pats the back of your hand tenderly.

“Take a deep breath for me.”

You fill your lungs with a chilly gulp of air, pushing it back out again as steadily as you can.

“And again.”

You repeat the exercise, your chest swelling against your buttoned up coat.

“You’re doin’ great,” he says, looking down at you. “You feelin’ okay?”

“I’m – Yeah, I’m just…” you twist back to search for the wooden gate, “…can’t see the truck anymore.”

“’s right there, promise ya. You wanna go back?”

He pauses, and your boots scuff to a halt on the stony terrain. You chew the inside of your cheek, eyebrows arching to release more tears from between your lashes. “No,” you breathe, “I wanna try to go further.”

“Then let’s try to go further. Yeah?”

You nod, setting off when you realize he’s waiting for you to take the lead.

The fields on either side of you are strung with a thick blanket of mist from one end to the other, masking the trees at the opposite side and obscuring the line between earth and sky. Your body close to Joel’s, your heartbeat attempting to match the steady pace of his, you feel safe, protected. The promise that you can call it a day whenever your body begins to weigh too much, whenever your lungs begin to falter.

Somewhere between the thinning of the hedgerows, another slanted, shabby gate materializes. Its crisscross panels and worn wooden posts separating you from the first company in your twenty-minute walk.

“Joel,” you call, loosening your grip on his arm and wandering over to the long, dewy grass towards a chestnut horse, a sliver of white fur diving deep between her eyes.

She slowly thumps over, huge hooves sinking deep into the soft dirt. Her long tail swishing, navy rug wrapped around her midriff. She docks at the gate, puffing a heavy breath – hot, thick clouds shooting from each nostril.

“Hi,” you say quietly, lifting a floppy-gloved hand for her to sniff. “Joel?” you say again, glancing down at her swollen belly, the low droop of the rug. “I think she might be pregnant.”

She tosses her head up, ears flicking, and nuzzles into the soft material of Joel’s glove. You feel her wrinkled muzzle, the strong, solid bridge of her nose. She blinks slowly; huge, deep brown eyes twinkling in the late-morning light, and you swear she’s trying to communicate something to you.

“Hey, girl,” Joel says, running a careful hand down her mane.

The horse sighs serenely, eyes flitting between the two of you. Her nostrils flare gently, light brown lashes fluttering. You tilt your head, stroking her and letting her teeth graze the sleeve of your jacket. Her bulky head turns to-and-fro, glancing up and down the trail you’re stood on, contently waiting for the passage of time. Enjoying her view from the misty field before it all changes again.

Unexpected and unwelcome, the absence of compression in your chest suddenly makes itself known. Dread spills into your lungs, thick like tar. You turn on your heel and cast Joel one fleeting glance.

He catches it, and without missing a beat, asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Is that okay?”

“’s more ‘n okay, baby. You did so good today. Didn’t she?” he asks the horse, who huffs another hot breath. Joel tosses a thumb towards her. “See?”

You step back over to the animal, now preparing to wander back on home, and give her one last tender stroke. She blinks twice, tosses her head a final time, and her broad body turns, thudding off back up the slope.

As he links your arms again, Joel blinks down at you, the corners of his mouth slowly lifting.

“What?” you ask, shyly.

“Look at you,” he says, nudging your shoulder with a glint in his eye. “You’re smilin’.”

Autumn flashes by as Joel drives you home – ginger and bronze and honey and cinnamon blurring into one as you pass them by. You settle back against the headrest, moving with the sway of the truck, your tired fingers tracing blind shapes on Joel’s palm.

Nature is burning. Perhaps dying is too harsh a term. Burning in preparation for the winter, when it will lay dormant and restful. Quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your feet. Bland, save for the sparkle of frost on your windowpanes. The droplets of beauty laced through, the little reminders that not all has been lost.

I am burning right now, the earth says, but wait until you see what I can become.

The days will turn to night. The sun will tear the sky to tatters, set the whole thing fucking ablaze, go down in a battle stained in red and orange and deep, dark blue – and she will still return, spilling golden all over the horizon. She always does.

The clouds will cover overhead, dampening the color on earth. The blues will fade to gray, the yellows will undoubtedly pale. And then the sky will clear, when it is ready; the clouds will break in two to let a ribbon of cerulean burst through.

The leaves will fall to the ground and feed the soil; new ones will sprout from buds left in their wake. The ground will thaw, will soften again in time to welcome the push of daisies and burst of heather. The horse will foal, the birds will sing to their babies, the buzz of insects will irritate your ears; the rivers will gush and the trees will sway and you will be okay again.

You will be okay again.

[semperamans]

your anon here. QUICK. don’t imagine benny coming home to his girl a little drunk. and he’s sheepish abt it, but he gets in beside her and she’s still awake. she went out to the beach with her brother that morning and boy, is she sunburned. benny can’t help but smirk.

hi sweet darlin'! we need an emoji for you or some kind of identifying thing so i know when my fave person comes in my inbox!!

"mm, benny?" your voice is coated with fatigue and, what's that? strawberry wine? he thought he heard the slight blurring of letters on your tired tongue. you smell like summer: sunscreen and salt water and sweat but beneath that benny can smell himself on you, a likely product from what transpired in the wee hours of morning, and it drives him wild. "s'me, doll. don't worry." and you look anything but worried. you're sprawled across his bed wearing that tiny little sleep set with the too big straps that slip down your shoulder and he's just a man. just a man in love with you. and when you raise your head from the pillow and give him that sleepy little smile and that look like he's the only person you want to see, well, he's glad he's already on his knees. crouched next to the bed, arms folded, cheek resting on his bicep, you can't help but think he's the sexiest, cutest thing you've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. "come snuggle," you murmur, flinging out a hand, carefully pressing your index finger to the tip of his button nose. "you're too cute," you tell him. "gotta cuddle you or i'll die this instant." and benny is smirking because it's never just a cuddle with you, but that's okay, he'd love a repeat of love you made just that morning. "lemme shower, baby. then i'll take you up on that offer."

[rinstaro]

OMGOMGOGMI HIIII

I MISSE DYOU SMMMM

I’m so happy ur back and and I js wanted to let u kno ur so strong bestie! <3333

now, I have but a wee thought I would like to share. An offering, if you will.

late night sleepy cuddles with sky (or really any of the boys tbh) and they sneak their hand into them Panties and start mindlessly making you cream but you can’t do anything about it because they have you in a death grip and your writhing and your legs are shaking and omg- and they just did it cause they felt like it. they were just like “omg ur literally so cute now cum you whore”

anyways that’s what’s been happening in my crusty little rat brain lately

k bye! <333

-💫

oh. you missed me? oh that makes me so happy !!!!!!!

i like this offering!!!! imma do sky and just a short twilight for this <33 thank you star

cw: overstim, mean boys, twilight is sweet but he’s really not, sky has a wet dream, fingering, coochie eating, consensual somnophilia, reader has a vagina no pronouns!

minors do not interact.

sky

sky awoke from his nap with a throbbing pain. said pain coming from his dick being so hard. he knows it’s bound to happen as a guy, but his problem is that you’re right next to him. still sleeping.

sky had dreamt of you. he dreamt that your soft, sweet body was shaking, writhing in pleasure while you called his name. he was startled when he awoke to find out that your sweet cunt was indeed not wrapped around him like a vice. he slowly sat up, gazing at your form. you looked perfect to him.

he pulled you closer to him, pressing his hard cock against your ass. he couldn't help but squeeze the soft flesh. he adored that you slept in panties, or sometimes nothing at all. he groaned at the pressure as he hid his face in your neck. one hand stayed wrapped around your waist while the other slipped into your panties.

he loved the feeling of your folds between his fingers. he sighs shakily, rubbing slow circles on your clit. you stirred only slightly, letting out sleepy little groans. sky really couldn't help himself. he began to grind into you, his dick straining against his shorts. he hissed, slightly speeding up his pace on your clit.

you began to twitch, soft whimpers leaving your lips. sky imagined how you'd whimper when he was drilling his cock into you. he let out a needy groan. he felt you grow wetter and wetter under his fingers. slowly, he slipped two fingers into your cunt, his breath hitching at just how tight you were. you stirred even more, your legs beginning to clench around his arm. okay, he's had enough. he lifts your leg, giving him as much access as he needs. he wasn't a selfish man, though. he'd let you cum before fucking your cunt.

the sudden movement jolted you awake, your eyes fluttering open. "b... baby?" your sleepy voice sends him over the edge. sky began to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them harshly.

you clutched the sheets, body overwhelmed with such a sudden jolt of pleasure. your cunt only grew wetter as he fucked you with his fingers. "b-babe! hahh, wait-"

"come on, pretty, don't you wanna cum for me? feels good, yeah? slutty cunt's dripping."

you can only respond with a weak moan, your leg twitching in his hold. your body began to shake, your orgasm hitting you so viciously. you try to pull your leg away, but his grip only tightens. "b-babe, c-cumming! s-slow down!"

your cries fall on deaf ears, sky continuing to grind against your ass. he grunts lowly, only speeding up the pace of his hand. you squeal, hips wriggling away from his.

"pretty, so pretty, n-need you to cum some more. come on, slut, we just started. give me more."

twilight

he’s just now slipping into bed after a long days work. you blink slowly, still a little groggy but happy that he was home. his hands grasped your hips tightly. “l…link?”

as soon as his name left your lips, you were flipped over on your back and pulled closer by your thighs. “hey, darlin’. gonna cum like a whore for me, ‘kay?” your husband kissed wildly all over your neck and chest, not even giving you a chance to breathe. you writhe and moan, the sudden pleasure wracking your poor body.

“l-link! a-ahh, slow—“ you kept getting cut off by your own moans as he kissed your chest, making sure to give your hardened nipples plenty of attention. he kissed all the way down your stomach, making you jolt. then, your sleep shorts were off in an instant.

like the animal he was, he pressed his nose to your mound and inhaled. you gasped out of shock, body jerking in his hold. he does nothing but growl and pull you closer, diving in to taste your sweet cunt. he’d been dreaming about you all day. work should have never dragged on for so long. he was craving a taste of you so badly he could go mad.

your back arched and you grabbed at his hair, pulling his strands. he slurps and sucks at your wet cunt, never stopping for a moment to breathe. you could only let out weak moans at the feeling, your body being fully awake now. you jolted and squirmed from your sensitivity, but he had no plans on letting you go.

he could feel your orgasm before you can. it hits you so quickly you can barely think. “f-fuck! link!”

this does nothing to stop him. he keeps lapping at your poor cunt, desperate to have all of your cream down his throat. you push at his head, clamping your legs around his ears.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck link! e-enough!”

he pulls away from your cunt only to growl. “quiet. let me finish.” he dives right back in, showing no mercy for your sorry cunt.

[redeyerhaenyra]

Accidents never happen

Summary: In which you accidentally call Steven Daddy... but he's into it

Warnings: Daddy kink, vulnerable sex, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, dacryphylia, lmk if I missed anything!

Notes: This is an answer to this request from @cosmicblogs on my main blog (I changed the premise just a wee bit I hope you don't mind pookie)

Wc: 1.5k

"Wot?"

Steven pulled himself reluctantly away from your where he'd buried his face inbetween your breasts. He looked so pretty- ruffled hair, flushed skin, titty drunk eyes. Steven was definitely a boob man.

You however couldn't appreciate the gorgeous scene in front you, too focused on the embarrassment churning through your body in cold waves. You could barely meet his eye, turning away and pretending you hadn't said anything.

"Wot was that, love?" Steven giggled, nosing your neck. "Hm? Did I hear you right?" "I-i didn't say anything.." "Oh I think you did darlin', yeah I think you did. Come on then, wot was that for, eh?"

Whining, you hid your face in your hands. The possibility of you having a Daddy kink was not something you wanted to think about! It was weird, and you'd half convinced yourself you didn't actually have the kink thanks to your anxiety around it. Swearing yourself to secrecy, you had promised yourself you would not, under any circumstances, utter the word "Daddy" around anyone, especially your three boyfriends! Steven least of all, he was so sweet and needy, you didn't want to taint his innocent naivety with your depraved lustings.

And yet.. in the heat of the moment, it had slipped out. Steven was moaning into your chest, palming your tits, suckling on a sensitive bud and rolling the other between his fingers. With the ripples of hot, velvet pleasure winding through you, you hadn't even realised the word begin to rise in your throat.

"D-daddy.." you had all but whimpered out, quiet, but loud enough for Steven to clock it, and this led you to your current predicament;

"Now.. I don't think I'm old enough to be going deaf love, I think I heard you call me Daddy, huh?" "No-! I didn't." Steven chuckled, and gently attempted to pry your hands away from where they covered your mortified expression.

"Aw, come on sweetheart, 's alright, come on, you're really not gonna let me look at your pretty' face?" Slowly, you took your hands away, and Steven's bright smile eased some of your worry.

"There, there's my beautiful girl." Tenderly, he cupped one of your cheeks in his big hands, and pet your skin with his thumb.

"See now, not so bad, is it?" "..Can we just forget I said that Steven?" "Why? S' not all that weird, I don't mind at all darlin' if that's what you like." You whined again, kicking your legs in frustration;

"But it's so weird!" "S' not! Besides, even it if it was, anythings' cute when you do it." "Stooopppp-" you groaned, Steven only laughed again, leaning forward to kiss your hair, and whisper into your neck from where he lay next to you;

"We can stop, if you want darlin'.. but all I'm sayin' is.. I'm not judgin' ya, okay sweetheart? Don't mind at all. Not one bit."

You peered at him suspiciously. "..Really?" "Promise! In fact.." Steven's dextrous fingers slowly danced over your nipples again, ever so gently, before travelling lower, and lower, to your pubic bone. However, even as you whimpered, and rolled your hips up to meet his fingers, he didn't touch you there, not yet.

"I quite like the idea." "You do?" Your voice was breathy, Steven swallowed your noises with a searing kiss and moaned with you as he lightly began to circle your tiny clit with his fingers, you felt his cock throb and twitch against your thigh. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your two tongues.

"Yeah I think I do, hm? Would you like that?" You keened, nodding furiously. "Aw, yeah? Baby wants to be taken care of by Daddy, hm? I'm sure Daddy can arrange something-"

The juxtaposition between the strength and tenderness he showed when plunging his two fingers into your greedy cunt was mind boggling, and had you crying out into the flat. The rhythm of his fingers rolled inside you like soothing warm water, again and again stroking that spongey patch inside you. This tempo continued for a few more minutes, until you reached the precipice of orgasm, cunt fluttering around Steven's fingers- but it was all taken away. You whined like a petulant child when Steven withdrew his soaked fingers from you.

"Hm? Now don't be like tha' love, come on, be a good girl for Daddy, yeah? Open your mouth, that's it- oh good girl.. don't even have to tell you what to do eh? You just know, such a good girl f'me." You had obeyed Steven's desires by sucking.his fingers into your mouth, tasting the rich, tangy flavour of your own juices. Steven moaned at the sight, and kissed your head when he felt his fingers had been thoroughly licked clean. Climbing over you to kneel between your open legs, he finally positioned his cock between your folds, notching it just under your clit. You shivered, a sudden shock of pleasure darting though you. Steven rested his hands on your knees, spreading you open further and allowing him a clearer view of his cock stuffing you to the brim.

He couldn't help himself, it seemed, as he was asking you, "You ready love?" only when he was halfway inside you. Steven always stretched you out so good, like all the boys. It was always just right. You arched your back as he finally bottomed out, Steven bringing his hand around to cup your back, and hold you firmly on his cock.

You had sex with Steven many a time before.. but this time felt different. You were, both of you, uniquely vulnerable today, having shared something so personal. The man himself needed a moment to adjust, nevermind you, it was usually like this; the hot, wet pressure of your cunny was always something Steven needed to adjust to. His laboured breathing now matched your own.

Though eventually, it was too little. You needed more, and you grabbed at his shoulder, pleading with him with the best puppy-dog eyes you could muster;

"Please Daddy," you whimpered, "Please, I need it, please-" Steven groaned, pulling back his hips before roughly rutting forward again. You cried out, louder this time, writhing against the sheets.

"Y-yeah? This what you want, little girl? This what you need?" You nodded, unable to speak as the feeling of climax mounted once again.

"Oh, baby girl, you cryin'?" He moved one of his broad hands to wipe away the tears you hadn't realised had formed, so overwhelmed by the flood of positive emotions. Now that he mentioned it, your vision was getting a little blurry..

"Ohhhhh fuck, baby, sweetheart, my precious girl, that's so hot, oh fuck- it's that good huh? Yeah? Daddy makes you feel that good?" You could only babble and hiccup in response, the mind-blowing sensation of him drilling into you over and over and over, in the vulnerable setting you had accidentally forced yourself into, was overriding all capacity for thought. Steven moaned, "Ohhh shit, I bet you said that on purpose, yeah? You just wanted to get fucked real, deep, huh?" He punctuated each word with a snapping thrust of his hips, leaving you a sobbing mess beneath him.

Soon it became too much to even look at him, his gorgeous brown eyes and dark curls above you, and so you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt him shift, and suddenly you were held close to the comforting warmth of his chest. Steven leaned down to kiss your head for the nth time that night.

"Come on baby, you can cum whenever you like sweetie, okay? Come on, I know you can do it, let go for me, let go for Daddy, thaaats it, there we go, good girl, such a good girl for Daddy..." He held you tight, rocking you through your orgasm as it hit you like a freight train. Sure, Steven blew your mind everytime he made you cum, but again, this time, so open and honest, was different. As the loud thumping of your heartbeat pulsed in your ears, and the starshattering climax wracked through your entire body, Steven followed soon after. He hunched over, whimpering and moaning in your ear as he spilled his hot ropes of cum deep inside you, rolling his hips in tandem with yours, until he propped himself up above you, huffing, his cock still twitching within you.

He gently brought you up and over, so that he lay on his back, and you on his chest, still with his dick softening inside you. Steven always glowed after an orgasm, though in your aftershocks and subspace, you didn't really have the energy to appreciate the way his skin glittered with sweat, and the way his smile light up the entire flat. He stroked your hair; "That wasn't so bad, was it? Eh?" You hummed. "See? Exactly. No need to be embarrassed about anythin', okay sweetheart?" Again you hummed, and rubbing your shoulder, Steven seemed satisfied with this answer.

"...I still think you said it on purpose." You were too weak to argue back, other than with a loud, keening whine, and a smack to his shoulder. Steven chuckled, and peppered kisses against your head, smiling down at you;

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now, does it?"

[training4theapocalypse]

PLEASE do what Scots actually say I’m so curious

Soap x Reader Scottish Dialogue Inspo

To celebrate Burns Night, here are some realistic smutty Scottish terms and some general stuff to do with relationships. Feel free to use this if you find it helpful 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Disclaimer: my tiny country is made up of countless accents and Soap is canonically from Kilmarnock but his voice actor is from Elgin so who TF knows what he’d actually say.

I also don’t think you need to write in Scots either - I’m Scottish and I don’t (unless am absolutely ragin aboot somethin’) but I can see why you’d want to for Soap’s dialogue. 

Behave yersel’

This is easy - it’s just ‘behave yourself’ but it can be used as a smutty admonishment.

“I’ll sleep on the couch - you take the bed.”

“Behave yersel’,” says Soap, unfastening his belt.

Bonny / Bonnie

Spell it whichever way you like. This is primarily an adjective but I see it used as a noun in fic. All. The. Time. It was used a long time ago as a noun - and maybe it still is further north - but where I / Soap are from it's really only used as an adjective these days.

“What do you think of the new recruit, Captain?”

“Aye, she’s bonny, awryt.”

But use this sparingly - and only to describe a person as a whole and not individual body parts. (e.g. you wouldn’t say “Your tits are so bonny.”) 

Darlin’ / Doll

The two most common pet names I hear from men here. It is ROUGH as anything and makes me melt. Ughhhh. 🥵

“D’ye like whit ye see, doll?”

Fuckin’ hell

An exclamation that’s pretty ubiquitous across the UK. Soap would 100% say this after sex or if he was surprised by something that made him horny. From clips of Soap I’ve seen I know he says “Steamin’ hell” too but I’ve never heard this IRL.

You sit in Soap’s office, perched on his desk wearing your new lingerie.

He opens the door and freezes, jaw on the floor.

“… Fuckin’ hell.”

Gads 

This is a very specific Kilmarnock / Ayrshire thing (which is where Soap’s file says he’s from). And it comes from a very old-timey phrase ‘egads!’ which is hilarious to me.

Gads can be used as an exclamation for something shocking (OR something cringe depending on the context).

“You honestly think that I snuck into your room because my bed was uncomfortable? I want you to fuck me, Soap.”

He swallows. “... Gads.” 

Gantin’ for it

AKA Gagging for it. Juvenile way to describe being horny. Soap would probably say this about himself in a jokey way. 

“You alright, Soap?”

“Aye, aye. I’ve just been gantin’ for it ever since that new lassie joined.”

Lassie / Lass

Girl. Younger. (Pop off age difference fics)

Missus

Literally “Mrs” but surprisingly not just used to refer to your wife. Really commonly used to refer to a girlfriend.

“Look, whatever the missus wants she gets. Awryt?”

Wee (insert expletive)

Literally call me whatever you want as long as you put ‘wee’ in front of it. Wee bitch, wee slag, wee slut (omggggggg). 

Soap tuts, as you writhe against his thigh. “Yer an impatient wee thing, aren’t ye?”

Anyway, that's all I've got for now- if I think of any more, I'll add to this. You don't need to credit me if you actually use this - I like to think of it as service to my country 🫡

P.S. This made me realise I've only ever had sex with Scottish people so maybe some of this is just normal sex stuff and not Scotland specific???? HAHAHAHA

P.P.S. I was getting really into the dialogue so I've written a short fic about Reader x Soap.

[oceantornadoo]

mad max: the 141 (price x f!reader)

ch 3: johnny's home

canon-typical violence, sexual violence is referenced (but will not happen), general misogyny. the 141 are the good guys, just a bit rough around the edges

series masterlist (also has more world building info)

--

you screamed.

john woke with a start, forcing you behind him as he searched for any danger. ghost and gaz burst into the room, guns at the ready. you were shaking uncontrollably, fear coursing through your body and tightening around your throat. and suddenly, ghost, that hulk of a man who had given you grunts and gruff words, started laughing.

it was a gravelly sound, like a dirt bike over desert sand. gaz joined in, his laughter like the flow of gasoline, rich but tainted. the absolute gall of them. there had been a man, you’d seen him! he was sitting there in the corner, shaking with laughter himself while john’s grip on your waist loosened. john reached for the lightbulb near the wall, flooding the room with light.

“steamin’ jesus, lass, almos’ gave me a heart attack.” the man in the red mask huffed out in between laughs. his accent was unfamiliar to you, almost foreign. “soap, it’s good to see you.” gaz was patting him on the back while ghost shook his head, the shock of the scene still wearing off. john was still holding you, you realized, still pressing your front to his back. but now, his harsh grip was gone and replaced with a warm touch. he rubbed circles into the thin fabric of your shift, inherently calming you down. “darlin’.” john was moving you out from behind him, the tension in his shoulders releasing softly. “this is soap.” he tried to coax you towards soap, who was still catching up with ghost and gaz, but your feet stayed firmly planted. “i thought…i thought he was dead.”

“‘m alive and well. had some other business.” soap acknowledged your question. gaz made another comment under his breath and the group laughed again. you could see the day’s tension finally fading away. you’d thought the group was just harsh, beaten down by the desert sun like every other man in the wasteland, but it was clear they were just worried about soap’s business, whatever that was. john, sensing your refusal to move, left you standing as he made his way over to his men. they all straightened their back almost imperceptibly, giving him a true captain’s respect. he gave soap a couple pats to the back, almost ensuring he was truly here, and the group relaxed again.

“sorry fer scarin’ her, captain. jus’ wanted a look at the wee lass.” john looked back at you, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress as you recovered from your previous fright. “and?” soap grinned. “aye, she’s a bonnie one. you sharin’?” that was the wrong question to ask. john’s face became a mask, hard as desert stone. “no. there will be no sharing.” john looked each of his men in the eyes, making his point clear. a course of whispered “yes, sirs” reached his ear, their deference easily earned. “go’on now, back to bed. long trip in the morning. good to see you, soap.” the men nodded, taking their leave, still huddled together and shooting you glances as they left.

you were already back in the bedroll, front facing the wall as you gave john your back. he turned off the light, then climbed in, refusing to give you the space that you clearly desired. “you mad at me, sweetheart?” his large hand traveled over your hip to the bottom of your stomach, pulling you in closer to him. you shook your head, unsure why the scene had affected you so. you were practically their prisoner, yet you were mad they didn’t tell you about soap? it didn’t make sense. you were obviously suffering some delusions from being surrounded by such an oasis.

john nosed at your neck as he pulled your ass against his crotch, his body all hard against yours. “say it.” it sounded like an order, but it could have been a plea in the way he said it, his voice low in the dark. “you’re not my captain, you can’t order me around.” he chuckled behind you, the sound warming your core like the sun, making you squirm in his arms. “that’s it, hm? mad your captain didn’t clue you in?” he was almost taunting you now, that hand traveling from your stomach to the underside of your breasts. his knuckle brushed the underside of your tits so lightly, you almost thought it was a dream. “well, you lied to me too, so we’re even.” you turned around quickly, all fire now. “what are you talking about?” he gave you a small smirk, beard shifting with the movement. “you’ve been with men before.”

your jaw dropped. “i’m a virgin.” he clucked his tongue at that. “sure you are love, but you’ve been with men before. you’re too comfortable with me for that to be false.” you huffed, turning back to your original position. “so, what.” his arm snaked back around you again, that hand inching up until he was massaging your tits, like he had the right. “jus’ like to have all the facts, love.” he inched his thigh between both of yours, the meat of it pressing against your core. you bit back a moan as you tried not to hump him, willing your body to calm down. you blamed it on the adrenaline of the night’s earlier events. “i’m not going to let you fuck me.” he laughed at the sound of a curse word leaving your lips, your princess facade abandoned. “no, you’ll be begging me for it. now go-“, he pushed his thigh harder against you, leg hair providing delicious friction against your clothed clit, “to sleep.” and under your captain’s orders, you slept.

—

i’m grasping around for a plot but i just keep coming up with smutty interactions😔

[spongeyspot]

Poly Relationship HCs (SFW +NSFW)

(John Marston x fem!reader x Abigail Marston)

(A/N): A little longer than I anticipated. Also, I'm terrible at editing things so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, please don't bite me. I'm just a wee baby

Content warning: fluff, small mentions of infidelity, polyamory, female reader, you/she pronouns

SFW

- The relationship itself had probably started when either John or Abigail had started to catch feelings

- It was probably Abigail considering how distant John was from her in the beginning

- Quite honestly would probably keep your relationship a secret during the very early stages.

- She saw how much you cared about her and her family, so it was only natural for her to start to fall in love. She fell in love with John pretty quickly, too, though he was a bit slower to warm up to the idea of having a family

- You, however, love Jack as if he were your own, which makes Abigail swoon even more. Plus, another parent figure to Jack (Who he also really likes) because her husband is kinda useless half the time? Jackpot!

- When she brought up adding you to their relationship, John was probably pretty okay with the idea, even a little excited, though if she told him that she had been seeing you secretly before that, he'd probably be a little pissy.

- After adding you to their family, things seemed to move a lot smoother. John warmed up to the idea a lot quicker than both of you had anticipated

- You usually act as a mediator for a lot of Abigail and John's fights, but knowing John he'd probably say some shit like "Look, even she's on my side!" and Abigail would get pissed at you too.

- Abigail LOVES to hold you by the fire. John usually has his arm around the both of you with you sitting in the middle.

- Would take turns having you sleep with them at night because their bedrolls weren't really big enough to fit one person, let alone three.

- When the gang moved to Shady Belle, things were a lot easier with lodging. John loses his mind every time he gets to cuddle the both of you at the same time. He's a sucker for physical touch, really.

- After chores are finished, the three of you are usually found sitting under a tree, Abigail cuddled into your side while you read a book, and John lays on his back beside you, his head resting on your thighs. His hat is usually covering his face, but when it isn't, you or Abigail absentmindedly play with his hair or massage his scalp.

- Abigail loves it when you spend time with Jack. It makes her heart swell to see him having so much fun.

- You tend to encourage John to spend time with him as well, which she also appreciates.

- Family game nights end with You and Jack teamed up and absolutely wrecking John at dominoes while Abigail watches

- Says something like "I let you win." with a roll of his eyes before sulking away

- Pet names!

- John calls you 'Baby', 'Darlin'', 'Dollface', and even 'Sugartits' if he wants to get slapped

- Abigail calls you 'Honey', 'Sweetie pie', 'Honey Bun', or 'Pretty Girl'.

- Both John and Abigail enjoy physical affection.

- John likes to kiss your hair and squeeze your thighs.

- Abigail loves to kiss you on the cheek and hold your hand.

-If John walks by you, he will throw out an affectionate compliment or two

- "God, you look pretty today, (Name)."

- Also probably pinches or slaps your ass on his way by

- He secretly loves it when you slap or pinch his ass too, though he'd never actually admit it.

- Abigail is a bit more sultry with it, then goes back to normal like she didn't just blatantly hit on you

- "Damn, well look at you, Pretty girl. Don't you look fine this mornin'... Coffee?"

- Also pinches and slaps your ass, but also gives it a good squeeze, and will sometimes hold her hand on your ass instead of on your hip if you stand side by side.

NSFW (MINORS DNI)

Content Warnings: oral sex (m + f recieving), mean!dom!abigail, dacryphilia if you squint, edging, masturbation, voyeurism, cucking if you squint, risky sex, brat tamer!Abigail, spanking, biting, hickeys, marking kink, Mommy kink, praise, breeding, creampies, cum eating

- John and Abigail are both switches.

- John tends to be a top when it's just the two of you, but when Abigail is also part of the fun, he's most likely on his back, letting you both use him however you please.

- His favorite is when he's laying on his back and both you and Abigail take turns sucking his cock, occasionally pulling away to kiss. It makes him rock hard. Never mind how it feels... he could cum from the sight alone... his favorite girls worshipping his cock with all their enthusiasm and love.

- Abigail is a Dom/top a lot of the time. She can also be pretty mean about it.

- Abigail edges you to the point where sometimes, you'll cry out for her, begging her to let you finish. Every time she finally lets you, you always feel like you cum so much harder than you ever had before.

- John loves to sit back and jerk off, watching the two of you in bed together.

- Abigail sometimes does the same, sitting aside whilst rubbing and fucking her pussy with her fingers as she watches John fuck you into his bedroll

- Abigail loves it when you act like a brat - She likes to leave your ass red and sore from spanking you, and often orders John to do the same when she watches.

- Abigail also probably bites you a leaves hickeys to stake her claim on you. Makes sure to put them where everyone can see.

- John does the same, but it's usually below where your clothes would cover them like your breasts, stomach, or thighs

- John LOVES biting you. He loves making you squirm

- Abigail lowkey has a Mommy kink

- Abigail likes to call you her Pillow Princess, pulling beautiful noises from you as she makes you cum multiple times in quick succession with just her hands. Sometimes even her words.

- "Look at you, sweetie pie. All pretty and spread open, just for me. Oh, I know you just came... but... How's about one more, huh? Can you do that for Mommy?"

- There have been times when it's been just the two of you, and she's shown far more vulnerability than she's used to. During those times, she's on her back, a hand covering her mouth as you work her open with your mouth and fingers.

- Please praise the hell out of her during these times. She really needs it.

- Even when Abigail is vulnerable with you, she is still in control almost 99.99% of the time.

- John and Abigail are both certified munches

-John loves when both of you are on top of him, riding both his dick and his face.

- He eats pussy like his life depends on it. Fr like it's his last meal.

- He also loves to watch you eat pussy.

- He loves to fuck you in the doggy style position while Abigail buries your face between her legs.

- John usually likes to have sex in the privacy of his tent/room, whereas Abigail likes risky sex. She likes the idea of there being a possibility you could be caught

- there have been numerous times when she's stuck her hand into the front of your skirts while you sat the the dining table during mealtimes. As far as you both knew, the other people sitting there had been oblivious.

- John knows. He always knows. He was watching the whole time.

- He was usually the one to instigate it, always letting Abigail know whenever you forwent bloomers. (he would hide them so you couldn't wear them)

-Though he'd probably never participate himself, he loves to watch you come undone on Abigail's fingers in public.

- John fantasizes about getting you pregnant too.

- He brought it up to Abigail as a joke, saying how nice it would be for Jack to have a sibling to play with.

- From that point on, John was told to cum inside you every chance he got, not stopping even after you're swollen and round with his baby.

-Abigail enjoys eating you out after John has cum inside you.

[jesterwriting]

jesterrr!!! my lovey dovey!! congrats on 200 !!

for the event, i was thinking perhaps ace + cowboy casanova would be a good match… heheh 🤠 no specifics in mind; do whatever you’d like!

i hope you have tons of fun with this event! ♥️

pairings: cowboy!ace x gn!reader

word count: 2.4k words

contents: cowboy ace, saloon worker reader, riding under the stars, fluff, flirting, ace is a sweetheart, first kiss, ace has a southern accent and so do you, nicknames used: sugar, sweetheart, darlin’

note: HAAAAIII LIV THANK YOU SO MUCH <33 i had so much fun with this request. i didnt know how badly i needed ace with a southern accent before i started writing this but zoo wee mama…. hes so…. hehe. i hope you enjoy reading this! <33 thank you so much for the request :3

playlist: cowboy casanova - carrie underwood

“He’s a good time Cowboy Casanova, leanin’ up against the record machine.”

done for the 200 followers event!!

The sun was down and the saloon was full. Your feet ached in your boots as you carried another round of drinks to a nearby table, offering a sweet smile and a nod to the folks sitting around it. The night was young, and you were already exhausted with the sudden influx of guests. You didn’t know why your dingy little town was so busy, considering it didn’t have much besides a ranch or two to its name, but it was flooded nonetheless.

Whiskey flowed like water here. You were nothing but a provider to the poor parched souls who wound up on your doorstep.

It had been a year since you started working at Dusty’s Saloon, aptly named for the dust that usually settled itself along the bar, and not once had it ever been so hectic. Of course, there was a fight every so often. You couldn’t mix men and beer without one brewing at least once a week. This, though? This was brand new. You caught sight of a few folks brandishing an emblem you didn’t recognize, either around their necks, on their belt buckle, or most surprisingly, tattooed on their body. Delia, your more privy coworker, would probably know what it meant. You would ask her if you had a second to yourself, but considering how the night was going, you doubted you would be able to.

“And here you are.” You set your final two tankards down on a table, meeting their thankful grins with one of your own, before you settled behind the bar. There was a short lull in your workload. Your boss was busy in the back, likely smoking, and you took the opportunity to take a short breather without one of his sharp reprimands.

If you got time to lean, you got time to clean, he’d say. If you ever heard that bullshit again, you’d show him what for, you swore on it. With a sigh, you started cleaning one of the glasses.

“Now, what’s got a pretty young thing like you lookin’ so down?”

You jumped, nearly dropping the rag you were working with. There, leaning against the counter, stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. His hair was black, deep black. The kind that looked inky under the light, styled short in the front and long in the back. He wore a tasseled vest, the musculature of his arms on display for all to see. You must have been staring because he flexed a little, his biceps bulging. When your eyes found his face, you were stunned by the constellations of freckles scattered across his cheeks and the friendly smile that adorned his lips.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He cocked his head to the side.

It was embarrassing that you were so easy to read. Frowning, you narrowed your eyes and gestured to the spirits behind you. “What’ll you have?”

“Don’t be like that, sugar, I was only sayin’ hi.” The man put his hands up in fake surrender, a playful gleam in his eyes. The spurs of his boots jingled when he readjusted himself against the bar.

“If you were just sayin’ hi, you’d be gone already.” You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. He was cute and he knew it, that was the most dangerous kind of man. Lucky for him, you didn’t mind a little danger.

He ignored you and tipped the brim of his hat. “Name’s Ace.” When he was met with silence and crossed arms, he continued, “Normally, this is where you give me your name.”

“Well, you ain’t gettin’ it.”

Eyes still sparkling, Ace grinned. “Well, fair’s fair. I tried. Have a good night. Come find me if you change your mind, alright, sugar?”

“I won’t,” You called back, knowing it was a lie. He must’ve known too, because he shot you a wink before settling at a far table to sip on his drink. Cocky bastard.

It wasn’t until you started cleaning a glass did you realize a smile had split your face right in two. You felt your face warm. Too easy to read, indeed. Ace probably knew you were putty in his hands from the first hello.

You heard a whisper of your voice from the backroom. Delia was looking at you from the crack in the door, hurriedly gesturing you over. Fond, you rolled your eyes and tucked your rag into your belt loop.

“”What d’ya need, Delia?”

Before you could blink, she pulled you into the room by your lapels. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight in the back, and another second to register that your friend was looking at you with a mix of fear and disbelief.

“What do you think you’re doin’ talkin’ to Fire Fist Ace?” Delia whisper-yelled.

You blinked a few times before gently unclenching her fingers from your jacket. “Fire Fist who? Honey, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Grabbing the back of your head, she focused your attention on the man who was pestering you at the bar. He had fallen asleep in his chair. A smile wormed its way onto your face at the sight.

“Him! Fire Fist Ace, one of Whitebeard’s boys. You don’t mess around with one of his,” She exclaimed.

“Whitebeard’s boys? I thought they were two towns over.”

“No, dummy, they’re right here in our town stirrin’ up all sorts of nonsense.” Delia turned you by your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye. “Listen to me now, Y/N, you don’t mess around with Fire Fist Ace. Girls, boys, anyone, he’ll go for ‘em all and he’ll use you and leave you out to dry. That’s what I hear.”

“Yeah, well you hear all sorts of stuff. Not all of it’s true.”

You tried not to flinch when Delia gasped so loud, a few heads turned in your direction. “Do not tell me you’re thinkin’ of foolin’ around with that boy.”

With a sheepish grin, you ducked out of her hold and spun back out to the bar. “No promises, Delia.”

Ignoring her scandalized expression, you found yourself waiting tables again. When you found yourself near Ace’s table, you set a cup of fine whiskey at his side. The chilled glass met his skin, waking him with a start.

“Oh, it’s just you, sugar,” He drawled. Ace looked down at the whiskey, smile still in place. “I didn’t order this.”

“The name’s Y/N, and it’s on the house.”

His index finger trailed circles along the rim of the glass as he stared up at you. “Pretty name for a pretty little thing like you. I like it.”

You snickered, “Didn’t ask if you liked it, though I can’t say I’m not flattered”

“Why don’t you come ridin’ with me tonight?” A few of the men at nearby tables snorted and you were reminded of his reputation. Did you really want to get involved with someone who’d only break your heart? To your surprise, the answer felt obvious. You cocked your hip to the side and gave him a smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, cowboy.”

The grin that bloomed across his face was boyish and sweet. “Darlin’, you’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

—

It was late by the time you finished cleaning up. The crowd had left, likely back to Whitebeard’s camp, wherever that was. Delia left an hour ago, but not before giving you a disappointed frown. Fine, she could be disappointed all she wanted. You were ready for the whirlwind romance you’d been denied your whole life. You were young, it was time to take a chance, and if that chance was on a cowboy you met a few hours ago, so be it.

Said cowboy was asleep in his chair with his hat over his eyes. A bit of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth and onto his vest. Now that the bar wasn’t blocking you from his lower half, you noticed his belt buckle sported the same emblem as the other patrons. He was one of Whitebeard’s boys, that was for sure. A bit of trepidation swirled in your chest, easily snuffed out when you remembered how kind he’d been all night. Here's to hoping your gut was right, and Ace was the gentleman you believed him to be.

You gave him a gentle shake. Ace snorted before cracking an eye open and taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Mornin’, sugar.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” You laughed.

“‘S mornin’ somewhere,'' He slurred, still half-asleep.

Giggling, you poked his cheek. “C’mon, wake up. What about that ride, cowboy?”

That got his attention. Ace perked up like a dog that just heard the word ‘treat.’ His hat was skewed, and he adjusted it with one hand, the other wrapping around your shoulders to lead you out the door. “You’re gonna have the time of your life, sugar, I can promise you that.”

You clenched your fists to keep your nerves at bay. This was so unlike you, going off with a stranger in the dead of night. Ace seemed to notice your anxiety and gave you a squeeze, body warm against your own. It was comforting. You sighed, leaning into his embrace as you approached his horse. It had a beautiful brown coat, the same color as his eyes, and black mane, almost matching his own. Once, Delia had joked that all cowboys resembled their horses. It wasn’t until you were staring at Ace under the starlight did you start to believe something so ridiculous.

You doubted he’d consider it a compliment if you compared him to a horse, so you held your tongue.

His horse whinnied when she saw you. Ace placed a comforting hand on the side of her neck, smoothing out her fur. “Hush, girl. Don’t you worry now, they’re sweet like you.”

You slid next to him and elbowed him in the ribs. “You never know, I could be gettin’ you alone just to kill you.”

Ace snickered, “Wouldn’t be the first, wouldn’t be the last, but you would be the prettiest.”

“Oh, quiet now.” A flush heated your cheeks as you lightly slapped him on the shoulder.

He seemed proud of himself for flustering you. With a practiced ease, Ace hefted himself into the saddle and scooted up so there was room for you. Patting the seat, he gave you a grin. “Need a hand, sugar?”

You had never ridden a horse before, you weren’t above admitting it. Sighing, you took his hand and tried not to think about how easily he lifted you with one arm, even with your foot in the stirrup. Once you were in the saddle, you wrapped your arms around Ace’s waist to steady yourself. He gave your thigh a final pat, then let out a loud yip, and the horse was off.

Without permission, a laugh bubbled out of your throat. You squeezed Ace, anxiety mixing with pure, unadulterated joy as the wind whipped your hair. Stars glittered overhead, the full moon casting the landscape in a silver glow. Ace was warm, and the night air was cold. Unable to stand the chill, you buried your face between his shoulder blades, ignoring the rumble of a chuckle that shook his entire body.

“Havin’ fun back there?” A bit of genuine concern leaked into his tone. “Need me to slow down?”

You wondered if he could feel your body shaking. Not from fear, but from excitement.

“Faster!” You cried.

Ace whooped, “Yeehaw!”

Laughing at the cliche, you felt your stomach drop as his horse picked up speed, dashing out of town and into the plains. The sound of hooves on hard ground echoed in your head. Adrenaline sang in your veins, making you dizzy and desperate for more. The two of you rode like this for a while before the horse slowed to a canter with an easy pull of her reins and a click of Ace’s tongue.

“Where are we?”

Ace looked back, excitement evident on his face. “Took you somewhere special to look at the stars.”

At his words, you looked up to see the entire night sky open in front of you. Countless clusters of stars formed webs, intertwining with one another in a sea of purple and blue. There were no clouds to block the view, it was a perfectly clear night, save for a few wisps here and there. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.

Ace slid off the saddle and offered you his hand. “Hey. No peekin’”

“How can I not? It’s beautiful.”

Unlike before when he only pulled you by your arm into the saddle, Ace’s hands gently gripped you by the waist and lifted you with an ease you weren’t expecting. You were no waif, but he was deceptively strong. He looked down at you with soft eyes, smoothing out a few strands of wind blown hair with his palm.

“You’re beautiful, sugar.”

“Why do you keep calling me that if you know my name?”

His eyes flickered to your lips. “‘Cause you’re sweet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been mouthy all damn night.”

“A man can dream.”

With that, he kissed you, lips pressed softly against yours. He tasted like whiskey and he smelled like a hearth. Cozy and warm, like home. To your surprise, the kiss was chaste, over almost as soon as it began. Ace’s cheeks were bright red when he looked down at you.

“I heard you were a real casanova, surely you can kiss better than that,” You teased the already flustered man.

Ace’s blush darkened. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Around.”

He snickered at your non-answer. “Every cowboy’s got a reputation for rollin’ around in the hay. Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you’ve been bein’ honest with me all night, but I suppose it’s better late than never.”

Leaning down until his breath ghosted across your cheek, he whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

You smirked and pulled him closer until the two of you were nose to nose. “I think now’s as good a time as ever to get some practice in.”

“And the next night, and the next night,” Ace asked, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“And the night after that,” You said, bringing him in for a kiss.

[sweetandgentlecreature]

May I request a headcanon for single!dad Syverson? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Absolutely you can! Single dad!Sy is a weakness of mine, and I’d love to share my thoughts on it. Thanks for requesting! ❤️❤️

Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff!

In my mind, Sy is a girl dad.

My first thoughts are that Sy didn't know he had a daughter until he'd come back from deployment. It was a one night stand that brought on more than he'd bargained for, and when the child's mother showed up on his porch one day, she dropped the bombshell right then and there. "Sy, meet Grace. She's your daughter."

He, as most first-time parents, learned on his feet. Diaper changes, bottle feedings, and sleepless nights; he took them all in stride. Sitting at the kitchen table in the wee hours of the morning, he propped her up to sit in a hand-me-down highchair to have a talk. "Alright, lil miss. Here's how this is gonna go. Yer gonna go back ta' sleep, and yer gonna let yer daddy get some rest. 4am is not the time ta' get up and play."

She'd watch him with wide, curious eyes, as a slow, dimpled smile spread across her chubby cheeks and she giggled. As if to say, "Oh, daddy. You don't run the show."

And she was right, of course. By 5 o'clock, they were sitting together in the living room, watching reruns of Sesame Street in the dark.

As she grew, new challenges arose.

Toddler meltdowns became a daily struggle in the Syverson house.

Wanting the pink sippy cup and not the purple one; insisting on dressing herself for daycare (rain boots go best with tutus of course); dropping to the floor, dead-weight, in the middle of the grocery store demanding Lucky Charms instead of Cheerios.

Some days, he just had to pick his battles.

"Here, baby. I bought an extra pink one, just for you." "You look beautiful, baby girl. You want the yellow bow to match your boots?" *sighs* "Alright, fine. Lucky Charms it is."

Princess birthday parties, Daddy-Makeovers, stickers and glitter filling his work boots.

Little reminders to keep him going throughout the day.

And then came the day that he'd dreaded the most: her first day of kindergarten.

Hand in hand, they walked together up the steps of the school. He stopped her at the door and dropped to his knees before her.

Smoothing a hand over her wild curls, he took a deep breath and looked into her tearful eyes.

"Come on now, darlin'. It's gonna be alright."

Her bottom lip quivered as she did her best not to cry.

"B-but what if no one likes me?"

He'd do his best not to laugh. To her, this was serious.

"Oh, darlin'...that's the best part. Yer gonna go in there and make so many friends, you won't know what'ta do with yerself."

He'd kiss her on the head, then hand her over to her teacher that was waiting at the door.

Watching her walk away felt like losing the biggest piece of his heart, but he knew this is what she needed.

He stayed strong as he watched her disappear down the hall.

When he got to the truck, way out of sight, he let the tears fall. Damn, he loves that little girl.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Enticing (Broadchurch Drabble)

Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Alec comes home and ruins your anniversary surprise for himself.

CW: none? it's not smut, but there's lingerie and wandering eyes

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It was supposed to be a surprise for your anniversary. Alec was taking you out to dinner, and you were going to wear a pretty dress with pretty lace in Alec’s favourite colour and when you got home, you were going to sit him down on the edge of the bed, put some sexy music on and undress yourself, show him your pretty new lingerie (also in Alec’s favourite colour) and then ride him until he busted one inside you and wore himself out, the poor thing. 

But no. Your plans for the evening? Ruined. All thanks to the man himself. 

You’d wanted to make sure the lingerie fitted one more time before you started getting ready for your date night later and Alec decided that this was the one day in the history of his very long, very late career that he needed to come home early. During the daylight, no less. Had Hell frozen over? 

And so, he’d ruined the surprise for himself, wandering into the bedroom and seeing you in all your glory. He’d stopped short right in the doorway, mouth dropping open in shock. 

“Fuck- sorry,” he’d said at first, thinking he’d just wandered in while you were getting changed. But then he noticed the colour, the lace, the fit. “God, you look- stunning.” 

You deflated, arms dropping down to your sides. 

“Damn it, Alec- it was supposed to be a surprise. You didn’t knock. You didn’t even tell me you were coming home.” 

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, coming to stand before you. He raked his eyes up your form, and you took notice of the way his eyes dilated with lust. “Just nipped home f’er a wee snack. Forgot my lunch.” 

As far as explanations go, it was pretty poor. 

“Why didn’t you get something out?” 

“Don’t like the food ‘ere,” he said, lips curling distastefully. “Wanted- erm- some of last night's dinner.” 

Last night’s dinner was, in fact, pork ribs you’d made. Your speciality. Alec rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“I see,” you replied. “Well, you’re here now- what do you think?” 

You did a little twirl, squeezing your own hips and smoothing your hands over your barely covered skin. 

“Och, darlin’,” Alec says, stepping forward and running a hand up your side. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

“Nuh-uh,” you tutted, stepping away from his exploratory hands. “You’ve had your sneak peek. Go on, get.” 

Alec frowned, giving you unintentional puppy eyes. 

“Don’t give me that look. You can unwrap your present when we get home from dinner.” 

Alec grumbled but didn’t protest too much after that. Though when you finally did make it to dinner, he seemed pretty eager to eat and get home.

In fact, you didn’t even get dessert. He insisted he had something far sweeter than anything that restaurant had waiting at home for him. 

How enticing. How could you say no to that?

[nattysstargirl]

Alone, again.

Mafia!Wanda Maximoff X Reader angst

Brief Mafia!Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Short blurb

Age gap (undisclosed)

I thought the way Pietro treated me was bad, but it was nothing compared to what his sister has done. From him I expect nothing less than selfishness and disloyalty, but her? No. It has been a week since we slept together for the second time and I awoke in her room alone again. I was disappointed and wished that she would have woken me to say goodbye, but I didn’t for a second doubt that we would talk later in the day.

The rose-tinted glasses I have worn since I was old enough to think Wanda Maximoff was a mixture of superhero and goddess, have left me vulnerable to the fact that she is as capable as her brother of using and discarding women. At least Pietro never pretended to be anything different. He told me explicitly that he didn’t love me right before we had sex.

Wanda sucked me in. She gave me a taste of what I have craved for so long. I felt safe with her, protected. My eyes roll every time I think of the warmth I felt when she called me baby or my darlin’. How naive and stupid was I that I thought that meant she cared at all for me? Wherever she has been sleeping this week, she has probably been whispering the same sweet words into another woman’s ear.

My cheeks redden with the humiliation I can’t shake. The feeling that I am pathetic. All I am worth is a political marriage. My mother can’t see me past her self-obsession and my father, he sees me as a pawn in his miniature game of thrones. My half-brother fucking kidnapped me, for goodness sake. The fact remains that the only person who I have ever truly felt loved by is Bucky and he has been lying to me too.

He spends more time with Sam than he does with me now anyway and I feel our special bond slipping away. I’m glad I have Natasha, but our friendship is still new. We bond over work dramas, the gym members who hit on us, and all the normal bullshit. We hang out, but she doesn’t know all the inner workings of my complicated life. The past week I have been a zombie.

I don’t want to speak with anyone. I have stayed at the Maximoff house because being near my parents would only make me more miserable, but I haven’t seen Wanda. I snuck into her room the first night in the wee hours of the morning and she wasn’t there. Her bed was still as I had made it that morning. The second day I text her.

Y/N: Hey? Is everything ok?

But I didn't get a response. That was when I knew that she was avoiding me. There was no alarm in the rest of the family that she was missing or out of touch. It was just me she avoided. Bucky tried to comfort me. He called his cousin all sorts of names and was on my side. But he kept pushing me back towards Pietro. His solution to my heartbreak was for me to throw myself into my sham marriage.

“You’re only saying that because it’s what the Famiglia wants!” I screamed at him. “When did you stop giving a shit about me!”

The guilt on his face told me I was right. He was working toward an agenda, not caring about his oldest friend. Interestingly, Piet has been nice this week. His cheerfulness has been a reprieve from all the angst. He took me out for brunch on the third day and although it was nice, his hand on my lower back as we walked through the cafe felt wrong. He is the only one who seems to get how shit it is to have your life at total mercy to what the Famiglia dictates.

We have bonded over our mutual hatred of the control being exerted over us. Now, it’s six nights since I last saw Wanda and I’ve sent several texts which have all received no response. Miserable, I sneak into her room again. I can’t sleep and pathetically, I think maybe if she still isn’t there, I could just sleep in her bed.

Maybe her scent on her pillows will help me drift off. I pad barefoot down the hallway wearing one of Bucky’s massive t-shirts and slip into Wanda’s room. I pause, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dark room before tip-toeing toward the bed. A dark form lies entangled in the blankets. She is home. She’s here and she didn’t reply to a single text or check I am ok. I want to throw things at her sleeping body. Wake her up with my hurt screams.

But instead, I walk around to the other side of the bed and slip under the covers. I crawl over to her and turn around so my back is to her. I rest my head gently on the bicep of her outstretched arm and she instinctively pulls me in close, curling her body around mine. I loathe how good it feels. My eyes fill with tears and my heart with self-hatred.

“Y/N,” Wanda groans, sleepy and exasperated, a few moments later.

“I hate you,” I reply, my voice thick as I battle the tears threatening to fall.

She is silent for a moment and then sighs. “I know, baby. I hate myself too. Go to sleep.”

And I do. In her arms, I slip into the easiest sleep I have had all week. I know that the morning will bring with it more heartache. She will push me away again. But for now, I feel safe and exactly where I’m meant to be. I wake up before Wanda. She is still wrapped around me, and every fiber of my being cries out for me to burrow deeper into her arms and go back to sleep. Thankfully, I have a tiny bit of self-preservation left, and instead, I gently peel her off me and creep back to my own bed. Sliding into the cold sheets feels like salt in the wounds of the past week, but I do it because I can’t bear the thought of waking alone in her bed again.

[redheadspark]

Heyy, can I please request anniversary sex with Druig please (no daddy kink)

Have a nice day <33

A/N - OH MY! This is quite the request, but I would love to write it, thank you Anon!!

Tangled

Summary - Druig always loved celebrating your anniversary, even deep in the Amazon Jungle

Warnings - Just some goof ol' fashioned fluff with some Smut swirled in there! This is not straight SMUT, but it's going to be 18+. NO MINORS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

"Druig.....Druig honey....I c-can't..."

"Yes you can, luv, just let go and let me take good care of ya,"

You leaned back down a bit, his hands bracing your hips as he was rolling his own hips over and over against you, the delicious friction and warm heat was making you sigh with every push and moan with every roll he gave. Your fingers reached out to touch the edge of the blanket in front of you, your eyes opening briefly and seeing the riverbed within feet of you as the water was rolling back with ease. The lush jungle trees high above you made a massive shield from the moonlight that was shining high above as the linger humidity was still along your naked skin and your hair that was stuck against your hair.

This was not how you pictured the night was going to go, but you weren't complaining.

It was all about the settling: the perfect place away from the village and in a peaceful meadow that was next to one of the outer riverbanks that branched out from the Amazon River. It was your perfect place to go to get away from the chore or the responsibilities of running a village: whether you read a book in the quiet afternoon or doing some stretches in the wee hours of the morning. This was your perfect place, and Druig took you there earlier that night with a dinner in tow and some solar power lanterns in hand too.

After the dinner and some snuggling together, now you were here: sprawled out on your knees as Druig took you from behind.

He gave one hard roll, you mewled out and reached out to cover your mouth before you could fall on the blanket. Yet Druig reached around to have an arm around your waist, hoisting you up on yoru knees in front of him as he was stilll fucking you from behind. The chill of the night was around you, making you shiver as he held you tight agianst him. You sensed him all around you within a second: the dampness of his skin, the calloused fingers along your belly and near your bare breasts that moved with every thrust, his sweat that as mixed with the berries he ate at dinner still lingering on his lips as he kissed your jawline and along your earlobe while his hips were still moving rapidly and keeping.

"You feel so fuckin' good all around me, darlin'." He murmured in your ear as he fucked you over and ever, his hold you both possessive and yet gentle at the same time as your eyes rolled back, "I can do this everyday to ya and I'll never get enough. You're nothin' short but gorgeous and amazin', no one else will ever come close, got it?"

"Mmmph," You replied in a moan as he hit that spot deep inside of your. You wanted to fall forward again from how good it was feeling and how close you were to cumming, but Druig was still going hard and deep and not showing any signs go letting up. It didn't occur to you that you both were out in the open in the jungle, the moon high in the sky and the nightlife of the jungle being heard around you. Yet it wouldn't drown out the sounds of slapping skin and your moans that seemed to morph into the river in front of you and perhaps the wind above.

Yet this wasn't the more obscure place you two fucked. But so far, it was on top of the list.

"I can feel your close, aren't ya?" He hissed in your ear as you rapidly nodded your head. He bit your earlobe very gently, giving you a few more thrust before he placed a hand on your lower back and carefully pulled himself out of you. You were about to protest, wondering what he was up to since all you were thinking about and was consumed with was the intense white searing pleasure he was giving you. But Druig kissed your neck lovingly.

"Lay down for me, luv. Come here," He growled, carefully moving to have you on your back on the blanket. You blinked slowly, trying to breathe agian as your bare back touched the cooling blanket and you saw his dark silhouette above you. You licked your lips, reaching up to touch his face and cheeks with sky finger as he move to lay down next to you on the blanket.

A pause in your love making for certain, but it was sensual as you both were watching each other for the briefest of moments. Druig was covered in sweat, like you, and his eyes were twinkling from both the pleasure and the twilight stars and moon high over your heads. He looked beyond gorgeous to you in the moment, completely naked with nothing to shield him or hide behind. You smiled widely, feeling him move his hand to kiss your palm with his plump lips.

It never took time for you two to be there, it was always there for the pair of you ever since you two came together. Druig always entranced you and took your breath away, yet you never thought you would do the same for him. He loved you with all he had within himself, never giving you doubt that his love for you would never die or wane. You felt or him hard and fast, but that love never diminished. Even now, out in the Amazon and running a village together, it always felt like the first time with Druig when he would take you.

"I love ya," He said in a gulp, then moving with his eyes still on you to line his cock up. You kept your gaze, your back arcing as he slid in nice and slow to making you feel everything. He dived in to slid his lips against your neck as your felt all fo his cock nestled inside of you, as if he was made to be the only one fucking you. Your inner walls were clinching him tight, having him moan against your neck as he moved his hands to spread your thighs out a bit more and then start his thirst again.

This new angle was everything.

"Oh...yes...oh yes..YES," You moaned against his ear, knowing he thrived on hearing you moan on his cock as his thrust stayed deep and at a steady pace. Druig wanted to drawl it out of it, almost like an ache that needed to be scratched adn

There was no rush, not tonight.

Other times you had to quick to avoid being caught by the villagers, whether it was in your little shack early in the morning before breakfast, or around the corner against a tress. Those were still exciting and eventful too, and the rush of it all made your orgasms heightened too. There was even one time when he fucked you along the rocks in the river, not caring that you both were making waves and rocks were digging along your back as he railed you. It was still blissful.

But this, this was on another level.

The way your legs were bracketing his hip as he rolled into you again again like an ever repeating mantra, his mouth leaving bite marks along your collarbone to almost show anyone who would dare to look there who you belonged to. One of his hands even moved down to be right where you two were connected, but before he could touch your clit that was so sensitive, you smacked his hand away. He moved up to lock eyes with you, maybe thinking it did something wrong. His face, though blissed out in pleasure, had a hint of concern as you eyed him with your own glassy eyes.

You reached up to like the pad of your thumb, Druig watching you as you moved your thumb to be on your own clit. Druig's eyes widened as you rotated your thumb once, moaning loudly as Druig almost fell on top from you.

"Fuck," He growled, thrusting harder now as you were giving yourself the heightened pleasure. You were feeling so close to cumming, you could almost taste it yourself as Druig wasn't letting up on his thrusts. You were holding onto him for dear life with your spare hand as your thumb was still working rapidly and making you get closer and closer to exploding.

"I'm gonna cum," he muttered against your neck as you felt it in his hips getting more staggered and his breathing hitched. You pushed your chest into him and bit his jaw, making his moan a bit louder as you found your force.

"Cum for me, Druig. Come on, I wanna feel all of it deep inside of me," You groaned against his ear as you felt your inner walls squeezing his cock just at the right time. Druig was now moaning relentlessly against you as he was thrusting harder and keeping into you. With two more strokes of your thumb against your clit, you were now free falling into the best orgasm you've had in some time.

Druig was cumming shortly after, you feeling him collapse on top of you as his hips were staggering a bit while he was riding out his orgasm. The ever high feeling that always came from being with Druig like this, there was nothing else that could compare with this. The feeling al vow your body and under your skin, the sensation of pleasure searing all in your blood and against your chest.

It was spell binding, and it was all thanks to Druig.

Finally, Druig sighed in relief and in happiness as he collapsed next to you on the blanket, carefully pulling out again and you two were sprawled out together to look up at the small opening of the trees that had you see the star scattered sky. The silent yet noisy jungle was heard around you two as you were catching your breaths and gigging like teenagers. You felt Druig move to drape some of the blanket over both of your bare bodies, then leaning over to kiss your cheek a few times while he too was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"One of our better times together, I think. Though I did almost get tangled in some roots," He hummed against your sweaty cheek as you rolled your eyes.

"And who's fault is that?" You asked him in a chuckle as he playfully glared at you, "Was this not your idea to come out here with our best wine?"

"Don't blame me for you looking so alluring in your dress," Druig replied, poking your side as you giggled. He then wrapped you in his arms, both of your skin cooled down. You looked from the sky over to Druig, seeing him watch you with love in his eyes.

"Happy 700th anniversary, my love," He said to you softly, leaning over to kiss you under the stars.

The End.

Tagged: @heartofwritiing @basicrese @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes