#I forgot his full fucking name god damn it

[inhumanazure]

Art dump

(A lot of these are old…but I have given up on digital art honestly (T_T))

Anyways,,might get a new Noel fig or smth soon and I’m getting 2022 gsracing cosplay (^o^)

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

[makeyoumine69]

Daddy Knows Best (Full version)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

CONTAINS: SMUT, seduction, dry humping, hand jobs, oral sex (both receiving), masturbation, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, loss of innocence, praise kink, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, pet names, dirty talk, hair pulling, spanking, slight choking.

A/N: I'm gradually trying to catch up on finishing my WIPs! I decided to rewrite this one a bit and collect all the drabbles in one piece. I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓

God, imagine that one day Patrick would take you to his place, and since you were a virgin, he would seduce you very carefully. Once in his apartment, he would gently take off your coat and lead you into his living room, where he would let you choose the music, and as you flipped through his CD collection, he would admire your beauty, and then he would start stroking your hair and caressing your cheek, before finally crashing his lips against yours in a lustful kiss. You would moan into his mouth, and he would lift you up in his arms and move to the couch, sit on it and make you mount him so he could grab your ass and pull up your skirt. Trembling visibly, you would whimper from the way your soaked pussy rubbed against the big bulge in his pants and your tentative, sexy sounds would only spur Bateman to pull you closer to make the friction even more intense.

"Mhmm...Patrick...you're so…" You would hiccup as he bounced you on his lap. "Is that… is that because of me?"

Your shy question would make him chuckle softly into your ear, tickling the delicate skin around it. "Yes, little one," his raspy voice would make you squirm in his arms, the heat between your legs driving him crazy. "You're making Daddy so hard," he'd gently take your hand and place it right on his aching groin. "Wanna check?"

Speechless, you just nodded, unable to even mumble a sound, and this sight of your numbness only fueled his desire to corrupt you here and now, though he might admit that this time he actually wanted to take it slowly.

"Uh, such a curious kitten," he murmured as he casually unbuckled his belt. "So eager to discover new things Daddy can give you?"

Gasping, you hid your heated face in your hands for a brief moment as the sexual tension between the two of you was too overwhelming—it threatened to wash over you like a tsunami, but you were ready to embrace it.

"Yes," just one word was enough to make him growl in a hoarse voice as he finally released his hard length. "But I've never done anything like this before...I've never..." you literally forgot how to breathe as you looked down between his wide-open legs. "I..."

Damn, he was so big. Just looking at him sent shivers down your spine and caused your inner muscles to clench in phantom pain.

Bateman couldn't help but laughed heartily as he found your shock quite amusing. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling you closer as he rhythmically pumped his throbbing dick.

"You're so big, Daddy," you admitted nervously, turning away to avoid looking down. "W-why are you so big?"

Grinning arrogantly, Patrick took your chin and forced you to face him. "Well, I guess I won the genetic lottery, honey." With that, he swiftly grabbed your hand to replace his own, sliding it up and down his hot flesh. "Fuck," he moaned softly, tilting his head back. "You have such small but cute hands...mmhhm...they feel so good on my dick. Keep going," he whispered in your ear, squeezing your waist to keep you close. "Yes...just like that... you're doing so good...f-fuck!"

His breath hitched at every amateur stroke you made, and soon you could feel a few drops of his warm pre-cum running down his red, swollen tip—this image made you lick your lips in a rush of hunger you had never experienced before.

"Do you want me to... taste you?" You pureed against his flushed cheek, eliciting an amused chuckle from his solid chest.

"No need to ask, kitten," he gently placed his palm on the back of your neck as a sign of agreement. "But I won't lie... your naivety really turns me on."

With that, Bateman kissed you hard on the lips before leading you down to his throbbing dick, encouraging you to take it into your warm mouth, and as you wrapped your soft lips around his leaking tip, Patrick couldn't help but moan loudly, throwing his head back.

"Fuck," he grabbed a handful of your soft hair and set the pace of your bobbing movements. "Your mouth feels so good, baby."

You just mewled around his hot flesh, trying to concentrate on breathing through your nose so as not to choke on his huge shaft and not to think about how much it would hurt if you decided to go further in this dangerous game of unbridled lust.

"Use your pretty hands too," he commented all of the sudden before sprawling on the couch to give you more room. "It will help."

Embarrassed as hell, you encircled the base of his thick cock with your both hands without ceasing to suck on his drooling tip. Each low growl he made was setting you on fire, making you dripping so badly.

"Mmhm," you whimpered when Bateman pushed you down, thrusting deeper into your mouth, but the next moment he gently pulled on your hair to force you to look at him. "I did something wrong, Daddy?"

Patrick sneered ever so hauntingly, tracing his thumb along your glistening lips to smear his pre-cum along them. "No, little one," he pulled you into a ravenous kiss, your tongues sliding along each other, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. "You did it so fucking well, that’s why I stopped you," Bateman crooned and shifted your position, so now you were beneath him on the couch. "Because I'm not finished with you yet."

Without breaking eye contact, Patrick slowly drew his thin finger along your taut lower lips, coaxing a muffled gasp to break out from your quickly raising chest. Then, he pulled on the lace of your damp panties as he watched your reaction and when you didn’t protest, he tugged them down in one quick motion.

"Such an obedient girl," he hummed to himself, stroking his arching length with his free hand. “Now, listen to me very carefully,” he petted your legs and opened them wider, so he could set himself between them. "I need you to do exactly what I say. Got it?"

Bateman didn't bother to wait for your answer, he easily shifted your position so that your face was now pressed against the armrest of his spacious white couch and your pretty ass was up in the air.

"A-ah!" You whimpered pretty loudly as he glided his long fingers over your oozing folds—the slick sound driving you crazy. "Pat-Patrick-mhmm!" 

Clinging to the edge of the couch, you trembled more intensely with each inch Bateman moved closer to your innocent, tight hole, and when you felt his index finger poking at your wet opening, you had to bite your lower lip from an odd sensation that was both painful and exciting.

With a dark smirk, the man descended to your exposed pussy to give it a few licks before he slid two fingers inside of you at once, eliciting a shaky moan from your bruised throat. "Uh...you have such a little tight pussy," Patrick remarked, paying no attention to the way you were writhing on the couch, quivering and whimpering some unrecognizable nonsense. "Daddy's gonna make you feel so good...mmhm...so fucking good."

Frowning from the tearing sensation in your lower abdomen, you wanted to ask him to stop, but instead you just clutched the soft material beneath you, doing your best not to start crying. "Keep talking to me...please," your voice wavered from your heavy breathing, several drops of sweat running down your temples. "Daddy...a-awww!"

A loud, obscene sound of him slapping your ass bounced off the walls of his apartment, forcing all your nerve endings to ignite from hypersensitivity. 

"You seem to forget who is in charge here," Bateman scolded, pulling at your hair and lifting your head so he could see your frightened, doe eyes. "Your innocent hole can't even imagine how full I'm gonna make it."

All the while, Patrick was pumping his throbbing cock to keep himself hard, only to suddenly thrust into your moist entrance, forcing all your insides to cramp into a knot.

"A-aghhh, Patrick!" You cried out, but then your opened mouth froze in a silent scream as his fat tip pushed through the tight obstacle, causing you so much pain, but Bateman didn't care. "It hurts...ahhh... it hurts so bad...mmm," a hard slap on your hip silenced you for a while, but he didn't stop ramming into you with renewed force. "So big...so b-b-big...I can't...I can't take it!"

"Shhh," his harsh shushing only made you more anxious than relaxed as the man's grip on your hair tightened until they were almost wrapped around his big fist. "You can take it…your needy cunt clinging so hard to my dick," as soon as he uttered that, Patrick put his one leg on the couch and grabbed your shoulder for leverage to finally bottom you out competently, even though his dick was still not fully inside you. "Yeah...just like that...uh-fuck..."

Throwing his head back, Bateman slammed his firm hips into yours, the curve of his dick stretching your virgin inner channel in a sickening way, making you see stars and literally bite the armrest of that fucking white couch.

"O-ohhh, my goodness," you stuttered as the man changed your position again, forcing you to get on your knees and bend over the back of the couch, his veiny cock popping out of your sore slit, giving you a short break before Patrick filled you again, this time holding you tightly and not allowing you to stray. "Slow down! Please...mhmm-slow down-"

But Bateman was relentless and ferocious when he finally had you in his hands, and he was not going to let you go, not when your inner, velvety walls were so perfectly encasing his dick. Besides, the very idea of breeding you, claiming you in such a primal way, made him throb inside you, his fingers digging into your skin where bruisers would surely bloom after he would be done with you.

"You know," Patrick stopped abruptly, pulling out only to slap your glistening pussy. "I remember...you said you wanted to belong to one man...forever and ever...didn't you?"

Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes for a second, trying to pull yourself together as the mixture of different, foreign sensations was tearing you apart as much as Patrick's girth.

"Yes..." you replied curtly, propping yourself up on your elbows. "I did."

With a mischievous grin, the man gave himself a few quick strokes before leaning down again and lapping at your dripping slit, savoring your taste like his favorite meal. Your shaky breathing and constant trembling was what he craved most from this encounter; he knew you were already his, but he wanted to push your limits even further.

"You said that just for fun or..." he murmured between licking and sucking your swollen folds. "Did you really mean it?"

The man emphasized his question with a feverish flicker around your clit, but then he plunged his wet tongue into you, holding your hips so firmly that you couldn't move away even an inch. All of this was already too much for you, but his question was the last drop for you to fall apart and lose your mind.

"I meant t-that," you blurted out almost breathlessly, not really realizing what you were saying. "I...really did!

"Very well then," Bateman growled, stepping back to lift you off the couch. "Because this...is what I'm about to do," he held you tightly in his arms as he walked to his bedroom and when you reached the door Patrick stopped and set you down. "I'm gonna make you mine...like you always wanted in your pink dreams."

In one deft motion, the man turned you around and pressed your face against the doorjamb, not really showing affection, but not being too rough either. Struck by a strange fatigue, you grabbed the wooden doorjamb with your weak hands and sensed his warm body pressing against you from behind again, covering you like a blanket. You were completely bewildered, lost in the whirlpool of emotions mixed with shameful depravity, and that's why you probably didn't really understand the gravity of the situation and what was about to happen and what was hidden behind Bateman's words.

This time Patrick slipped into you like clockwork, feeling no resistance at all, and that induced him to sink even deeper until you squirmed in his arms, trying to find something to hold on to, but your hands were unable to grasp the doorjamb because its material was too smooth. Growling thickly, the man slammed into you with ferocious hunger, admiring the arch of your back, how your ass cheeks jiggled with each thrust. 

"I wish you could see what I see," Bateman grunted through his clenched teeth, sweat buds running down his tense forehead, his eyebrows knitted together as he concentrated on penetrating you in steady but wickedly deep strokes. "You look so fucking hot like that...one day I'm going to film us having sex...I swear."

You moaned in response as he forced you to bend over even more so he could look down at your face as he fucked you silly. "Daddy...I'm burning...f-from the inside...it's so deep..."

Patrick chuckled at your miserable attempts to claw at his hands as he suddenly planted an almost affectionate kiss on the top of your head—this little gesture made you stall and open your eyes wide—and pressed you even closer, wrapping both his hands around your throat and squeezing it a bit.

"You belong to me now," he whispered in your ear, desperately snuggling into your small form, making your hard peaks rub against the wooden doorjamb. "...and I will pump you with my seed...until you get pregnant," the man nibbled on your earlobe and tugged at your messy hair. "I'll do it again and again..."

Your face inflamed from the inside, you thought your skin would burn from the heat your bodies radiated, and as soon as you felt his pounding become more erratic and ragged, you knew he was close. With one hand still on your throat, Bateman used his free hand to cup and squeeze your full breast as he chased his release, feeling the tingling that formed at the base of his dick and spread throughout his muscular body. Yet, in the back of his mind, he wished he could last longer to make you fucking faint, but even for a man like him with such a crazy sex drive, that was too much. Closing his eyes, Patrick drove his hips forward against yours for the last time, rolling them slightly to bury himself as deep as he could, painting your inner walls white and he couldn't help but moan when he was finally spent, filling you to the brim just as he had promised.

"Good girl," he huffed, nuzzling against your craned neck. "You've got a lot to learn... but I'll make sure you do your best to please me."

With that, the man cradled you in his strong arms, and for the first time in his life, he felt complete, having finally found a woman he wanted to claim as his own. And damn those who would dare to argue with it.

[Daddy Knows Best 2.0]

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[mykoreanlove]

just another day at the dorms - bang chan version

He had you sitting on his lap for what felt like hours. His big hands gripped your hips tightly, not allowing you to move away from him, not even an inch.

Each time you were close to him like this, you forgot everything around you – time, space, other people – all irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was him.

Your tongues were entangled for hours, kissing him just felt so damn good. He made you feel good – every single time. Your hands grabbed his dark hair and pulled lightly, which made him let out a hiss.

“Careful, y/n. Don’t start what you can’t finish, baby girl.”

You bit your lip innocently, smiling at him with big eyes. “I don’t know what you mean, Chris.”

He laughed whole-heartedly.

“What’s so funny?”

He observed you, clearly amused by your innocence. “I just think it’s funny how you call me Chan when we are dancing or playing uno or smooching on the sofa.” He straightened his back and pulled you closer to him.

“But when I do this-”, he paused and sucked on the sensitive skin under your ear. God, that felt good. Your breathing got shallow as you felt your pussy throb, clenching your thighs in response.

“Or this-“, he slid down your top and pushed down your lacy bra, now facing your hardened pink nipple. Slowly, he started licking around it until he attacked it with full force and sucked on your tit. “Oh fuck”, you moaned out in pleasure. He smirked and proceeded, his hands going south.

“Or this-“, and with that he pushed his two fingers inside of you and sucked in his breath. He enjoyed it nearly as much as you did. Feeling his long fingers gliding in and out of you drove you wild, you could hardly contain yourself. He curved his fingers, hitting all the right spots which made you grip his shoulders tightly. “C-.. Ch..- Oh fuck!” You couldn’t even moan his name anymore; he got you fucked on his fingers. He pulled up his hand, sucking off his fingers. Deliciously sucking off all of you.

“That’s right baby. Every time I have you like this you call me Chris.”

[theemporium]

can i request 💜 "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know." with luke hughes please!!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know."

.

In a sport like hockey, you got used to being called a variety of different names for a variety of stupid reasons. 

Some made sense. Some had a funny backstory. Some were born from an embarrassing memory you could never escape. Some had no real correlation but it was used once and it stuck and now the whole team used it. It was just one of the dynamics of hockey that you got used to pretty early on. 

And the thing was that Luke didn’t hate his name. He didn’t, it would have broken his parents heart if he said as much. It just wasn’t exactly like he was ecstatic for people to throw ‘Luke Warren Hughes’ at him. Or at least, he didn’t like it when his middle name was brought into the locker room. 

Maybe it was PTSD from the teasing he got when he was in middle school. Maybe it was the fact it sounded a little like it belonged to a sixty year old man. Or maybe it was because he was so damn used to being known as ‘Luke Hughes’ or ‘the other Hughes’, that he sometimes forgot he had a middle name.

Whatever the reason was, Luke never liked it being used in the locker room by the boys. He didn’t really like the name being used, full stop. Unless it was one of his parents using it. He thought he managed to avoid it for years until he joined the New Jersey Devils and met the team—met you.

Because, for some fucking reason that was beyond his own understanding, every rule and belief Luke had went flying out the window when it came to you. 

Including the use of his middle name.

“God, Warren, couldn’t even use a comb this morning?” 

Luke felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted his head to find you wandering into the locker room. Most of the team were already out on the ice, but Luke was one of the stragglers that was still getting his gear on. It wasn’t his fault the team decided team pictures needed to be taken at an ungodly hour before practice. 

“Does it look that bad?” Luke questioned, trying to ignore the pleasant twist in his stomach when you flashed him a smile and made your way over to him.

“I think it looks cute,” you replied, lip tucked between your teeth as you reached out to gently run your fingers through his curls. “Curtis might give you some shit though.”

“Curtis always gives me shit,” he mumbled, letting his eyes flutter shut as your nails gently scraped along his scalp. 

“Hm, well tell him to come talk to me if he gives you a hard time for your curls,” you said, and even with his eyes closed, he could hear the smile in your voice. 

His cheeks burned as he tilted his head back to look at you, his own smile mirroring yours. “Gonna be my knight in shining armour?” 

“M’always gonna have your back, Warren,” you replied, your voice a little softer. A little more genuine. 

He swallowed. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.” 

Your smile widened. “Oh, I know. Jack told me you once got into a fight during a game back in middle school after some guy on the other team used it.”

He groaned a little at the memory. “Quinn and Jack gave me so much shit after that. They called me Warren for a week after that.” 

You snorted. “What did you do?”

“I told on them,” he admitted, a little sheepish. “They got grounded for a week.” 

You laughed and his smile widened at the sound.

“So how come you let me use it?” You asked, something else in your voice that Luke couldn’t quite name but it still made his heart speed up a little.

“I guess I like you more than them.” It was meant to come out light-hearted and teasing, but it felt far too heavy and suggestive once the words left his mouth.

“Enough to grab something to eat after practice?” You asked, so casual and calm like you couldn’t see the way Luke’s whole face was burning a pretty shade of red. 

“More than enough,” he said with a nod, unable to fight the grin off his face when you smiled back.

“Then better get your pretty ass out there before the boys make you do drills after practice for being late,” you teased, laughing as you watched him quickly shove on the rest of his gear before rushing out the door.

.

[bambisworlds]

weekly tryst

cassian meets with a teacher at nyx's school once a week. she's the most perfect thing he's ever seen (1,698 word count)

content warnings, mdni 18+

f!reader, just pure smut, oral (f. receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, slight size kink, use of good girl, spanking (once), cassian's down bad for her, let me know if i forgot anything x

my masterlist

note: we’re just gonna pretend nesta doesn’t exist or she ended up with eris lol. also i basically just use the name bambi instead of Y/N cause i get sick of typing it so imagine her however you want :)

Cassian was hooked. That was the only way to put it. Ever since he spent that first night with Bambi… he was addicted. Cassian had offered to pick Nyx up from kindergarten a couple times last month to help Rhys and Feyre out. Feyre was pregnant with their second child, while Azriel had been busy with Gwyn, his newfound mate. Cassian didn’t mind helping out though, he was Nyx’s uncle after all. 

What he didn’t expect was Bambi. She was the first grade teacher at Nyx’s school, and gods… Cassian thought she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Soft hips and full lips on such a small package. Cassian is 6’7, so even though Bambi was 5’5 he still towered over her. Her head only reached his shoulder.

He wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but he wound up with Bambi tangled up with him in his bed two days later fucking like rabbits for 4 hours straight before he finally passed out in a heap of exhaustion. Now, it has been a month of their weekly Saturday night trysts and Cassian was utterly obsessed with her.

Cassian’s eyes were rolled back into his head as he feasted on Bambi’s cunt, his paws for hands resting on her belly and sides. She somehow tasted better each time he ate her out, so naturally Cassian stayed between her legs longer every time he saw her. He had drool all over his lips, chin, and neck from how thoroughly drunk on her cunt he was., She tasted so damn good. 

A sweet little gasp and arch of her back caught Cassian’s attention and he looked up at her. He smirked against her pussy as he watched her head turn back and forth every few seconds on the pillow like she couldn’t keep still. Cassian hummed against her clit, his large hands moving up to cup and squeeze her breasts, earning another gasp from Bambi. She had her legs bent and pulled up against her chest, her toes curling as Cassian began to thrust his tongue in and out of her. Cassian never considered himself to be one of those guys with a foot fetish, but even her toes somehow managed to look sexy. 

Bambi’s lips formed a ‘o’ shape and her hand flew down to grip onto his long locks as she reached her peak, letting out a string of moans, gasps, and squeaks. Cassian could only moan like a wanton whore between her legs, his tongue lapping languidly at her entrance to catch every drop of her juices. When she did her usual sigh of satisfaction Cassian pulled back and snaked his arms underneath her thighs. He lifted her effortlessly as Bambi squeaked in surprise, her hands flying to grip onto his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. As if he’d let her.

Cassian quickly sat on the edge of the bed, positioning Bambi in his lap. “Need you to ride me baby,” Cassian murmurs breathily, his arms wrapping around her to keep her steady. Bambi nodded mindlessly and pressed herself against him, kissing him with a soft moan. Cassian’s grip on her tightened as he worked his tongue into her mouth, almost wanting to swallow up all her saliva. That’s how obsessed he was with her, “You’ve got the most perfect fucking body…” Cassian mumbles against her lips with a slight shake of his head in disbelief. She smiled against his lips from his compliment, followed by a grumbling growl from Cassian. Even her smile turned him on. “Never mind, you can ride me later.” Cassian muttered, flipping them over so Bambi’s ass was hanging off the edge of the bed.

Cassian shoved her thighs apart widely so each of her knees touched the mattress as he slapped his cock against her pussy. “Gonna get you nice and full again, huh?” he smirks, teasingly sliding only the head of his cock into her. Bambi moaned raggedly and her head fell back against the bed. Cassian slid deeper with a groan, “Oh yeah… gonna get this pussy nice and full.” he murmured as he slid all the way in. Bambi gasped and her eyes squeezed shut. Nobody had ever made her feel as full as he did. Cassian’s wings flared as he bottomed out inside her with a rugged groan. 

His big hands gripped her thighs, pulling her closer to him so he sunk even deeper into her. “Goddamn,” he panted as the head of his cock nudged insistently against her cervix, the muscles in his lower back twitched with the incessant urge to rut into her like an animal. Cassian maneuvered himself over her so his forearms were braced on either side of her head, "How's that feel baby?” Cassian asks, his voice low, seductive, and somehow controlled despite her vice-like grip on his cock.

“G-Good,” Bambi managed to gasp out, her legs wiggling slightly and chest heaving from the near unbearable fullness of his cock. Cassian smirked proudly at her reaction, this cute little thing had no idea how atrociously down bad he was for her. 

“Nice and full now, aren’t you?” Cassian says as he leans even closer to his nose nudges against her cheek with a long inhale. He loved her scent. His hand pushed down on her lower belly as he spoke.

“Mhm,” Bambi whimpers, her breathing ragged. Cassian kissed her cheek, down her jaw, and grazed his teeth against his neck.

“If you were my mate I’d have you stuffed full of my cock 23 hours a day,” Cassian murmurs against her neck, leaving wet kisses on her skin.

“Not 24?” Bambi asks, a tremor in her voice from the unrelenting pressure of his cock against her g-spot.

“Gotta save an hour so I can taste your sweet little pussy,” he says as if it was obvious. Bambi shivered with a slight moan and Cassian chuckles, “Such a cute girl…” he murmurs before straightening up slightly for momentum as he begins to thrust. Bambi whimpered again, her trembling hands moving to grip onto the sheets. Cassian’s hands sneaked underneath her, lifting her by the lower back so his cock hit a new spot inside her. From her little smile and surprised gasp, he took it as a sign she liked it, “Mmm good girl,” he praised huskily as her moans grew a little louder. She was always so timid at first, but by the time he was done with her she was always a cock drunk mess. Cassian kept his left hand on her lower belly, pressing firmly on it, causing Bambis’ eyes to roll back with a choked moan. Cassian smirked triumphantly, her shy nature beginning to crumble as usual. 

“That’s it, let everything else go,” Cassian grunted, picking up speed so her body bounced on the mattress. Bambi’s hands clawed at the sheets, her breasts bouncing wildly as he pounded into her. His eyes drank in the sight of her, “Goddamn you’re perfect,” he said breathily amidst his unrelenting thrusts, “You’re my perfect little girl aren’t you?” Cassian asks with a shaky moan.

Bambi nodded eagerly, “Y-Yeah,” she squeaked out.

“Damn right you are,” Cassian grits out, shoving her onto her side and holding one of her legs up so he reaches new spots inside her. Bambi cried out from the new angle, her eyes squeezing shut with rapid breaths. Cassian moaned lowly at the sight of her pert ass jiggling with each thrust and he let go of her thigh only long enough to place a loud smack on her ass. Bambi whimpered from the sharp sting of his hand, but her mouth quickly fell back open with an unrestrained moan. Cassian reached back with his free hand to caress the side of his wing, shivers and sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine with a choked moan. Wanting her to touch his wings instead, he pulled out of her sopping cunt and pulled her into his arms before sitting on the bed. Without wasting a second Cassian quickly plunged back inside her, his hands gripping her hips to lift her up and down on him before she could even catch up with what he was doing.

“Touch my wings,” he demands between ragged breaths. Bambi nods mindlessly, barely able to keep her eyes open as he manhandles her up and down on his cock. She traced two fingers along the edges of his right wing and he moaned raggedly, pulling her down even harder onto his cock now. 

“Oh g-gods,” Bambi gasped, her eyes shutting and mouth falling open, her fingers still absentmindedly dancing along the edge of his wing. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” Cassian grits out, reaching his peak far quicker than usual from the stimulation on his wings. Cassian slammed her down hard onto his cock as he came with a strangled groan, his hips bucking off the bed to try to reach even deeper inside her which was practically impossible. “Holy fuck,” Cassian gasps out, his tone hoarse from the intensity of his orgasm, “Oh gods…” he sighs as the tension in his body finally began to subside, his hips still pumping slightly, “Holy shit,” he mutters, looking up at Bambi who was equally as winded but still coherent, which wouldn’t do, “Need you to cum for me still,” Cassian pants, lifting her up and down on his cock again with another strangled moan, his cock was nearly unbearably sensitive from just orgasming but he didn’t care. She hadn’t finished yet. His seed had begun to leak out from around his cock, dripping down onto his balls.

“Gonna… I’m gonna…” Bambi babbles, her hands clawing and gripping at his shoulders. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna-” Cassian gasps helplessly. The vein in his neck nearly popped out as he came again, this time with Bambi’s cunt clenching exquisitely around him. His head fell back with a strangled cry, fucking her through their orgasms, “Oh fuck, oh gods,” he rambled, still pumping into her as Bambi sobbed and moaned while her body turned to jelly atop him. When they were both finally spent with only the sounds of their heavy breathing filling the room Cassian spoke up, “So… same time next week?”

if you have any fic requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below or on my masterlist!! (check here: about my blog  to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)

[lesservillain]

strange lights masterlist

summary: everything goes wrong. twice.

cw: sexual tension, fighting, reader breaks their hand

wc: 7.9k

The annoying lack of street lights down on this road, coupled with the fact you haven’t been to Lover’s Lake since you were eight years old was making it near impossible to figure out where the hell you were supposed to be going. Heather told you to pull into Crystal View where the lake houses and vacation cabins were to find a place to park, but she forgot to mention where the party was in proximity to the small subdivision. 

After turning down the radio to see better, you drive for the third, maybe fourth time down the same road in search for a sign of life in the trees. When the almost full moon decides to peak out from behind the clouds you’re able to see smoke above the treeline. Throwing your car into park in front of an empty cabin, you make the trek towards the smoke. Thankfully someone was playing music so loud that you could hear it at the edge of the wood, so you follow it like a siren song until light started breaking through the thicket. Voices could be heard even over the music, yelling and laughter giving away that this party was packed. 

When you finally break through into the clearing you’re instantly overwhelmed. There’s no way that there were only members of Hawkins' young adult scene in attendance with the sheer amount of bodies that were present. And, my god, did it absolutely reek of weed. Not that you care if people partake in a little devil’s lettuce, but damn. Pushing through the crowd of people looking for a familiar face, a hand lands on your shoulder and makes you jump. Turning around, fully prepared to shrug a creep off, you’re relieved to see Jonathan Byers instead.

“Oh, shit, hey,” you say, going in for a quick hug, “I didn’t know you’d be here. Didn’t take you for a party type.”

He gives you a quick pat on the back, nodding his head, “Thanks, call me a loser more subtly next time.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant!” 

He pushes your shoulder, giggling like an idiot. “Nah, man it’s cool I know you’re just joking.”

“Oh my god, Jonathan Byers are you fucking high right now,” you laugh, pushing his shoulder back.

“Pfft, no you’re high right now,” his slur makes you think he might actually be cross faded. Little shy Jonathan Byers who used to sit by himself at recess was high as a kite in front of you right now. It looks like he’s about to say something else, but a guy standing behind him gets his attention. His brown curls and soft features seem familiar to you, but you can’t place who you’re looking at. 

You don’t get to ponder on it much more when your name is called from across the party. Heather is jumping and waving from where she’s mingling with a small group of people, Barb being one of them as she stands behind her. You give Jonathan a quick see you later and make your way over to Heather’s waiting arms.

Immediately she brings you in for a tight hug, and you can smell the Smirnoff Ice on her breath when she squeals in your ear. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you came!” She pulls away, grabbing your arms to turn you towards her circle of friends. “Guys, this is my new coworker that I’ve been talking about!”

Doing a quick scan of the circle, you don’t seem to know anyone. However, when you look past the guy directly in front of you, you pick up on the other three that you saw at the diner that say. Steve Harrington talking to -- or rather being talked to by some super sloppy drunk frat bro as Tommy and Carol make out at the bench they're sitting at. Even from where you stand you can tell that he’s completely checked out.

“This is Tammy,” Heather places a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You introduce yourself to Tammy, her southern accent reminding you of your neighbors in Arizona that had moved in from Texas. The three of you talk for a bit. Well, you stand there listening to them talk about whatever came to mind. They both have so much energy that you can barely get a word in anyway. 

A cup being placed in your hands pulls you out of the conversation. Barb stood next to you, a knowing expression on her face as she takes a sip of her own drink. “You know you’re being stared at right,” she says after a moment, her eyes looking behind you. 

Following her line of vision, you’re surprised to find a pair of hazel eyes staring you down. No longer being entertained by the belligerent college student, Steve leans against the bench, annoyance written all over his face. You expected him to look away when he realized he’d been caught, pretending that he was looking at anything else but you. Instead he pushes off the bench and makes his way straight to you. You watched as some of the party goers moved out of the way as he walked, anticipating his approach and cowering away.

Between his behavior at Benny’s back at the beginning of the summer and the way his presence seems to instill a fear in those around him made you wish he would just walk past you right now. Maybe you could make a break for it before he got to you, if you just pushed through the crowd--

Oh. What’s that smell? 

It’s strong, musk maybe, with a hint of sweetness that reminded you of the natural smell of mint or maybe eucalyptus. It made your head feel fuzzy.

“Hey.”

He was so close. You could faintly smell the beer on his breath as he spoke in your ear. His voice was slightly fried and it sent little sparks throughout your body. With his close proximity you realized that the smell was coming from him as it flooded your nostrils. It didn’t have that chemical smell that you’d gotten used to from men’s cologne over the years, so whatever he was wearing must be expensive. It made sense, Heather always referred to him as King Steve with the way he ruled the high school when he was in attendance leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him with every girl (and guy according to some rumors) that fell under his spell. Another reason why you should be trying to run away, but your body wasn’t cooperating with your brain at the moment.

“Hi,” you didn’t recognize the voice that came out of your mouth, “Can I help you?”

His smile made your heart flutter, and his laugh made you feel weak at the knees. He towered over you, his solid athletic frame silhouetted as he blocked the light from the fire behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck. When he says your name it makes you straighten up. You realize he’s asking you a question.

“Yes, yeah, that’s my name,” you stutter, dying inside from embarrassment. He nods, “I thought so. It’s a pretty name, fitting for a pretty girl.” His words hit you in the face like a brick, and suddenly you could turn into a puddle at his feet. You mutter a thanks, eyes looking anywhere but his face in an attempt to regain your composure.

“I wanted to, uh, apologize for the other day. At Benny’s. I’m sorry if I came off as a jerk.” You look up at him again, his expression soft, sincere. 

“It’s okay, I understand,” you place a hand on his arm, “Jonathan said you had a rough morning. Something about your breakfast not agreeing with you. Don’t worry about it.” 

“My breakfast…” You watch as he turns towards the party, neck craning to a stop where you can see Jonathan sitting in a circle with the guy he was talking to earlier and a couple others. He looks over in your direction, clearly high out of his mind as he waves at the two of you. You let out a snort, and Steve shakes his head as he turns back to you.

“Either way, I should have introduced myself better,” he looks you up and down. It made your clothes feel tight the way his eyes wandered over your body. You started to second guess your choice of attire for the evening.

“Well, maybe we can start over?” you suggested, looking up at him through your lashes. He crosses his arms, the sleeves of his polo squeezing his biceps. He leans into you, bodies almost touching as he takes up your entire vision. “I think I’d like that,” he says, eyes looking at your lips.

“Hey, Steve!” Both of you turn as his name is called, Tommy and Carol pushing their way through the crowd towards you. “We got trouble. Leech at 10 o’clock.” Steve takes a couple steps back, looking between you and something off in the distance. Tommy and Carol stand behind him, and suddenly Jonathan and his group are there as well. Slowly you turn, eyes on the tree line with theirs. You start to feel uneasy, unsure of what they’re waiting on to emerge from the cover of the trees.

Not a moment later you watched movement coming from the brush as a body became illuminated by the moonlight. You had to do a double take when you saw who it was, brown curls bouncing in as he fought his way through a bush. He came.

“Eddie!” You called out for him. You could see his smile from where you stood when he heard you. As you went to go to him a hand grabbed you by the arm stopping you. Steve stepped in front of you, eyes locked on Eddie in a fierce scowl. Eddie stopped just a few feet short, smile reaching his eyes.

“Hey, there, princess,” he addressed you, ignoring Steve’s presence, “Sorry I’m late. Had some stuff to take care of.”

Steve huffed a laugh, “Stuff? Can’t even come up with a proper excuse, huh?”

Eddie finally looks to Steve, eyeing him up and down. “Sorry, when I said princess I was referring to her,” he nods his head to you, “But if you want me to call you princess, too…I think we could make that happen.” 

Jonathan and his crew let out little giggles at Eddie’s words, and Carol swats at them to stop. When you look at Steve, you are expecting him to be furious, but his expression reads almost flustered for a moment before shaking it off. “S-shut up, freak. What the hell are you doing here, anyway? You know you’re not welcome here.”

You step in front of Steve now, facing him as you stand between him and Eddie, “What? Why isn’t he allowed to be here?” Steve’s mouth opens slightly, looking between your eyes as he tries to conjure the words to say. 

“H-he’s…he’s just not.” Unsatisfied with his excuse, you turn on your heel with a humph, walking over to join Eddie. You stand next to him, grabbing his hand. It’s cold to the touch, like it could melt from the heat of your palm. Eddie looks to your hands, then to your face, but you don’t react, keeping your attention on Steve. 

“Well, he came here to see me,” you state, standing your ground. Eddie’s eyes light up, and he looks at Steve smugly.

“Yeah, she invited me.”

You watch as Tommy, Carol and the rest all look at Steve, the party around them completely oblivious to anything happening. Steve shakes his head, puffing out his chest, “You know the rules. No leeches on this side of the lake.”

You scoff, pulling Eddie closer to you, “Fine then. Let’s go, Eddie.” He lets you guide him, waving his free hand over his shoulder as you head back towards the brush. Steve’s panicked voice calls for you to stop, but you ignore him, the two of you pushing further into the woods until the sound of the party starts to sound far away. 

When you come to a stop, you drop Eddie’s hand and grumble in frustration. “Ugh, what a fucking ass hole.” You turn to look at Eddie to find he’s looking very intently at the hand you were holding, a goofy grin plastered on his face. You hold your own hand, feeling the slight chill that lingered from his touch. “I’m sorry,” you say, and he finally looks up at you, “I’m sorry he was being such a jerk to you.”

Eddie dismisses you, waving a hand flippantly, “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m used to it by now.” He takes a few wide steps, closing the gap between you. Big, honey brown eyes look down at you, almost glowing with the way the moon light hits them through the cracks in the trees. 

Standing with him like this, just the two of you alone in the woods, you think about how many times you’ve been told to stay away. That the man standing in front of you is dangerous, a monster. And from what you’ve seen, what you’ve felt…maybe he is. But, in this moment, you’ve never felt more safe. 

“I do appreciate you stepping in to save me from the big bad wolf.”

“It’s no big deal,” you say with a shrug, “I guess…that makes us even for the car thing…”

He goes quiet for a moment, just looking at you like he’s trying to find something written on your face. It starts to worry you, you hope you didn’t take things too far. You didn’t want him to run away from you again. 

“Can I show you something?” His question surprises you, but you nod with excitement. He takes your hand in his, and you take notice that it feels warmer than before. He doesn’t give you much time to think about it before he’s leading you along through the woods. As the two of you bob and weave through the trees, you decide to take advantage of the situation and try and crack open his shell.

“So, what beef do you have with Steve that you’re banned from Loch Nora parties?”

He chuckles, tilting his head a bit, “It’s not anything personal with Steve. He pretends to hate me more than he actually does…” He trails off for a moment. You watch the way he sticks his tongue out as he thinks and laugh to yourself. “Remember how I told you this town doesn’t like my family?” You nod, he smiles, “Well, it’s mostly because the top dogs that stay in Loch Nora are the ones who hate us the most. There are other people who hate us without the assistance of the House Wives of the Loch spreading rumors at their little club meetings and in line at the grocery store. But, the majority of this town looooooves to gossip.” You’re not sure if it’s purposeful, but he keeps squeezing your hand as he talks.

“That’s not a good enough excuse for me,” you shake your head in frustration, “He was being a dick because, what, someone else told him he should not like you? Stupid.”

“It is stupid in most circumstances,” he shrugs, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “But, you never know. Maybe some of the rumors are true?” 

Your mind immediately goes to your conversation with Heather and Barb. “Well, there’s no way the rumors I’ve heard about you are true.”

“Oh, really? Well now I want to know what you’ve heard,” he says, eyebrows lifting into his bangs. There are times where he’s walking so fast you feel like he’s going to start dragging you, but he slows down when he notices you struggling to keep up. 

“Funny thing, Heather is convinced that you’re, like, a vampire or something,” you try to say as nonchalantly as possible. He’s quiet for a moment, but you hear him covering his mouth with his hand as he laughs. “Whaaaat,” you start to laugh with him.

“I’m sorry that’s just so stupid,” his hand runs over his curls. He looks at you with that million dollar smile and you feel your knees get weak. 

“Yeah, I know, right?” You say, trying to cover up that you may have believed it a little bit. The two of you walk a little bit further until you see trees starting to clear at the top of a small hill. Once you reach the top, you take in the sight of a huge rock with strange shaping to it. It sits amongst smaller rocks, creating a small gap underneath. He lets go of your hand, much to your dismay, and approaches the structure. 

“This is skull rock,” he says as he pats the side of the largest rock. You walk closer to it, the size of it only seems to grow as you approach it like an optical illusion. 

“Wooooow, it’s huge,” you say in awe. He lets out a snort, trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh my god, you are so immature,” you say as you try to fight your own laughter.

“Sorry, sorry,” he clears his throat, “that, uh, that's probably not the first time someone has said that here, though.”

“Really,” you say with curiosity. You take a step towards him. 

“Oh, yeah. Kids back in the 80’s used to come out here to mess around all the time. You know they call it Lover’s Lake out here for a reason.”

You take another step closer. “So you’re saying that, hypothetically, if someone were to bring another person out here…” You’re directly in front of him now, practically pressing into his chest with your own. You don’t miss the way he swallows. His eyes aren’t on your face, but just below it. He doesn’t back away. “That they might have a ‘motive’?”

His eyes jump to yours, and you swear you see the ring of honey disappearing as melted dark chocolate takes over his irises. It’s tense, the staredown between the two of you. Like a game of chicken to see who would make the first move. But the moment you let your eyes wander down to his lips, he’s on you. 

Faster than you can comprehend, his hands are cupping your face and his lips crash into yours. You gasp at his quick movements, but immediately reciprocate once you get your bearings. Your hands are on the lapels of his vest, trying to pull him even closer to you as you lick his bottom lip. There’s a slight hesitation on his end, but he obliges, parting his lips and letting his tongue mingle with yours. 

Eventually you need to pull away for air. You expect him to do the same, but instead he moves to kiss down your neck. Not hard enough to leave marks, but with just enough pressure to make the heat start to spread in your body. Your fingers tangle in his curls, eliciting a low groan against your neck from him. Slowly, you let your free hand wander down his chest, surprised to be able to feel a chill through the fabric. It’s only when you reach the waistband of his jeans that his skin feels normal again. You can’t even begin to describe how badly you want to ask about what you’re feeling, but you don’t want to risk ruining this moment with him. 

Suddenly his hands are only your waist, pulling you back with him into the shadow of the rock. He’s looking around, and you’re not sure what he’s trying to find. Not liking his attention being off of you, you push against him, guiding him down to sit on the ground below you. His eyes are almost black now, glazed over watching you as you lower yourself in his lap.

“Hi,” you whisper, fluttering your lashes at him. 

“Hi,” he says back, a goofy grin spreading across his face. You lean in, letting your lips collide with him, picking up the pace to get back to the mood you were in before. In your new position you’re able to grind down on his lap, his hands flying to your hips as you do with a tight grip. As you roll your hips, you feel the hardness of his cock in his jeans through the swimsuit bottoms under your dress. There’s a moment in your mind where you think about how hard it is, almost like rubbing against a rock, but brush past it as his teeth scrape against your neck. A whine escapes you, feeling yourself getting wetter as his hands start to guide you with an iron grip across his length. He nips at your skin just below your ear, and your hands go flying to his hair, breathing out his name as his tongue rolls over the spot. You can feel your heart beating in your chest as you’re getting closer and closer to tipping over the edge.

Everything happens all at once. One second you’re about to reach your peak, the next you’re flying backwards and landing on your side, letting out a shriek of pain when you hit your bruised rib. You roll over onto your back and put your hand on your side to try and soothe the pain. When you finally look at Eddie, he looks like a wild animal. Eyes wide, fingers digging into the ground on either side of him. As his chest heaves, you think that this may be the first time you’ve seen him breathe.

“What the fuck was that,” you finally bark out after a moment, a strain in your voice from the pain. He doesn’t say anything, scrambling backwards further away from you under the rock. You wait a moment to see if he will respond, but his silence only makes you furious. Slowly you stand up, hand still on your side as you brush the dirt and leaves off you with the other. 

You give him one last chance to speak up, waiting for him to say anything to explain himself. But when he covers his mouth with his hand you know you’re wasting your time. “Fuck you, Eddie,” you say as you turn on your heels, walking back into the woods.

“W-wait,” you hear him choke out, but you ignore him letting yourself disappear into the treeline. Pulling out your phone, you look at your location on the maps to see that he’s taken you way out from where your car was parked. “What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself. You knew that you had followed him for a bit, but it would probably take you more than 30 minutes to get to your car. You sigh and begin your trek, keeping an eye on your location dot to make sure you’re going in the right direction. You don’t want to let it bother you, but you can’t help but feel like a pair of eyes are on you the whole way. “Eddie, you better not be following me,” you shout out into the woods, but you get no response. For good measure you grab your keys from your dress pocket and position them between your fingers.

By the time you make it back to civilization your feet are aching. And when you finally get to your car, you could almost cry as you slide into the driver’s seat. You plug your phone in and find something to listen to as you pull off of the street. Even with the music turned up and your speedometer reading over 60 miles an hour, you still can’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. The feeling follows you all the way home, only going away once you walk through the front door of the cabin, closing it behind you.

“You’re home early.” You turn away from the door to see your dad sitting on the couch, the light from the tv illuminating his frame where he had clearly fallen asleep.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, dad,” you say with a quiet voice.

“No, no I wasn’t sleeping. Just resting my eyes,” he says as he sits up. You just roll your eyes as you walk to your room. You grab your shower stuff and your night clothes, making your way to the bathroom to wash the total shit show of a night from your skin. As you begin to undress, you notice something on the skin of your neck. Getting a closer look, you see right below your ear a little blood trail that’s recently dried up just above a hickey.

It’s a bleak and uneventful day. You’re by yourself all morning now that Eden is back in school, left to unload a truck that came in at the start of the day on your own. You couldn’t complain, though, because it at least gave you something to do. Most of the foot traffic had been in the Starbucks, Barb and Heather busting ass to make coffee for all of Hawkins since the store in town was closed for renovations or something. 

The door chime rings for the millionth time, and you shout an annoyed greeting over the bookshelves as you put away a box of action figures on a shelf.

“Rough day,” a familiar voice calls. You turn, eyes landing on Steve as he makes his way towards you, hands tucked into his jeans pockets. If you weren’t annoyed before you were now, especially when the smell of his cologne grows stronger as he approaches you. Damn it, he smells good.

“Not until you showed up,” you place a Darth Vadar figure on the shelf before crossing your arms, “I’m surprised to see you here. Didn’t expect you to be the type who can read.”

“I’m not,” he stops a few feet in front of you. “I mean,” he closes his eyes as he realizes what you said, “I can read. I just don’t do it, like, often, I guess.”

You hum, nodding slowly. “Well, maybe you should. I’m sure we have a book on manners in the For Dummies section.” His head drops, shoulders slumping at your insult. You hear him mumble something to himself and you step closer to him. “Sorry, what was that?”

He looks up at you with a grin, “I said you’re lucky you’re so cute, or else that might have hurt my feelings.” You can’t help the heat you feel in your cheeks at his compliment, but you’re set on being mad at him so you opt to give him a dirty look in response. It doesn’t seem to phase him though as he takes a few steps towards you. Your back hits the shelf as he closes in on you, his body towering over you as his arm leans against the bookshelf. That fuzzy feeling you got when you talked to him the other night comes back as his smell fills your nostrils.

“Listen, I know I was a jerk the other day, but I want to make it up to you. We’re having another party, it’s at the same place, but it’s a Locha Nora exclusive party. Invite only. And we know if someone isn’t invited.” He looks between your eyes as he waits for your response. 

“Seems like your last party was exclusive in a way, don’t you think?” 

He nods, biting on his lower lip, “Yeah, you got me. Again, I’m really sorry about that. But, the thing with Eddie, it’s…something bigger than you think it is.” 

“Really?” You look at him dubiously, scoffing at his attempt to make things more complicated than they needed to be. “Because Eddie seemed to explain it to me pretty well. All of you stuck up Loch Nora residents have beef with his family because they don’t want to be part of your drama bullshit. Seems to make sense to me.”

“That’s what he told you,” Steve asks with a brow raised. “That’s hilarious. Sure, if that’s what you want to believe then go for it. But, you’re only getting one side of the story if you do.” He pushes off of the wall, standing straight in front of you. “Or, if you want to hear my side-- our side of the story, then my invitation still stands.” 

As much as you don’t want to admit it, you probably should talk to him about what happened. If the party is as low key as he’s making it sound, then you might be able to get more perspective on this whole confusing situation. The fact that you’re mad at Eddie right now totally isn’t having an influence on your decision.

“Will Jonathan be there,” you ask, giving in on your attitude a bit. The look he gives you makes you think he’s not super fond of Jonathan, but he nods reluctantly anyway. You uncross your arms, smiling up at him, “Are you asking me to go as a date, Harrington?”

“God, yes,” he says without hesitation.

You pull out your phone from your pocket, “Put your number in my phone so you can give me the details later. I think I’m about to have a customer.”

To say he was excited was an understatement. He made himself a contact in your phone, sending himself a text to make sure it went through. He handed it back with a smile, giving you a goodbye before leaving the store.

After you ring out your customer, Heather slams her hands on the counter, her expression wide with excitement. “Oh, em, gee, what was that earlier? Was he flirting with you? Did he give you his number? Are you going on a date? Details, I need details!”

You laugh at her desperation. You hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her about what happened that night, so you fill her in on what happened when you left. Leaving out the details with Eddie, telling her that he just walked you to your car and talked for a bit. 

“That explains what happened then,” she says with her head in her hands as she leans on your counter.

“What do you mean? What happened?” you asked.

“Oh you didn’t hear,” she straightens up, “It must have been right after you left, because I saw him talking with Tommy and Carol and the Byers guy and he seemed super heated. Then all the sudden he started like, thrashing around and acting like he was going to take off or something. It took Tommy, Carol, Byers and his little group to hold him down. They ended up carrying him off and the party kinda died down after that. It was a total bummer.”

You look at her blinking in disbelief. You start to second guess your decision to go to this party with Steve, having to tell yourself that you still want to hear his side of the story with everything. Jonathan being there made you feel a little better, giving you  an out in case you want to get away from Steve.

“Wow, you look-”

“Watch it, Harrington,” your dad shouts from the kitchen where he’s packing his lunch for his overnight shift. 

“Don't mind him,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Now what were you going to say?”

He laughs, running a hand through his hair before gesturing at you, “I was just going to say you look beautiful. I hope that’s not too explicit of a compliment.” There he goes again making you feel all fuzzy. You’re not even dressed up really, maybe a step above casual. But he makes you feel like you stepped out in an evening gown on the red carpet. Your dad grunts.

“Okay, well I’m going now,” you call back to him, “I’ll be back later tonight. Have a good night at work, pops.” He gives you a quick “be safe” as you step out, closing the door behind you. Steve walks you to his car, a shiny new BMW that looks out of place next to your beater truck and your dads cop car. He opens the door and helps you in, buckling your seatbelt for you.

“You don’t have to be so formal, Steve,” you say as he slides into the driver’s seat, “It’s not like you’re taking me to Enzo’s.”

“Do I have to take you to Enzo’s just to treat you like you deserve?” He does that thing where he has one hand on the wheel, the other on the back of your seat, and his neck craning to look out the back window as he backs out of your driveway. Why that’s hot, you have no idea.

“No, I guess not.” 

You notice that the more you drive, the more his car smells like his cologne as if he sprayed it inside. Not that you’re complaining, but it is a little overwhelming and it makes your body feel warm. “Hey, what cologne do you use?”

He looks at your confused, “I don’t wear cologne? Why do you ask?”

“You don’t?” You question. “But every time I’m around you, you smell like a fancy cologne.” 

“Really?” He asks with a curious chuckle. “What, uh, what do I smell like to you?”

“Um, like, woodsy? With a mint or something…” You feel stupid for even bringing it up. But he seems to be enjoying the way you describe his scent.

“And you like those smells, yeah?”

“Well, yeah, I do,” you look out the window to hide your face at your admittance. 

“Good…” 

When Steve pulls into the Loch Nora entrance, you’re in awe at some of the houses hidden away from the street the further you go in. Why anyone with this level of money would want to stay in small town Hawkins rather than a state, or even just another city without the perpetual overcast was beyond you.

After a few turns, getting deeper into the wealth of Hawkins, Steve eventually pulls into a roundabout driveway to what you assume to be his house. From the outside you could see that it was huge,so you could only imagine what the inside must look like. 

Your door opening ceases your gawking on the house, Steve offering you a hand as you slide out of the beemer. You think he’s going to lead you to his home, but as he takes you past the house and through his back yard you realize the house is quiet, dark with no signs of life inside. 

“We just have to go past this bit of brush. It’s a bit of a walk, so if it gets to be too much for you let me know, I don’t mind carrying you.” He sends a wink your way, and you roll your eyes at him. 

“I’m stronger than you think I am, Harrington,” you say as you flex your arm at him. He ducks his head, pulling you close so that he can talk lowly directly into your ear, “So am I.” Goosebumps rise on your neck where his breath fanned the skin. You want to say something snarky back, but the tight patterning of the trees took over your attention as you walked deeper into the woods. It was a miracle that you hadn’t ran into any scary wildlife with how much you’ve been in the woods lately. You kept your grip on Steve’s hand tight just in case.

After walking for maybe 15 minutes or so, Steve lifted a branch of the way for you as you passed into the opening. The large branch snapped off, and you just looked at him as he held the heavy wood in his hand. He looked at you with a funny smile. “Whoops,” he says as he shrugs, “Hey, guys, I got some more firewood.”

His free arm wraps around your shoulder, waving the branch with the other as he leads you over to the fire. It was much more tame compared to the last party here. Only a handful of people sat around the fire, some familiar, but a majority of them were strangers. You wave when you spot Jonathan, his little group from the last party sitting around him, you give him an enthusiastic wave. He ducks his head, eyes shifting from you to Steve before he gives you a sheepish wave back. 

Steve stops in front of a set of empty folding chairs, like the ones you see people sitting in at sport games and tells you to get comfortable. You plop down awkwardly in the chair, everyone either staring at you or talking quietly to each other with shifting glances. The heavy thump of the tree limb hitting the ground had you whipping your head around. Low laughter rises from the circle, and you hear a low “show off” in Jonathan’s group’s direction. You don’t really understand how no one is freaking out over Steve carrying a heavy ass branch that looks more like a log the more you stare at it. But the chatter quiets as he takes his seat next to you.

“Hey, do you want a beer,” Carol asks from her seat next to you with an unopened bottle in her hand. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you say as you take it. “Oh shit, anyone got a bottle opener?”

“Sorry, my bad,” she says, taking the bottle back from you. You’re fully expecting her to grab a bottle opener from the cooler, but instead she pops it off like a twist top. She hands it back to you, and you want nothing more than to ask how the hell she did that, but you’re interrupted by the sounds of laughter across the fire. 

“What the hell is so funny over there,” Steve yells. The laughter lets up only a bit, some of the boys barely holding it together.

“Patrick said he saw two of the leeches at the store today,” one of the boys says. 

“Don’t know why they bother going out in public,” another one says.

“What were they even there for?” Your head snaps to Jonathan, shocked to hear him speak up.

“It looked like balloons and shit. Like for a birthday or something,” the one you assume to be Patrick says.

“You can’t be serious,” one of the girls laughs, “What are they celebrating, their deaths?”

You look up at Steve, who seems to be just as confused as the rest of the group. You nudge your elbow against his arm, and he looks over to you with his full attention. “Sorry, uh, hey guys. No more leech talk,” he yells, nodding his head towards you. 

“Oh, no, don’t stop on account of me,” you say as you wave your hands, “I was just going to ask who you guys were talking about. Who are the leeches?” You had an idea of who they were talking about, recalling the confrontation at the last party where “leech” was thrown around when Eddie showed up, but you wanted the confirmation before you assume anything.

Everyone’s eyes are on Steve now. You feel embarrassed for even saying anything now. Steve takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “I guess you can get our side of the story now,” he says as he straightens up in his seat. “The leeches are the Brenner’s. I think you know by now that we, uh, don’t exactly get along with their kind.”

“Their kind,” you ask confused, “What do you mean by that?”

Steve breathes out through his nose, “It’s hard to explain because of…reasons. But, you have to trust me when I say that they’re no good.”

“They’re dangerous,” one of the boys in Jonathan’s group chimes in.

“Yeah,” another girl adds, “They can’t be trusted.”

Carol leans into you, “We can’t explain much…yet,” she gives Steve a knowing smile before looking back to you, “but trust me, when we can tell you, you’ll totally understand where we’re coming from. For now, it would just be better for you not to get involved with them.”

“Well, it’s really hard to believe you guys when you won’t tell me anything. Eddie was at least up front with everything when I asked him about it.”

The air went cold around the fire. There was an uneasiness amongst the group; seats shifting and glances being shared. “Relax, relax,” Steve says in an attempt to ease the party, “He didn’t tell her the truth. He told her, what,” he looks over to you, “that we just start rumors about them because they don’t want to be in our drama or something, right? That all the little housewives of Loch Nora have nothing better to do than hate a family of freaks over not wanting to join their book club.”

“I mean, my mom did say something about trying to get one of the girl ones to join her book club.”

“Shut up, Garreth,” Tommy says, throwing a bottle cap at the boy's shaggy curls.

“Hey,” Jonathan turns in his seat, fully facing Tommy with his full chest.

“What,” Tommy laughs at Jonathan’s bravery, “got something to say, reject?”

Jonathan’s fists flex, and you silently root for him to just deck Tommy in the face, but he moves back in his seat, arms crossing and sight set on the fire. It makes your blood boil to see Jonathan back down so easily. Standing from your seat, you walk your happy ass right in front of Tommy, who looks up at you with more fear than is probably warranted.

“Don’t call him a fucking reject,” you speak down to him. He flinches as you speak, but it pisses you off more that he keeps looking over to Steve. So you shift your body to block his view. “Don’t look at him. Steve isn’t going to save you.”

“Believe me, I know,” he says quietly. 

“Tommy,” Carol urges, eyes avoiding yours as she looks at him with wide eyes. He gives her a look back, breathing in before standing up in his seat, almost chest to chest with you. “D-don’t tell me what I can or can’t do, outsider-”

Your fist collides with his face, his head only moving slightly from the impact. And, unfortunately for you, it felt like you had just full force punched a brick wall. 

“What the FUCK,” you squeal, grabbing your hand and pulling it close, doubling over in pain. There’s commotion from behind you, a flurry of movement as everyone is getting up from their seats. When you look behind you, almost every single person is holding Steve back, his name being repeated over and over in hopes to get his attention. Tommy falls back over his chair, and Carol is moving to help him up as he backs away from you. It happens so quickly, but the pain in your hand is preventing you from really taking in the sight before you. 

And before you can really register anything else, you feel your body lifting off the ground as your body is thrown over the shoulder of one of Jonathan’s friends. Him and the rest of Jonathan’s friends start to take off with you, heading straight into the brush.

“Hey, man, let me see your hand,” Jonathan says as he trails behind the man carrying you. When you show him, the look on his face makes you feel like you’ll be making another trip to the ER. “Jeff, can we take your car to the hospital?” Jonathan asks his other friend, who nods his head. “Garreth-”

“Already on it,” Garreth says with his phone against his ear. “Hello? Hey, Mrs. Byers, you have the chief’s number, right? Yeah, um,” he looks back towards the direction you came from. Suddenly the sound of coyotes fighting can be heard in the distance. It makes you jump, and Grant’s pace picks up. “I think everyone will be okay?”

Jonathan grabs Garreth’s phone from him. “Mom, she punched Tommy in the face.” A pause. “Yeah. Yeah. We’re about to take her to the hospital. Yeah I think her hand is broken. Okay, I’ll tell her. Love you, too, bye.” He hands Garreth his phone back and looks to you, “Mom is calling your dad on his cell.”

“Fuck,” you sigh, “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“Why the hell did you think it would be a good idea to punch Tommy Hagan in the face?” Your dad paced back and forth in your hospital room. 

“He called Jonathan a reject,” you shrug, rubbing your hand over the cast on your dominant hand, tired from all the pain medicine that you’ve been given. 

He hesitates for a moment, but continues on anyway. “Even if he did say that, you still didn’t need to resort to breaking your hand on his jaw.”

“You make it sound like I knew his jaw was made of titanium or something. It felt like hitting solid rock, dad. And he barely flinched.”

“Well…maybe we need to check to see if you have a vitamin deficiency. Or maybe you need to start hitting the bag I left in your room.”

There was a pause between the two of you, smiles creeping on both of your faces before you both burst into laughter.

“I only hit him because he stepped up to me,” you defend, “I couldn’t let them think that the police chief’s daughter was going to let some bully talk down on her.”

“Ah, yes, because the two of you are still in high school and not adults in their early twenties,” he looks at you with a raised brow. “Next time, just call me. I think I could do a little more damage.”

The curtain to your room opens and Dr.Brenner walks in with his clipboard, eliciting a moment of deja vu. “Alrighty, I think we’ve got all your discharge paperwork here. Just make sure you look at this very important part right here.” He walks over you you, handing you the packet of papers, where on the bottom of the page in pen “I promise not to come back again in 6 more weeks with another injury” is written with a little “x” and a line drawn for you to sign on. You take the pen with a smile and sloppily sign with your non-dominant hand. “Good, now that includes punching any more dogs in the face,” Brenner says with a chuckle.

“Dogs?” You look at him confused. He looks at you like a deer in headlights. 

“Sorry, I meant boys. Slip of the tongue.”

“There won’t be any more of that,” your dad says as he pats your back, “Thanks again, Martin. I appreciate you always being available. Now, go home and get some rest, you’re looking a little pale in this lighting.”

Brenner looks at you, then nods. “Of course, Hop. Will do.”

When you finally get home you quickly get ready for bed, beat from all the events of the evening. When you crawl into the bed, you plug your phone in and see that Steve had texted you. You go to open it, but decide that you’d rather deal with him later. 

That night you have another dream.

thank you for reading!

[thecameronchronicles]

Just The Three Of Us

TW: femxfemxfem. Smut. Language. Overstimulation. 

SUMMARY: a threesome with Kiara and Sarah after you're caught getting a bit overheated. 

WORD COUNT: 1600

REQUESTED

hey hun, absolutely love you’re work.

I was just wondering if you would write another sarah and kie smut story.

I absolutely adore your last one and I need another.

🫶

Just The Three of Us

You have spent the last three months with only your fingers for company. Your recent breakup with some boneheaded Kook enough for him to threaten anyone near you to have to face his fist. And the one time you managed to get anywhere with a tourist, it was lackluster at best. But that was three months ago and you were desperate for an orgasm that wasn't a let down. Even your vibrator lost its appeal with how often you forgot to charge it, left waiting, and ultimately falling asleep. Nothing was working. 

Except today. 

Alone in the hottub at the Chateau, you leaned forward until your back to get a tan before the jet hit your clit just right. You were thankful to be alone for the plea it pulled from your lips. And this was what brought you riding against its pulsation with slow vigor. Of all the times you gave JJ shit about buying the Cat's ass, right now you would gladly blow him for it. That thought was just another reason your orgasm was rushing hard against you. 

Climbing. 

Cresting. 

Pulsating. 

Oh God... It was gonna be good. But you still needed more. Your fingers weren't anywhere near enough but it brought you to that edge so you could convulse to a release. Thankful enough to be too blissed to notice the fact you had an audience. 

Sarah was the first one you noticed as she pushed her sunglasses through her flaxen hair.  The sound of a crunching bag flashing your eyes to Kiara as she rolled it closed and crossed her arms. 

"Well that's one way..." She teased as you flushed, swallowed hard, and moved back from the jet. Mentally promising to make a habit of riding it whenever you could get time alone. 

"You do that a lot?" Kiara asked while moving closer as Sarah followed closely behind, both girls leaning on either side of you. Kiara's fingers dipped into the water, so close to your breasts that were begging for her touch. 

Wait. No. 

She was one of your best friends. 

But so loving. And spirited. And beautiful. Molasses skin that always smelled so damn good it made you wet again just to think about. 

"Was it good?" Sarah's question made you blush as your eyes moved to her lips. Full and tempting. But not more than her breasts spilling effortlessly from her bikini top you'd gladly suffocate in. 

You chalked it up to being horny. They were your best friends. They never even-

"Kie-" You gasped at the fingers circling your nipples over your suit. 

"That was so hot I'm soaked through my panties..." Sarah nodded, doing the same to your other breast but with more effort. Where Kie pulled softly at your nipples, Sarah took your entire breast. Kneading it as you moaned. 

"I'm actually jealous..." Sarah added. "You sounded better coming from that jet..." Her hand descended down between your legs. "Bet I can make you louder..." Before you could fight it, not that you would, she sunk a finger into you. Kiara now favoring both of your breasts. 

"What about...the guys..." You moaned to the second finger and soft waves made by her soft jerking motions that increased her speed. 

"They don't need to know how good we can make each other feel...it's all experimental..."

"Sarah?" Kie chuckled. 

"She's gonna come...oh my God...she feels so tight, Kie...she's riding my fingers and I fucking love it..." Your eyes rolled before Kiara was suddenly in the water. 

"Not before I get to touch her..." Taking turns, Sarah pulled away and Kiara's fingers replaced. The absence edging you as they took turns with their fingers and you began to plead by only the use of their names. Kiara set you across her in a straddle.

"Aw, you wanna come again? So fast?" Kie teased as you nodded before Sarah unlatched your bikini top. 

"I've always wanted to play with these..."

"She never shuts up about it..." Your eyes widened. 

"You guys have..."

"Oh yeah...when John B can't get me off...Kiara makes me squirt..."

"And between shifts when I'm tense, Sarah helps me in the backroom..."

"Oh my God!"

"She loves it!" Sarah narrated as you straddled Kie while rolling your hips. 

"We almost got caught last week when JJ came into the chateau...was actually your fault..." You gasped to Kiara nibbling at your naked breast as Sarah reached around and proceeded to finger fuck you in perfect but slow precision. 

"You came here wearing that little bikini we wanted to tear off of you. I saw you watching me with John B but I didn't know if you wanted this..."

"She's throbbing..."

"Good...she's gonna come so pretty for us...isn't she?" You nodded. 

"Loud too. She's a screamer and I love it..." Kiara spoke between breasts before you were pulled back against Sarah. 

"She's better with her mouth..." Before you could deny it, Sarah spread your legs and Kiara was under the water working your clit. The waves you made came drastically over the sides of the hot tub as nobody cared. 

"Wait until she does both-" you gasped as Sarah massages your thighs and Kiara came up for a breath before kissing your breast and coming back down this time with two fingers pistoning your inner walls and against your g-spot.

"Oh she found it...good girl...let her make you come...it's so fucking beautiful..."

"Oh God...Sarah..."

"I'm expecting it louder...it's better isn't it?"

"Fuck yeah..." You moaned moving against Sarah as she kissed your shoulder and widened you more, holding you up even wider for Kiara. 

"Let her tongue feel how wet you are...ooh...yes...like that..."

"I'm gonna come...I'm gonna fucking come..."

"Not without telling us..." She tapped for Kiara. 

"She wants to come quietly, Kie...after you worked so hard doing so well..." They kissed and fondled each other long enough to make your hand drift between your thighs. 

"Maybe we should torture her a bit? Maybe come?"

"I'm gonna have to soon or that jet has my name on it..." Sarah cocked a brow before pulling Kiara's shorts down. 

"Use it...I'll use the other one..." Both girls were nude from the waist down and gripping the sides of the tub as the water sloshed as they rode against the jets. 

"Fuck!" Kie cries first. 

"Touch me...please..." Sarah lost her dominance and became needy. The begging making you clench and finger yourself wildly over your clit. 

"I like when you beg..." You explained as Kiara wanted you, nodding. 

"It is pretty, isn't it?" She moaned, knuckles white as she pumped two fingers into herself. 

"Please play with my nipples..." She turned and nearly mauled you as the jet at your back came against your ass. The expression made Sarah beam. 

"You like it here?" Your ass was parted as the jet shot at your delicate hole. 

"Kie!"

"I'm coming!" Sarah hovered over your lips. 

"Look at Kie..." She jolted and bent over the tub while Sarah widened your ass. As Kie came down, you pressed a soft kiss to Sarah's lips. Her tongue quick to claim your mouth before Kiaras fingers came between your legs. 

"I'm making her come like this ...it's so fucking hot..." Sarah explained when the kiss broke. Kiara took over your lips while Sarah rocked you against the jet and harder against Kiara’s fingers. 

"Fuck..." You whimpered as both girls nodded. Aware Sarah hasn't come, you cupped her naked pussy and set two fingers as she had done to you. 

"Yes! Like that! I'm already close...just bend a little-FUCK!" She shattered for you as Kiara kisses her neck enough to make her grin. 

"Yes!" She exclaimed with contentment. 

"Forget it...you're gonna fucking squirt..." 

"But I..." Before you could deny it, you were positioned between both girls. Each of your bare asses in a seat with your backs pointed to the Chateau as Kie held down one of your legs and Sarah held the other. 

"Louder than with the jet or I'm gonna take it as an insult, okay?" She grinned as her fingers worked hard and fast. 

"Slow down, I'm enjoying her expressions..." Kiara traced your face and kissed your lips, jaw, and neck, before the girls took turns with that role. 

Kiara was softer with her thrusting fingers but deeper as Sarah was quick but rough. Sarah kissed leisurely with a teasing tongue and Kiara bit your lip to make you moan. Both girls gave equal affection to your breasts. But it would be the vicious trade of fast fingers fucking you that had you on that edge. 

"Yes..."

"It's so good! I've never-"

"I figured...but it's okay...I'll make you for me."

"And me." Kie added. 

Kisses. Thrusts. Dirty promises. Everything collected to that crest. 

"Fuuuuuck..." You warned. 

"Better hurry. The guys are back..." The Twinkie sounding up the gravel made you tighten. 

"You're coming whether they see or not..."

"Please come for us...I don't want them knowing our little secret..." Kiara kisses you quickly as it was her soft lips and Sarah's rough fingers that made you finally expire. Jolt after jolt of your hips as her fingers rode you through it. The convulsions of her inner walls set off as sparks while you recovered. 

"This is just for the three of us..." Sarah smirked while sucking you off her fingers. And you nodded, aware the promise you made earlier to the jet was also true to your two best friends. 

This would be happening whenever you had the chance.

TAGLIST: @rafesmoon @maybankslover @puzziepoppin @gillybear17 @onclouds999@penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf

MASTERLIST 

SARAH CAMERON MASTERLIST

KIARA CARRERA MASTERLIST

[ailithnight]

*Whoops. Forgot to title and link previous chapters. Fight me, I just woke up.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

"Tim. Tim you have to get me copies of this footage." Tim is not surprised by the request. In fact, the 'Sure' is already on his tongue when he pauses, a thought creeping into his head, seeded by the notification Tim really hopes Jason isn't paying attention to in the bottom corner of the computer.

"One condition."

"Fuck you, I knew you'd want something. What? You want my cookies? Coffee? For Red Hood to go on camera singing praises for Red Robin? I'll fuckin do it. Just send me the god damn clips."

"Nope, nope, and tempting, but no."

"Name your price, Replacement. I'll pay it."

"Swear you aren't going to go rush in and extract the kid until we're done investigating him."

"What!? Fuck that! I told you was pulling him out next chance I get!" Tim lets himself groan in annoyance.

"Look, anyone that could do that-" Tim gestures to the part of the screen where they'd pulled up The Joker's medical reports following the incidents, showing pictures and descriptions of just how thoroughly Daniel had beat his ass 3 weeks in a row, "without getting so much as a scratch or fucking bruise in return, has got something going on. There may well be a reason they sent him to Arkham!"

Jason's eyes narrow at Tim as he all but growls, "No reason is good enough to put-"

"A fifteen year old in Arkham. I fucking know that, Hood. But we still need to know exactly who we're dealing with when we get him out. What his deal is. If his dangerous. What the hell was so wrong with him that someone thought it was a good idea to stick him in there to begin with."

"He could get hurt while we're sitting on our asses trying to satisfy fuckin Bat paranoia!"

"He took down the Joker! Clearly he can take care of himself."

"Then who has been hurting him!?"

"Maybe him fucking self!" Tim knew he was pushing it. The green growing stronger in Jason's eyes was proof. But he needed to buy them some time before Jason made thing exponentially harder by storming the castle. Still, now he needed to calm Jason down before he went into a full rage. So Tim held up his hands placatingly.

"A few days, Jay. Just give us a few more days. I'm already almost through the Arkham reports, and there are only a handful from Chicago and Oracle is probably going to announce any minute now that she got through the communications blackout around his home town. We just need a bit more time to sort out intel so that we actually know how to help him once we get him out."

Finally, after a tense 34 seconds, green fades back into blue and Jason let's out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. But I get to tell the Bat about Daniel's discipline slips. Wanna see his fuckin face when I do."

"Deal." Tim hurriedly puts a comm in as Jason watches with narrowed eyes.

Batman.

Red Robin. Ready to fill me in?

Not yet, you're about to be busy. I isolated a pattern earlier. Exactly 15 minutes before the locks malfunction, there's been a strange power surge. Always written off. But the surge doesn't seem to be coming from the grid. And like I said, exactly 15 minutes later is when the locks malfunction.

Jason huffs as he catches on. Apparently he hadn't thought to question why Tim was so desperate to buy time before.

Robin responds, since he's on stakeout with Bruce. Mostly because Bruce won't let him watch the asylum alone. Much as the kid hates it, the rest of the family agrees. It's only a matter of time before someone in max security manages to take advantage of theses malfunctions. So far Croc is the only one who had, though thankfully he's not one to start shit on his own. But with Joker, Scarecrow, and TwoFace all inside; any one of them, or god forbid all three, could make for a real bad situation.

Tt. So you can tell before a malfunction happens.

Think so. Last power surge was 8 minutes ago.

And you are only telling us now, why Drake?

Codenames.

Cause he spent those 8 convincing me not to go get our kid out yet.

6 minutes. See if you can stop things before they start.

I'm not far out. Want me to join you?

Tt. I doubt we'll need your assistance, Signal. We shall be done before you get here.

No wait. Signal, head in. See if you can get a read on 26B.

You think he might be meta?

Hood?

Jason glares at Tim betrayed.

"I wanted to see his fuckin face."

Tim just waves him off.

"They need to know. You tell them or I do."

Boys

Jason scowls, but relents.

He put the Joker in the infirmary on his 1st, 7th, and 15th days there. All 3 times took no damage himself. Feral child had to be pulled off and still didn't stop struggling till the clown was out of sight.

All 3 assaults followed by panic attacks, though whether about the Joker himself or what Daniel had done to him, we don't know yet.

The comms were silent for a moment.

A 15 year old...

Did what you've never had the balls to old man.

...I've fought the Joker.

Daniel hits first.

Hnn

I will admit, it is impressive that he can take the Joker down alone. Perhaps he will make for a worthy brother after all.

4 minutes.

We're moving in. Thank you Red Robin, Hood.

The fuck are you thanking me for?

For helping. And giving us time to work this out.

ETA 7 minutes out. Be with you shortly.

.

The advanced warning proved invaluable for Batman and Robin. After alerting the chief of security of their supposed pattern, he had guards already in motion when the doors swung open. Batman took a perch to watch for max security escapees while Robin assisted the guards in keeping inmates corralled. Many didn't even bother to leave their designated areas, having already seen the Bats in the building.

No sign of any max security inmates. Normally, Batman would find this concerning. And while he did file it away to ponder later why no one from max security ever seemed to make it out of that wing, for today he counted the blessing that he would not have to try to keep Robin safe while dealing with someone like the Joker.

Batman tracked motion through the crowds, watching as a black mop of hair moved, seemingly otherwise unnoticed, through the sea of people. He thought to move in to direct the person back towards where people were being herded to, but the small figure merely walked towards the B wing and entered one of the far cells. That gave Bruce a sneaking suspicion of which patient that was. He moved to get a closer look as Signal swooped in.

"Where is he?"

"I believe he just went into his cell. This way." Batman led Signal to the cell he'd seen that tiny person enter. It was indeed 26B and there was indeed a small, too small, frail looking boy lying on the bed there. A red blotch had appeared under his left eye even though Bruce was certain there had been no injury there as the boy had crossed the hall.

Signal froze beside him, breath stuttering. The boy briefly glanced at them through the corner of his eye, mouth twitching into a brief frown. Then his eyes turned back to the ceiling and his face smoothed out. Bruce couldn't help but reach out.

"Hello." The boy said nothing. Signal opened and closed his mouth, seeming to try to say something, but unable to get words out. Batman wondered what he must be seeing. "You seem hurt. Do you need help?" Eyes flickered back to him and away just as quickly.

"Nothing you can help with Mr. Batman." And oh, how Bruce hated the kid's voice. So quiet and so so hollow. Bruce's mind flashed to his children, imagining any them speaking with such emptiness. His heart clenched, wondering what could have happened to this boy to have snuffed the life out of him so young.

Duke found his voice again, just as the doors buzzed and swung shut again.

"What are you?" Bruce frowned, looking at his latest. Who was looking, as Bruce tracked his gaze, not at Daniel but at the space just above him. Daniel himself seemed to take interest all of a sudden, breaking away his upward gaze to roll his head and look at them. Confusion plain on his face, the first hint of life shining dimly in his eyes.

"Signal? Signal, what do you see?" Batman asked. Robin materialized beside them. The daytime hero stepped forward, then back, light sparking and fizzling around his fingertips.

"There's something in there with him."

Daniel looked back up, where Signal still had his gazed trained on something Batman couldn't see. Even Robin seemed confused, though he no doubt trusted Signal's meta sight.

"Don't worry," Daniel murmured, "S'just a ghost. She can't hurt you."

This 'ghost' seemed unhappy either with the teen's words or this turn of events. Daniel's head snapped back to the side again, causing Batman and Signal to wince while Robin watched stoically. 4 red scratches appeared on Daniel's right cheek, as though he had been backhanded by someone with clawlike nails. A light chill brushed through him and Signal tensed, then relaxed, his gaze finally turning from the emptiness above Daniel to the boy himself. Batman took that as a sign that the... entity, was gone.

Daniel did not react to the obvious abuse from an invisible assailant. He mechanically turned his head back, once more dead and glazed eyes returning to the cracks in the ceiling of his cell. "You should go now. The guards will come around soon to make sure I'm still here."

Bruce wanted so badly to say 'Don't worry, we'll get you out of here.' But Batman was more restrained than that. He would get the child out. But he would have a plan first. For now, Bruce placed a hand each on the shoulders of Duke and Damien, guiding them away. Only when they were back outside did Bruce let them go. Only when they were perched on a rooftop half a block away did Batman pause.

"Robin, report."

"No escaped inmates and no sign of any from maximum security."

"Good. Signal, any information on what you saw in there." Duke rubbed at his eyes.

"A ghost, I guess? I don't know. It was weird. She didn't really have an aura. It was more like, an absence of aura. Like she was a black hole, drawing all the light in."

Even behind the domino, Bruce could tell Damien rolled his eyes.

"And what of the patient, Thomas? Was he not the one you were sent to look at?" Batman bit back the reprimand for codenames, more interested in Signal's response. Signal seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.

"He definitely had a pretty distinct aura. It... felt powerful. But it looked weak. Dim. When the ghost... struck him, it flared up a bit, but died back down almost instantly. I... I get the feeling he was holding it back. Almost like he was afraid of it. Of himself."

"Hnn. Good job Signal. Robin. You two are welcome to head back to the cave. I'll take the rest of this Arkham shift."

At that moment, the comms crackled to life.

Actually B, you may want to come in, also. Arkham should be fine. And I found why they sent the kid there.

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER ONE - TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

  I usually don’t become swoon by seeing attractive women. Working security at a luxury club, I come across them almost every day. At one point in my life, I even slept with them for money because I needed survival after the Zen’in Family disowned me about twenty years ago.

But when I stare in the direction of the bar, I’m convinced I’m looking at one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen in my life. 

 She’s fucking gorgeous. The deepest and richest shade of brown. Thick curls falling to her shoulders. Full thighs that are being constricted by the material of her denim mini skirt. 

 God, I don’t fucking care if I sound like a pervert, but every time I saw her cross and uncross her legs, I hoped to see a sneak of her panties. 

 I don’t care to be in a relationship. 

 I just had to fuck her. Hard and slow until she’s screaming my name. 

 Insta lust isn’t really my thing. However, my cock is feeling extremely uncomfortable in my pants right now. 

 “Fushiguro!” Shiu Kong’s voice blares through my ears. 

  Shit, I forgot I wasn’t alone. 

 He continues, “You heard anything I said or you’re too busy drooling over that pretty girl at the bar?” He points with his chin, taking a drag of his third cigarette tonight. 

 That fucker needs to give it a break. 

 “I’m not fucking drooling, Kong,” I answered. “And what did you say?”

  He chuckles. “I asked, are you going to consider that contract I gave you?”

 “No. You know I don’t do that kind of shit anymore. I have a kid.”

 “And how’s your relationship with Megumi going?”

 I hate using the term friend , but Shiu Kong would be the closest thing that I would have of that sort. We met back in Tokyo after I left the Zen’in Family.

 Our friendship consists of business, banter, and talking shit to one another. He’s not a bad guy. Pretty decent and not as annoying as other people. And I guess you can say I kind of owe him since he helped watch Megumi after his mother passed. 

 He’s been in the States for a few days now to visit, trying to convince me to take this damn contract. But he knows I left that part of me back in Japan.

 “It’s going,” I finally responded. “He’s still adjusting to being here.”

 “English working well for him? You’re helping him I assume.” 

 I give him an annoyed look. “Trying to make sure I’m being a dad?”

 “Someone has to,” he says, boringly, while putting out his cigarette to like another one. “Maybe you should get a girlfriend. Make her a housewife. Being a single parent to a fifteen-year-old boy isn’t the easiest.”

 I let out a mixture of a scoff and chuckle. “And how would you fucking know?”

 “Considering that I helped take care of your boy, I would know.”

 “Hm,” I say. 

 “And I’m frankly tired of having to babysit your old ass, too. You’re forty-two, Fushiguro. I can’t be your lover forever.” 

 And here goes the shit talking. 

 “Funny. I don’t remember you having anyone.”

 He smirks. “I have my options.”

 “Yeah, whatever.”

 My attention is back to the woman at the bar, and this time she’s not alone. Some guy occupied the seat next to her, and by the looks of it, she’s annoyed. I’m almost positive that he’s hitting on her. I mean, who wouldn’t? Her beauty steals the attention of the bar. Still, even I know when to read the fucking room. 

 If a woman isn’t interested, then she isn’t interested. You can tell by their body language and how they engage with you. 

 Her body is telling him to fuck off, and she’s doesn’t look like she’s engaging either. And despite that, the fucker can’t keep his hands to himself. 

 You would think the other men seeing what’s happening would be decent enough to fucking defend her but they’re just sitting around with stupid grins on their faces. 

 Kong was talking some type of shit before I got up from the table and walked toward the bar. 

 I had two reasons to go over there. 

 One, to get that motherfucker away from her, and two, my selfish intent to see how pretty she is up close. 

 The closer I got to the bar, their conversation became more coherent. 

 “Come on, sweetheart. Why are you playing hard to get?”

 “You don’t know how to fucking take no for an answer?” 

  Her voice… 

 Get it together, Fushiguro. 

 “I do, but this feels like a game of cat and mouse.” He’s definitely drunk. 

 “If-”

 “She’s not interested,” I interrupted. 

 The moment I uttered those words, it’s like on cue, her and I locked eyes. Her hues are the color of coffee with a touch of milk. I drink them in. The almond shape. The small creases underneath. The length of her lashes. I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at them. 

 Then, her face. It has this type of softness yet definition. Those full lips that are brown and pink, even prettier up close. 

 No. She’s more than pretty. 

 She’s beautiful. Sexy. Tempting. 

 It’s like I almost forgot what I came here for before this shithead opened his mouth again. 

 “And who the fuck are you?” He’s trying to remain calm. Confident, even. But I’ve been told how intimidating my presence can be for people. It’s clearly affecting him. 

 “The guy that’s fucking telling you she’s not interested and to leave her the fuck alone,” I bit out. “You look desperate.”

 He gets off the stool to buck up to me. 

 Funny. 

 “What happens if I don’t?”

 “I don’t think you want to find out.” Is all I say to him. 

 This guy is about three inches, maybe four inches shorter than me. He’s intoxicated. He is barely confident in the words he’s saying to me. But somehow he thinks he wants to find out if he doesn’t listen to my warning. 

 The other pieces of shit that didn’t say anything listen into our heated conversation. I even feel her eyes still on me. Why am I being overprotective over a woman I don’t know? Like she’s mine? Not sure, but I am. 

 Though, it looks like he made the right decision by walking away, his friends going right along with him. 

 “You okay?” I ask her, after the drunken fuck leaves. 

 “I am. Thank you for defending me.”

 Velvety. Smooth. Soft. Raspy. Mature. All the words that come to mind when I hear her voice. I feel the fucking hair on the back of my neck standing up. I just know she would sound so sweet while taking me. 

  Fushiguro .

 I know. I’m a pervert. Fucking shoot me for being attracted to her. 

 I nod and say nothing else to her, beginning to walk away but she stops me. 

 “What’s your name?” she asks, smiling. 

 “Toji Fushiguro.”

 “Do you usually give out your full name like that, Toji Fushiguro?” 

 Charming, I think. I give her a small smile. 

 “And yours?”

 “Y/N. Just Y/N, for now.”

 I quip a brow. “You say for now, are you suggesting there will be a later?”

 “Hm, it depends. Do you want to sit down and keep me company? Your scary boyfriend demeanor can probably keep away the rest of the creeps.”

 “Scary? Do I scare you?”

 She laughs, and it’s like music to my ears. “No, Toji. You don’t scare me.”

 My name from her lips sounds like pure sin. It drips like honey. I want to taste how it sounds when she’s moaning it. 

 “I wouldn’t mind, but I have a friend-” I look back to the table where Kong and I were at to see that he left. 

 And I’m pretty sure he didn’t cover the fucking bill. 

She shrugs. “I don’t mind your friend joining. As long as he’s not weird, which I’m assuming he’s not since you associate yourself with him. The more, the merrier.” 

 “Looks like he left.”

 “Then it looks like you’re going to keep me company.”

 Now, she’s not asking me. She’s telling me. 

  Shit . 

 I have no reason to protest, so I fill the seat next to her. The bartender comes to me to take my order, but I tell him just a refill on ginger ale and remind him I have a tab open. 

 “You don’t drink?” 

 “Nah, not really. I don’t like the taste of alcohol. It’s not the type of burn that I like,” I tell her. 

 “What kind of burn do you like, Toji Fushiguro?” Is she…

 “You flirting with me, Y/N?”

 She smiles. “Just making conversation. That’s all.”

 “Hm. Well, to answer your question, the workout burn feels good. Help clears my mind.”

 “You have a lot going on in your mind?”

 “I’m a forty-two and a single dad. My mind feels like a Formula One track.”

 She giggles. “I can only imagine. How old is your…”

 “Son, and he’s fifteen. 

 “I don’t have kids, but I teach at a high school. Teenagers are definitely not a walk in the park.”

 “A classroom full of kids sounds like hell.”

 This time her laugh is louder and clearer than before. 

 “I swear it’s not that bad. I used to teach elementary school kids. They are a bit more handful since they’re younger. I was their temporary mom for the day,” she explains. “Teaching isn’t the easiest, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

 “I see you’re very passionate about it.”

 “I am.” Y/N takes a swig of her martini, licking the sugar off her lips that coats them. And like the creep she doesn’t think I am, I stare at that pretty mouth of hers. 

 A visual of Y/N on her knees with her full lips wrapped around my cock plays in my mind. It’s like she knows what I’m thinking because when she looks at me after putting down her drink, she shies away but quickly gathers herself. 

 “So, uhm, what do you do?”  

 “I work at a luxury club. VIP security,” I answer. 

 “Very fitting.”

 “How so?”

 “You ask me if you scare me. I said no, but you give off protective vibes. It’s only right to put a good trait to use to make money, no?”

 I hum, taking a sip of my ginger ale. “I guess you’re right.”

 Over the course of hours, Y/N and I carry conversation. Talking to her feels… nice. Easy, almost. Like the more we talk, the more familiar she becomes. I’m not into that artificial crap, but I feel like I’ve spoken to her before. 

 Like I knew her in another lifetime. 

 Usually, I talk about myself when I’m talking to people, especially women. However, with Y/N? I listen to her. The words she says. Her opinions about insightful topics. She’s breathtaking. Smart. Addicting. 

 My cock isn’t aching only from her looks, but also from the high I feel from her mind. 

 I sound like a sap. I know I do. It’s just… I haven’t felt this way since my wife died seven years ago.

  Maybe you could try again.  

 Absolutely not. My heart and any kind of decency I had left was buried in the grave next to my wife. 

 There’s nothing wrong with a good conversation before an attempted fuck, so that’s all I’m doing. 

 That’s what I’m trying to convince myself, at least. 

 “So, Toji, you from around here?” 

 “Nah. Born in Japan. I’ve only been in the States for three years with my kid.”

 “What about your son’s mother? She didn’t move with you?” She questions. 

 I toy with the black band that I still keep on my finger. “No. She moved somewhere I can’t go, unfortunately.”

 “Where is—Oh…” Before asking her question, she realized what I meant. “I’m so sorry, Toji. I shouldn’t have invaded like that.”

 “Nah, it’s okay. It… was a while ago.”

 “Is that why you said your mind feels like a Formula One track?”

 I manage to let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yeah. Her death affected me and my son badly, but we’re handling it differently.”

 “Not everyone's grieving process is the same,” she reassures. 

 “Right, but does it normally cause your kid to hate you?”

 Why am I saying this? Why am I showing my vulnerability to a woman I just met two hours ago? In the middle of a fucking bar for Christ’s sake. I can’t even blame it on the alcohol because I don’t drink. 

 All I wanted to do was fuck Y/N until she’s screaming my name, but that sole intention went completely out the door the more we talked. 

 My slight insecurity from my vulnerability isn’t even because of Y/N. She doesn’t look bothered or taken off guard from my confession. She just waits for me to talk… like she wants to listen to me. 

 She turns her body around to face me and while doing so, our knees brush. I don’t know if she felt that slight electricity when making contact, but I did. Hopefully she just has a good way of masking her reactions. 

 “Why do you think your son hates you?” 

 I shrug. “We’re just not as close as we used to be. It feels like his mom was the glue that kept us together. Then, when she died, so did my bond with Megumi.”

 A soft smile of pain shows on her face. “Megumi… that means blessings . She picked it?” 

 “I did, because that’s what he feels like.”

 “Hm, I see,” she says, simply. “I’m not a therapist, but I wouldn’t automatically assume Megumi hates you. Like I said, grief is different for everyone. I’m pretty sure it can cause distance between loved ones, too. I would say he’s still adjusting. Just like you are.”

 “Sure you’re not a therapist?”

 She pats my thighs without realizing what that does to me. “Nope, just a high school reading teacher.”

 “Sorry guys. We’re about to close. Mind paying your tab?” The bartender says to us. 

 Were we talking for that long? Guess that happens when conversation is good.

 “Ah okay.” Y/N reaches for purse to pull out her wallet, but mine is already out, giving enough cash to cover both of our bills with a tip. “You didn’t have to do that, Toji.”

 “Maybe I wanted to?”

 She doesn’t bother to argue with me. “Well— thank you.”

 “Let me walk you to your car?”

 “Oh, I don’t drive when I go out. Never know how much you’re going to drink.”

 “Okay, call your ride share and I’ll wait with you.”

 Y/N nods and starts walking towards the exit. I can’t help but take a look at her ass. So fat and naturally shaped. Her legs look so smooth. Thick. I want them to wrap around my waist while I pound into her. 

 And don’t fucking get me started on the top she’s wearing that shows a peak of her belly. I can tell she’s not wearing a bra.

Fuck, Y/N. 

 Why is looking at her making me sexually frustrated?

 Typically, I’m direct about my intentions. If the woman wants to fuck, cool. If not, also cool. But for some reason I can’t open my mouth to ask. My dick presses against my pants and I’m glad I wore black tonight rather than my normal grey sweats. 

 “Looks like my ride is about five minutes away,” she says. “I had a really good time talking to you, Toji. Your company wasn’t bad.”

 “Better than that motherfucker from before?” I ask.

 She rolls her eyes at the thought of him. “Way better. Gosh, that guy was so fucking annoying. He does that every time I come here. I’m hoping since you showed up, he won’t be an issue anymore.”

 “He won’t.”

  She arches her brow. “Why so sure?”

 “I think I made my scary boyfriend message clear,” I joke. 

 “Ha, ha, real funny.” Silence is now between us. We look at each other, and on her face is a soft smile while mine is probably the same. 

 Unlike before, Y/N doesn’t shy away. Instead, she speaks. 

 “Can I be honest?” 

 “Sure.”

 “I want to kiss you, but I’m not sure if it would be appropriate,” she admits. 

 “And why wouldn’t it be?”

 “Well, you vented to me about your late wife, which is perfectly fine. I appreciate you being that comfortable with me. I just don’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability.”

 I chuckle. “You can’t take advantage of me.”

 She places her hands on her hips, shifting her weight onto one leg. “Is that your way of consenting to a kiss?” 

 “Can I be honest, too?” She nods. “I want to do more than just kiss you, but I would be no different from that shithead.”

 “No, you would. The difference is you’re not a creep and I’m consenting to your honesty, which I’m attracted to.” Y/N closes the space between us. Even with heels, she still looks up to me because of my height. “Consent is sexy.”

 “I agree,” I affirmed, cuffing around her chin to tilt higher. The whiff of her sweet alcoholic breath fills my senses, and that alone can make me drunk. 

 Her breath hitches. “Do you?” 

 “I do.”

 “Kiss me, Toji.”

 And I do. I kiss her hard. Aggressively. Passionately that has my blood rushing straight to my groin. Y/N’s lips are so fucking soft, sweet, succulent, every descriptor you can think of while kissing someone as pretty as her. 

 I force her mouth with my own, licking around to explore and get a better taste of her. She whimpers and I utter fuck from how sexy she sounds. That alone can tell me she’s probably needy, proving my point that she would take my cock in her pussy like I’m all she knows. 

 Like I give a fuck about us being in the middle of the street, making out like we’re horny college kids. I want to feel more of her, this fucking body of hers that I know I will have wet dreams about and fist my cock to in the shower when I wake up the next morning.

 “Y/N, can I–” 

 “Stop talking,” she whispers. It’s like Y/N knew what I was going to ask because she cut me off by grabbing my hands to place on her ass so I could squeeze.

 Fuck, it’s so soft and big. It feels jelly and perfect in my hands. While I busy myself with my own, her hands slip through my locks to deepen our kiss. Her full lips overpower mine, sucking and biting on my bottom lip.

 It’s not a want, but I need to fuck her.

 Now. 

 “Let me fu-” And before I was able to ask, the honking of her rideshare interrupted our heated kiss, reminding us we’re not alone.

 We break apart and ogle at each other. Those pretty fucking eyes roars with pure lust and hunger. Her lips are swollen, gloss completely gone from my excessive sucking. 

 My hand is still at her ass while the other feathers along her collarbone and the mountain of her breasts, causing her breaths to shallow. I pull her closer to me so she can feel what she did to me.

 Again, the driver honks the car and I’m two seconds away from breaking his window if he doesn’t fucking wait. 

 “I can come over?” I ask.

 “I want you to, but I can’t. Not tonight,” she declines. “School night. I’m already out later than I planned. Now it’s going to be harder for me to go to sleep after-”

 “This.” I wrap my hand around her throat to give her a quick sensual kiss.

 “Yes,” she breathes, squeezing my arms. “After that.” 

 Y/N hesitantly breaks away from me to head into the backseat of the car. I open the door for her, but before she goes in, I grab her arm to pull back into my chest so I can kiss her–again. 

 She’s just so fucking addicting

 “Toji, I have to go,” she tells me with a smile on her face. 

 “Alright, alright.” I let her go so she can get in the car and roll down the window. “You say not tonight. So when? “Hm, I’ll let you know,” she teases. The driver got sick of our shit, so he slowly started driving away but kept close enough for me to hear Y/N. “Good night, Toji Fushiguro.”

 “Night, Y/N.” And she’s gone, leaving me in front of the bar with a hard dick and pornographic thoughts. 

 Y/N is so fucking sexy, and she’s a good woman. Has a career that she loves. A good listener and honest without coming off as judgemental. Not like it would hurt me if she did, but I didn’t realize how calming it felt to talk to a stranger about my lack of confidence with being a single dad. She’s almost like a ray of… sunshine. 

 Too perfect for me.

 We didn’t even exchange numbers, so the likelihood of me fucking her is slim to none. 

 Oh well. Maybe I was only meant to meet her to hear her reassurance and taste her lips… feel her ass… 

 Shit, my dick is harder than before.

 Jacking off isn’t going to work. Not tonight . 

 I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts to see who can help alleviate my pleasure. 

 Maybe I’ll run into Y/N someday. Hopefully in this lifetime. 

NEXT CHAPTER

[supernatural-bias]

𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬

↳ summary: in which crowley has a cold

↳ warnings: none!

↳ song: like real people do—hozier

masterlist!

Spring was a wonderful time of year all over the world. It was when the sun peaked its head out from behind fluffy clouds and let the flowers bloom, washing away any gloom winter might have left behind.

Walkways suddenly became full of pedestrians meandering about in city's and small towns alike. Large puffy parkas were shed in favor of light jackets and shorts.

Shops were suddenly bustling with all sorts of people out and about, taking advantage of the beautiful weather to buy a coffee or new pair of pants.

But in Soho, London, one shop seemed to be an outlier.

If any of the passing foot traffic had taken a moment to peak into the glassy windows of said shop, an elegant sign reading Fell & Co hanging over their heads, they would have had the pleasure of seeing three very different people all talking to each other idly.

Even if the conversation was anything but.

"Really Aziraphale, you think he'd be a bit less chatty when sick. Peace and quite for once an all that."

A light gasp sounded from your left, prompting you to look at the angel next to you.

"That is not nice!" Aziraphale said your name full of disappointment, prompting an apologetic smile to spread across your lips.

"Sorry, mate. But I'm not wrong, am I?" You said while continuing to help him shelf books.

"Bite me." A lump of blankets behind you growled in response, a head of red hair poking out of one end.

"No, thank you, Crowley. I'll catch your cold."

It was supposed to have been a normal day. You had called and asked Aziraphale if this afternoon was a good day to pop in for a visit, only to be met with the sort of panic that could only be described as fretting.

Apparently, Crowley has never taken too well to the springtime. Who knew a demon could have allergies?

Each time he or Aziraphale attempted to miracle away the cold, it would just pop back up a few seconds later. It was as if someone had cursed him with a mild inconvenience. You wouldn't be too surprised if that was the case, actually. I mean, this is Crowley you're talking about. He's not exactly the best at making friends—even if he did manage to snag you somehow.

By the time you had arrived at the bookstore, swinging open the door as the closed signed clattered against it loudly, they had given up on any thought of magical remedies.

So here you were. Hovering over the sick demon with a concerned look. Er, well, Aziraphale was. You had opted for more of a quirked eyebrow, not willing to show how worried you were just yet. Lord, er Satan, or whoever the fuck knows Crowley wouldn't let you live that down.

"If anything Crowley—" You paused for a moment to flip the book you had been holding upside down into its rightful place before handing it off to Aziraphale, "—I'd say this is karma from all those times you yell at your plants."

"To hell with my damn plants!" He sniffled, sun glasses no longer on his face as he glared at your back.

Before you could get a word in edgewise, a sneeze sounded out from the couch. Without even looking, your knee-jerk reaction kicked in.

"God bless you."

You got two very different reactions out of that.

Aziraphale practically beamed at your words, and Crowley hissed as if physically hit, curling in on himself. It wasn't until you stopped to consider what you had just said that you realized your blunder.

"Sorry." You cringed. "Forgot about the demon stuff."

"Forgot? Remind me, angel, why do we even keep them around." Crowley spat, pulling yet another blanket onto his ever growing pile. You risked a glance back at him only to be met with slitted eyes. You simply let out a nervous laugh before scooting to a different bookshelf farther away from him. Better safe than sorry when it came to your demon friend.

"Because we like them, remember? They complimented my vest and your Bently, and then you asked if we could keep them." The angel responded. If he noticed how you choked on air at that last bit, he didn't choose to say anything.

"He said what now?" You coughed harshly at the same time Crowley groaned.

"Yeah yeah. A mistake in the heat of the moment." Was all he said before retreating further into the blanket burrito he had concocted. Somewhere in there was a quilt you were sure Aziraphale had knitted for him centuries ago, but you chose not to point out the tiny detail, instead filing that information away for later as a hidden smile played at your lips.

"As much fun socializing with you two is, I must admit you need to get some rest, Crowley. If we are to fix this problem without a miracle, the human way will have to do." Aziraphale turned to face his companion after you helped file the last pile of books away. You were quick to follow his actions.

Crowley opened his mouth as if to retort, but his eyes flickered from your face and Aziraphales for just a moment. With that he muttered something under his breath and turned over grumpily.

"Just—bugger off." His words were muffled by a dense pillow currently being smooshed to his face. You couldn't tell if it was that or something else, but his voice didn't sound as venomous as it normally did when talking to you.

"Alrighty then!" Aziraphale clapped his hands with a smile, none the wiser. "Ring if you need us, won't you?"

With that, he began to politely exit in the direction of the back of the store. Probably to go read a new series he just got in or re-read another.

You shuffled off behind the angel—only pausing at the entrance to the backroom after taking one more look back at Crowley.

Without saying a word, you took your phone out and set the volume just high enough to be heard. Setting it down on a nearby surface, you pressed play before quickly tip toeing out the room. As if that would stop the fallen angel from figuring out who left it there.

You slipped away just in time to miss Freddy Mercury's voice start-up. As well as the way Crowley smiled in spite of himself, starting to feel a little better already.

[sykesandskittles]

CHAPTER 4

Harlow

Sorry. Going to sleep. Talk tomorrow.

I blink down at the text. It’s weirdly abrupt for her, but it’s late, and honestly, I’m just relieved she’s alive and back in her room. I haven’t texted her about what happened earlier, because, frankly, I’m not in the best mental space to type it all out. I’ll tell her in person tomorrow when I see her.

As soon as I got back to my room, though, I did have a text from Noah.

Are you ok?

I just ignored it and then blocked his number immediately. It just goes to show how right my first instincts about him were—he’s fucking trouble, and I don’t want anything to do with his twisted world.

I want to stay as far away from Noah Sabastian as humanly possible.

The next morning, on my way to class, I stop by Talia 's door. It’s locked, and my gentle knocks go unanswered, so I assume she’s just sleeping. She was out late, and she’s never been a morning person, so I decide to try back after lunch.

Class is a complete bore, and I’m barely paying attention—thinking about everything that happened last night. What I did wrong, what I could have done differently…

But, honestly, none of what happened was my fault, and people like Tyler shouldn’t be allowed to walk freely on campus—which is why, after class is over, I walk right over to the campus security office.

When I walk in, I address the first security person I see--a woman, around forty, sitting behind a desk, wearing a black security uniform. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

“I was assaulted last night,” I say abruptly. I’m not sugarcoating anything. That fucker needs to pay for what he did. The only thing I deliberately leave out is any mention of Noah. God only knows why, but he was just defending me, and I don’t want to get him in trouble for that.

The woman’s gaze falls to the bruises on my arm, and her expression turns immediately to concern. She pulls me into a room, and gets my full account of what happened last night, then calls the police.

While we’re waiting for them to arrive, she shakes her head. “Must have been a full moon last night or something.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Security found a sophomore last night, nearly beaten to death on the edge of campus. Took him to the hospital, and it looks like he’ll pull through, but–” she slows out a breath “–he’s going to have a long road ahead.” Her gaze shifts to me. “You don’t know anything about that, do you?”

I shake my head, taken aback by her question. Damn. I knew Noah had kicked the guy’s ass, but I had no idea how badly. Though, truthfully, I don’t even know if it’s the same guy we’re talking about here. “I—I don’t know. I can’t even tell you who attacked me–only that his first name is Tyler.”

She nods, and pushes off the desk, then scribbles the description down on a piece of paper.

When the police come, I file a full report, and they take photos of my injuries, then vow to look into it. They were pretty horrified, as was campus security, so I have confidence they’ll do their best to investigate the incident.

“In the meantime, don’t walk anywhere by yourself at night,” the police officer says. “And we’ll be in touch when we know more.”

I nod. “Okay, thank you.”

As I walk out of the campus security office, I feel a weight being lifted. It felt good to get all of that off my chest, and know I did my part, so hopefully Tyler can’t do something like that again to anyone else.

I missed my second class, so I head straight to my third. It’s still early— I have about fifteen minutes until I can sneak in and grab my usual seat at the back of the classroom, so I just wait outside in the hallway. I’m staring down at my phone to check if Talia texted me this morning when I hear a familiar baritone.

“Hello, Little Rabbit.”

My head snaps up to see Noah walking toward me.

Fuck.

I push out a breath. “I’m not interested. Especially after what happened last night. You can just stay the fuck away from me.”

He holds up my stun gun and hands it to me. “You forgot this.” I glare at him. “Do you hear me at all when I speak?”

He leans against the wall, all casual self-assurance. I saw this guy nearly beat someone to death last night, and now, here he is, standing in front of me like nothing happened. Though I notice his knuckles are raw and red, so I guess he’s human after all.

“I thought I made myself clear last night,” he says. “—I chose you. You’re mine. That’s it. There’s nothing either of us can do about that now.”

I hold my binder against my chest protectively. It’s a flimsy barrier, but it’s something. “So un-choose me, then. There were plenty of girls begging to be chosen last night. Pick one of them.”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t work that way, Little Rabbit.”

I pull a face, like what the fuck? “I thought you were, like…the most powerful guy on campus or something? Just tell everyone you saw me in the light of day and changed your mind.”

He laughs under his breath, just a puff of air, and his gaze flicks over me. His eyes linger on my face for a fraction too long. “They’d never believe that. ”

I pause. Was that a compliment? My cheeks flush under his scrutiny, but I force my features to remain neutral–as much as possible.

“Besides, there’s something you need to learn about ExU,” he says. “Here, we thrive on duty and tradition. You were–”

“I know, I know,” I interrupt. He’s like a broken record. “Chosen. Jesus. That fucking ceremony should come with a consent waiver. I had no idea what I was signing up for when I showed up at that house last night.”

He just shrugs, and I can practically hear his thoughts, sounds like a you problem.

“I went to security this morning,” I say, changing the subject. “and they said some guy was found beaten on the edge of campus. He’s int he hospital. Was that Tyler?”

He shrugs again. “Could be anyone. But, wherever that cunt Tyler is, he won’t be returning to ExU. The paperwork to have him expelled is being approved as we speak.”

My eyes go wide. Does he have that much power? He can just get someone kicked out of school without an investigation or anything? Damn. That’s brutal. Tyler deserves it, but still…

He must read the direction of my thoughts because he adds, “He knew better than to fuck with what's mine.”

I decide to ignore the “what’s mine” comment, because I know I’m not shifting his view on that—not immediately, anyway. “Well, I wish I’d known ExU is such a dangerous place. I would have picked another University.”

“It’s not dangerous if you play by the rules, Little Rabbit,” he says, pushing off the wall. “Keep your phone close. I’ll text you later.”

As he turns to walk away, I call after him, “Please don’t…text…me…” But he just continues to walk, like he’s not listening.

Goddamn.

Somehow I’ve gotten myself entangled with Noah Sabastian

. It’s a fucking entanglement

——

THE REST of the day passes in a blur, and still no text from Talia . It’s mid- day by the time I catch up with her. I’m just heading back to my room when I stop by and knock on her door. She answers, and the second I see her, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Goddamn, girl. You had me so stressed,” I say, pushing my way into her room. Her roommate is gone, thank goodness, so we have the small space to ourselves. I let my backpack fall to the floor, and I plop down on her bed. “Where the hell have you been?”

Talia shuts the door and comes to sit on the bed next to me. I immediately notice she’s not her usual bubbly self. “I was out late, and I decided to sleep in.”

I lean against her pillows. “Well, now that I know you’re okay, I’m pissed at you for ghosting me last night. I was waiting for you on the porch of that house when I was attacked by some asshole.”

“Attacked? ”

“Yeah, if Noah hadn’t jumped in, I don’t know…”

Tears well up in Talia 's eyes. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Harlow . I would have been there, really, but I was…kinda caught up in my own thing. Are you okay?”

Her tone is…off. I’ve known Talia long enough to know when something is wrong, and my gut is telling me something is very, very wrong. When she said “my own thing” her voice caught on the words, like she was trying not to cry. I sit up, now on full alert. “What happened last night?”

She just shakes her head and looks down at her hands. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m just glad we’re both okay.”

I grab her wrist and inspect her for any bruises. There’s nothing. “What happened, Talia ? You can tell me.”

When she looks up at me, she smiles, pulling her wrist out of my grip. The smile is forced, and I can tell she’s trying to put on a brave face. “Nothing really happened. I’m just being stupid. Forget about it. I guess no more creepy secret society ceremonies for us, right?” She laughs a little.

I lean back against the pillows. “I hope not, but I don’t know. That Noah guy insists I belong to him now, so who knows what he’s going to make me do.”

Talia nods, but I can tell she isn’t really paying attention. She looks tired. Maybe that’s why she’s acting so unlike herself.

I stand up. “Why don’t you get some more sleep?”

She shimmies up into the spot on her bed that I just vacated. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll text you in a bit. Be sure to answer.” She closes her eyes. “Mmm-hm.”

Grabbing my bag, I duck out of the room, unsettled by that entire interaction. Talia is usually an open book. A very bubbly open book, and it’s not like her to be so secretive. It’s weird. And I decide I’m going to get to the bottom of whatever happened last night. But first, she needs sleep. It might help her feel like herself again.

I immediately dart over to my English class. English has never been my strongest subject, but it’s one of those annoying required classes. When I’d enrolled, I’d decided to get all those pesky classes out of the way first, so I wouldn’t have to worry about them later.

This class is packed, but I manage to find a seat way up in the nosebleed section, which, unfortunately, means I need to snake past about a dozen

people.

We’re about halfway through class when the girl next to me leans over, and whispers to me. “Hey, you’re the one dating Noah Sabastian , right?”

I glance over, and I’m actually taken aback by her beauty. Long blond wavy hair, wide blue eyes, and a pair of outy pink lips that make her look younger than I’m sure she is. But the worst part, she’s beautiful without even trying. Minimal makeup, shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops. And she smells like the beach somehow.

“Um, I…” I’m technically dating Noah, according to him, I guess. But I don’t exactly want that information spreading–even though it sounds like it already has.

I don’t know what to say, so I just side-step the question altogether. “I’m Harlow .”

“Yeah, I know. You’re fucking royalty around here.” She smacks her gum and smiles. “I’m Skye.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say with an answering smile.

Royalty? How? I’ve been on campus for less than a week. Weird.

She leans in, and whispers, “Hey, do you think you could take notes for me? I gotta run.”

“Uh, sure.” I’m taking notes anyway, so why not ?

“Cool, thanks. Give me your phone and I’ll add my contact info.” I hand her my phone, and she types in her information quickly.

“Thanks, I just sent a text to my number, so I have your info. I’ll text you later.” She hands my phone back while she moves to get up, then seems to remember something and turns back to me. “Hey, our sorority is having a party tonight. You wanna come?”

Oh, God. Another party.

But it might be good for Talia to get out for a minute. Maybe it’ll cheer her up, and we’ll make sure to stay together this time.

“Okay. Thanks. Can I bring a friend?”

Skye’s face brightens. “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you the info.” “Great.”

And with that she’s gone, sneaking through the back door of the classroom.

Well. That was…nice. I guess I have a new friend now, which makes me smile to myself. I was a little worried I wouldn’t fit in at ExU. I have

fantasies about blending into the woodwork here, but Talia was right last night. I can’t spend my entire college experience in my dorm room.

After class, I head over to the coffee shop. I’m starving, but I have to make my scholarship money stretch, so cafe food isn’t an option. But, at this point, coffee is essential to life, so I decide to splurge on a small cup of plain drip coffee.

I’m in line when I feel a presence beside me. I glance over and see Noah standing next to me, a cheeky smile on his beautiful face.

“My God. What are you doing here?” I’m sure I have disgust written all over my face, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He snakes an arm around my waist and tugs me close to him. Then he buries his face in my hair, and talks in a low tone. “Play along.” Pulling back, he smiles down at me. “My next class isn’t for an hour. I thought we could have coffee together.”

I just push out a breath and try to calm my racing heart. I hate my reaction to him. I can’t help feeling like every other girl at ExU, fawning over the campus god. It’s so unbelievably pathetic. But tell that to my two beaded nipples, poised and ready to cut fucking glass.

When we get up to the register, I order my drink, and then he proceeds to order practically every food item on the menu. I reach into my pocket to pay for my drink, but Noah waves me off, handing the cashier his debit card.

Turns out it’s peak coffee o’clock, so all the tables are taken. Noah isn’t deterred in the least. He walks toward one of the tables, and before he can even say anything, the three people sitting there immediately get up and offer it to us—even wiping it down with a napkin first.

What the fuck?

I take the chair closest to the wall. Having the wall behind me makes me feel less vulnerable, somehow. Noah sits in the chair across from me, leaning back comfortably, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“I’m beginning to think I’ve stepped into an alternate universe,” I say with a sigh.

“Where’s your necklace?” Noah asks, ignoring my statement.

My hand flies to my throat, to the necklace that isn’t there. After putting in my purse last night, I hadn’t touched it. “It’s up in my room,” I answer .

He doesn’t look pleased by my answer–his dark brows drawn together in annoyance—but thankfully, he doesn’t push the issue. Maybe he knows

I’ll argue, and he doesn’t want me making a scene in front of everyone. Appearances seem to be everything here in this alternate universe.

Someone comes over with our coffee and a tray full of food—fruit, pastries, croissants, muffins, and slices of lemon poppyseed coffee cake. I eye a couple of the pastries, and my stomach growls, but I deliberately don’t reach for anything.

Noah watches me. “Eat something.”

I take a sip of my coffee, my eyes never leaving his. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

He sits back deeper in his chair, his jaw working. He doesn’t like hearing the word no and I file that away in my brain. If Noah thinks I’m going to be one of those girls at the Prefrence Ceremony, throwing myself at him, then he's fucked in the head. I don’t roll like that, and it’s probably better for both of us in the long run if he figures that out now.

“Harlow ,” he says slowly. I can hear the frustration in his tone. “You need to eat.”

I lift my chin. “What if I’m not hungry?”

There’s something about accepting food from this guy that feels, I don’t know…intimate, I guess. I’m not sure why I feel that way. Maybe it’s a remnant from my childhood. We never had much food in the house. Before my mom ditched me for a cult in Florida, she raised me as a single parent, and there were times when the gulf between paychecks was so wide that we had to depend on food banks.

So, yeah, seeing all this food on the table just feels indulgent. I’m dying to sink my teeth into the chocolate croissant in front of me, but my pride won’t allow me to reach out and take it. So instead, I just take another sip of my coffee.

“I know you’re hungry,” he replies with a bored tone. “I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

I swallow back the embarrassment that suddenly rises in my throat. Damn. He can hear my stomach growling? Could he be lying? Part of me wonders if he’s just telling me that to unsettle me, and throw me off balance.

I hate to admit it, but it’s working. I’m suddenly super self-conscious, and I can’t help it, my hand settles on my stomach.

“I didn’t have breakfast,” I offer in response.

He leans forward and pushes the chocolate croissant closer to me. With a sigh, I pick it up and take a bite. The chocolate melts on my tongue and combined with the buttery goodness of the flaky croissant, I almost moan. Almost. I manage to bite it back.

“Good, now we can talk,” he says, seemingly satisfied. I hate that I gave in to anything he demanded, but whatever. It’s the last time, so he should enjoy it while he can.

He pauses, just sitting there, watching me eat. He doesn’t eat anything himself, which is a little strange, considering he ordered all this food. But I don’t mention it, because, honestly, I don’t care enough about what he does or doesn’t do to bring it up.

“Well, whatever it is, get on with it, because I have a class in–” I glance at my phone “–twenty minutes.”

Annoyance crosses over his face. I guess he doesn’t like being rushed, either. This guy is a real piece of work.

“I want you to come over to my place tonight. Meet the guys.”

“Yeah, no. I can’t.” I finish the croissant and brush my hands together, dusting off the crumbs. “I have a thing tonight.”

He pulls a face like he can’t believe I actually have a life outside of classes. “What thing?”

I take a sip of my coffee. “Don’t worry about it.” “Harlow …” He says my name like a warning.

I push out a frustrated breath. “It’s not really your business, is it?”

He leans forward, his forearms resting on the round table. “See, that’s the thing, you are my business, Little Rabbit. In fact, everything you do is my business.”

I don’t know this guy at all, but I can tell I’ve already managed to piss him off. It’s probably not hard to do, to be fair. He seems like the kind of person who's always on edge.

I scrunch my nose and answer his question, but only because I don’t want to argue in front of all these people–especially since they’re all still watching us as they sip their coffees.

“I was invited to a party,” I say. He raises a dark brow. “Where?”

“I don’t know. Some girl from my English class invited me. Her sorority is throwing a thing tonight, I guess.”

I hope that by mentioning the sorority, he chills out. It’s a girl thing, so he shouldn’t be worried about other guys being there—not that it’s his call to make. He and I aren’t actually dating. I don’t even know him, for God’s sake. All I know is that his name is Noah Sabastian , he’s royalty on campus, and he’s a controlling douche. Not exactly fuck-me-please material.

He does have one redeeming quality, though. He’s beautiful. Like, cover-of-a-magazine beautiful. Even as he sits across from me, his messy dark hair falls over his forehead just so, making him look disheveled, but in a I-don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way. It’s entrancing.

But I know how fucked up handsome guys can be on the inside, where the shadows lurk, and honestly, I don’t want anything to do with it. I’ve been burned once, and I’m done with sexy-as-fuck guys. No, thanks. Give me a straight-up nerd any day of the week.

“Great,” he says, satisfied. “What time?”

I pause. He doesn’t think he’s going with me, does he? “I’m going with my friend Talia .” I mean, hopefully. She hasn’t agreed to go with me yet. But I’m sure I can convince her. She’s always down for a party.

He laughs a little as if to say, how cute. “Nice try. But you’re not going anywhere without me, Little Rabbit. I don't want to keep having to remind you—you’re mine now.”

It’s not the actual words that get me, it’s the look in his eyes. He means every fucking syllable. Before, I assumed this was all just for show. Like, it was just some elaborate way for him to save face in front of everyone. But that dark look in his eyes is clear.

Noah Sabastian thinks he owns me.

[makeyoumine69]

Hi Lexiii and hear me out! You always cook with Patrick's pov, so listen: imagine having rough sex in his office? We're so down for him, we're so needy and soaking for him! I'mma scream if you do something with such plot and daddy kink and maybe make Patty show some love to our tits? Anyway, I'm sure you'll deliver! I love ya sm!🩷💖🤭🤭🤭

NSFW PROSE 1 (Patrick's POV)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: PWP, unprotected rough vaginal sex, nipple play, body worship, hair pulling, creampie, Daddy kink, minor degradation kink, dirty talk, pet names, dom!Patrick.

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello, thank you for your kind words and for sending me this request! I'm slowly working my way through all my WIPs, I hope to finish them all whenever I have the time!

Being stuck in the office late at night was the worst thing that could happen to me, but being stuck in there with you was a whole other story. 

When I pressed you against the door of my fancy office with your back to me, hiked up the hem of your dress and pushed my fingers into your mouth, you took them eagerly, almost hungrily. My lips then covered yours, craving your taste more than anything else in the world, and I heard you whimper into the kiss as I pressed you harder against the solid door.

"Daddy..." you begged as you heard me unzip my pants. "You're so hard...is it because of me?"

God, you wanted me so badly, even though you probably didn't know what you were asking for. Smirking, I just chuckled at first, but a little later I slipped the straps of your dress to reveal your full breasts and squeezed them with both of my hands—your tits fitting so perfectly into my large palms.

"A-ahhhh..." a muffled whimper escaped your swollen lips as you covered my hands on your breasts. "Are you gonna...f-fuck me?"

Your little nasty sounds drove me fucking crazy. So goddamn desperate—like you were begging with every breath. I grinned against you, I could feel your heart racing—your body pressed so tightly between me and the door... it's like I could feel every inch of you shivering. 

Shaking. Needing. Melting.

My hands tighten on your soft mounds, thumbs grazing over those perfectly hard nipples, eliciting another sweet moan from you. By this time you were practically pleading under your breath and I was loving it. Slowly, almost torturously, I pressed my hips against your ass, grinding just enough for you to feel how hard I was and fuck...you were so wet...I could sense the dampness even through the fabric of your panties.

"You want me to fuck you right here..." I growled, my hands slipping lower down your sides, gripping your hips with enough force to leave marks; your body arched instinctively. "You want me to fuck you until you can't even stand, sweetheart?"

Your breath hitched, then another muffled moan caressed my ears. I let my hand slide over the curve of your ass—leisurely pulling your dress up until it was bunched around your waist. You gasped as I moved your panties aside to feel all of you—directly, without barriers.

"So fucking soaked..." I grunted against your neck, my fingers trailing down your slippery slit—slowly at first—just to make you squirm even more. Damn, I could feel every reaction. Every trembling sigh. You were literally writhing now—pressing your ass back into me like you were starving for it. And I couldn't help the smug grin that spread across my face. The way you reacted to my every touch. "I'm gonna ruin you."

The second those filthy little sobbed whispers left your lips—"Please...Daddy...my pussy...hurts without you...inside..."—I lost control.

Aroused as hell, I didn't even bother to pull your panties down completely, I couldn't wait. Not with you like this, not with you moaning my fucking title like you forgot how to breathe without it. A little aggressively, I grabbed a fist full of your hair, yanking your back just enough so that your body arched perfectly against me, my free hand reaching for my zipper—the rasp of it loud, intimate, just like every fucking gasp you made.

"P-Patrick..." Your breathless stutter barely escaped your lips before I aligned myself with your tight little hole. You were dripping, shaking, and I hadn't even pushed all the way in yet. And I didn't even ask you how you felt, nor did I care to give you time to adjust.

I thrust into you—mercilessly and harshly.

Your cry was muffled by the door, your hand slipping up to brace itself as your entire body jerked forward from the impact. My grip on your hair tightened as I slammed into you again as hard as I could, owning every inch of you. You were almost screaming now—loud enough that I was sure the echoes would fill every corner of this business center, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered when your body responded to everything I did—every thrust, every inch of my fat cock brushing against your warm, tight walls. Without a second thought, I pressed my hips harder against your backside and buried myself deeper inside you. Fuck... you felt so good, so fucking good. And the way your cunt clung to me with every movement? 

Jesus.

I pulled back just enough to thrust into you again, deeper this time. Your cries were uncontrollable now—pure fucking pleasure spilling out of your throat like you couldn't even stop it. Each thrust sent your body forward—your breasts pressing against the cold door of my office. My hands gripped your hips harder, digging into your soft flesh, and I could feel you tightening around me with each passing second.

You were so fucking close.

"You like that, huh?" I growled into your ear before my teeth grazed the back of your neck as I rammed into you again—faster now. "You love being fucked like this... don't you?"

Your answer was almost a scream—desperate, high-pitched. "Yes! Oh God... please... don't stop... Daddy... please."

I lost it completely.

My rhythm faltered for a second as I buckled deeper, hammering into you until each thrust sent you over the edge. Teetering on the brink, you were trembling all over, your legs barely holding you up as I ravaged you from the inside out. Meanwhile, I could feel it building inside of me, too—the way your hot cunt cramped around my throbbing dick, the way you moaned my fucking title over and over...

I was right there, right fucking there.

My hands moved from your hips to your breasts again, squeezing them roughly as I pounded into you one last time, causing your entire body to tense, to fucking shatter into pieces—you let out a sharp yelp—your hands gripping the door like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

And then everything fell apart.

You came hard—your legs quivering, your pussy convulsing around my cock like it was trying to pull me deeper inside. And your gasps, damn, they were erratic and so fucking desperate. At that moment I could barely hold on, knowing that your body was a fucking mess beneath me, shaking violently as your orgasm tore through you, every nerve ending firing. And I... I couldn't take it anymore.

With my eyes closed, I thrust into you one last time, sinking deep into that perfect cunt before everything fucking crashed through me, my grip on your breasts tightening and my whole body tensing as I finally released inside you.

The whole world collapsed upon us.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[angelcakestarlet]

salvatore part 3.0

richie jerimovich x reader

warnings: age gap, cheating (eventually) (guys it's for the plot i swear), drugs mentioned, swearing.

guys this part is gonna be divided into two bc it didn't fit into one post :< they've been posted at the same time, u can find part 3.5 on my acc! thanks 4 all the love cuties <3

most people would call richie an asshole, it was just his nature y'know? how he walked around with that smirk you couldn't wipe off his face, fucking with cousin, trying to 'man the ship' and take control with his abrasive voice and attitude. after you got hired at the beef though, everyone wondered to what extent of an asshole richie really was. carmy and tina were on his ass the most, gifting him a quick smack on the shoulder or upside the head whenever they caught him staring at you, eyes trailing you out the door. they knew he could be an asshole, obviously, but they wondered if he was really the type of guy to take one look at your gleaming eyes and full cheeks and not be able to help himself. everyone in the kitchen called you 'baby', there was no avoiding how obviously young you were. richie knew, of course he knew, the way you looked up at him through your long lashes. the bags under your eyes nowhere near as dark and deep as his or carmy's. you were achingly sweet, and it killed him. when you smiled at him, bidding him his daily 'good morning, richie!' he felt his teeth rot in his mouth. like he wanted to store you away in his pocket and never let anyone ruin that sparkle you held behind your eyes. yet at the same time, if it was up to him, he could be the one to do it. a reminder he felt every time he played with the ring on his left hand. god, he could ruin your life if you let him. it's not like actively wanted to, but whenever he caught a glimpse of the sun hitting your soft skin he felt something intangible. so when you came up behind the alley and sat next to him on your first day, and he saw the way your glossed lips wrapped around his cigarette he knew he couldn't help himself, he wouldn't. he saw it that day, a part of you is sick enough to want this too. from that point on, you play along. his sweet names for you, soft touches, like he wanted to guide you, teach you. 

"tell baby she can't be ringing in the orders all at once, cousin!" carmy yelled over at richie through the expo. "well maybe if you picked up the pace, did the damn system the way it's meant to be done you'd get it done, cousin." richie yells back rolling his eyes, he was being stubborn about all of carmen's new 'rules'. "just tell her, asshole!". richie threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen to find you ringing in orders on the new tablet that only you can seem to figure out. he comes up beside you, gently pulling your hand off the screen. you turn, recognizing richie's strong cigarette and minty aroma. "cousin's being a little bitch so i'm just gonna need you to slow down on ringing in orders. alright, sweetheart?" he nods his head towards you. "oh shit, i'm sorry richie i forgot you guys were short staffed today! if you want i can help back there-" richie chuckles at you stumbling over your words. "no no, don't worry about it, doll. you keep your pretty little self up here-" he grabs your shoulders facing you back towards your tables, "and let me worry about what's going on back there". you let out a small laugh and agree, feeling his big hands gripping your shoulders. "keep raking in those tips, baby!" he yells back as he makes his way back into the kitchen. "yo, you told her, cousin?" carmy questions as richie walks back into the hectic kitchen. "yeah fuck off, she's doing great out there. that face brings in the big bucks man" sydney throws her head back at his words, "richie you can't be saying that! i think even the way you look at her is an HR violation." "syd, fuck off, i am HR" he responds with a cocky tone making sydney roll her eyes.

it was a few days after the day of the game, and the little show richie put on to protect you from some drunk asshole. he had laughed to himself the entire way home, imagining your 'boyfriend' picking you up that night. and every night after work as a matter of fact. how you'd go home to him and lay in bed thinking about richie. his hands, the scruff on his face, the shadow his figure casted over you when he stood behind you, the way his gaze imprinted on you, and the way his voice changed when directed towards you. richie could always clock the want in your eyes, almost like you would surrender yourself to whatever would fall from his mouth. finding out about your boyfriend just confirmed his suspicions; you were just the type of girl who's looking for someone to take good care of her. 

it was the following friday night after a particularly stressful shift at the beef (when wasn't it) and tina had rounded everyone up, convincing everyone to head to the bar. "ugh, but tina i'm all sweaty" you frowned, always wanting to head out looking your best. "baby throw on a dress and some lipstick and i promise you'll look just fine, mija." she came up to you, reaching up to flatten your fly aways with her small hands. "plus who you trying to look good for anyways, richie?" she laughed but then quickly noticed your red face and paused. "what?" you asked slowly with a nervous tinge. "don't tell me you got the hots for richie, girl." she looked at you, eyebrows as crinkled as ever. after your lack of response she let out a long sig, "ay no, niña. i love that boy, i really do but he is bad news. plus baby he's too old for you, my god, and you're too pretty. no no no you stay away from him." she ranted on before you could even get a word in. "no, tina! i don't, I promise!" you exclaimed, she stared unconvinced, "plus i've got a boyfriend". "hmmm, okay, i'm watching you girl. go get ready." her tone still sounded unconvinced, just a bit more at ease knowing you're at least 'taken'. you quickly composed yourself in the dim fluorescent's of the beef's bathroom as everyone made their way to the bar. slapping on some lipstick, your hoops, and trying to manage as much of your hair as you could. "wepa!! look at you, come on let's go before everyone gets drunk by the time we get there" tina pulls you off into her car. 

pt 3.5 up now!!

[pretty-purple-pages]

𝓬𝓸𝔀𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮

synopsis: libby gets hate on insta posts and who is nash not to defend his beloved soon-to-be-wife?

pairing: libby x nash (the inheritance games)

content: fluff fluff fluff, hate comments, nash and libby being the perfect couple, mentions of their wedding

word count: 500

liked by cowboylikeme, hawthorne_heiress and 10,000 others

goth_cupcakes baking for my fiancé! <3

tagged: cowboylikeme

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user1 girl i beg you for the recipe 🙏🙏 ↳goth_cupcakes its here [link] ↳user1 you are a goddess thank you ↳user2 she's acc so sweet (like her cookies) liked by goth_cupcakes

cowboylikeme can't wait to marry you ↳goth_cupcakes exactly like its such a LONG time, i want to marry you NOW >:( ↳cowboylikeme patience love ↳user5 i DID NOT need to be reminded of my singleness on a sunday morning >:( ↳scones_ontop frfr ↳motherfaxingmax HEY YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND

hawthorne_heiress gimme some later ↳cowboylikeme hawthornes don't share cookies ↳daredevil he never said smth like this SHARE THE DAMN COOKIES

Grayson_Hawthorne The cupcakes look nice. ↳goth_cupcakes thank you gray but please for the love of god and your work, drop the capitals and punctuation ↳Grayson_Hawthorne No.

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liked by goth_cupcakes, alisa_ortega and 20,000 others

cowboylikeme give me my hat back

tagged: goth_cupcakes

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goth_cupcakes nope ↳cowboylikeme please? ↳goth_cupcakes you can do better ↳cowboylikeme my gorgeous goddess girlfriend, soon to be wife, the love and light of my life, i, on my knees beg you to return my hat ↳goth_cupcakes fine 🙄 take the damn hat back ↳hawthorne_heiress everyone, she's sobbing cuz of the 'wife' ↳goth_cupcakes IM NOT ↳user7 i love my parents

user5 the way she keeps him on his knees 🛐 liked by cowboylikeme ↳hawthorne_heiress my sister's so girlboss ↳motherfaxingmax i need lessons cuz my "boyfriend" FORGOT that he had a girlfriend 🙄 ↳scones_ontop I SAID IM SORRY

user6 does no one realise that she's manipulating everyone by being OVERLY sweet SHE IS A LIAR ↳cowboylikeme with all due respect, which is none, fuck off. ↳user2 no one needs your toxicity here ↳hawthorne_heiress bitch you're trying to gaslight people into thinking my sister is manipulative, you're the liar here

user12 user6 OMG I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW THIS ↳user18 EXACTLY LIKE SHE'S DISGUSTING ↳Grayson_Hawthorne I have the names and social security numbers.

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liked by hawthorne_heiress, goth_cupcakes and 30,000 others

cowboylikeme i'd happily get manipulated by this gorgeous liar

tagged: goth_cupcakes

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goth_cupcakes 🥹🥹 i love you so so so so much ↳cowboylikeme i love you more darling

user7 if my bf ain't like this im dumping his ass ↳user5 hawthornes raised our standards too high then left us with too high standards and no bitches

user3 user6's been real quiet since this dropped ↳user1 i acc feel second-hand embarrassment for them ↳user2 and user12 and user18 too ↳user4 i heard they went into hiding

user11 i want a nash on the go, please and thank you

hawthorne_heiress you have my full approval to marry my sister liked by cowboylikeme

daredevil wedding when? ↳scones_ontop fr like get married already idiots 🙄 /aff ↳Grayson_Hawthorne The wedding transactions have been made.

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a/n: i'm sorry this so short, its my first smau ever so lmk if you like it

©reyna-obsessed | Not to be reposted, translated or copied on any platform

[lovurg]

౨ৎ purely platonic — m. wheeler

𝐼. pairing/s: mike wheeler x gn!reader

𝐼𝐼. summary: after confessing your feelings to mike, he began avoiding you, leaving you in a state of confusion and heartache. you spent your days pondering over the past, trying to understand what had gone wrong and desperately attempting to forget about the whole situation.

𝐼𝐼𝐼. warnings: mike being an asshole, and miscommunication.

wouldn't you love to understand what he was truly feeling?

it has been weeks since you confessed and he was full on avoiding you and you were slowly getting tired of it. tired of all the “i need to think about it” yes you understood that of course, god how couldn’t you? you know the feeling but him ignoring you afterwards was just so plainly irritating and you wanted to curl up and die.

“he’s clearly avoiding you. he’s such an idiot, and, it’s not you, okay? he’s just a big pussy who can’t handle his feelings, he’s liked you since you were like what? five years old? lucas told me all about it and look. if he can’t figure out his feelings or if he cant talk to you about it then fuck him.” max said, holding you close as you teared up on her shoulder. it was complicated, and you kept telling yourself to stop crying over some stupid guy.

the same stupid guy you've liked ever since you found out your hair grew from your scalp not your ends.

now, you were stuck in a whirlwind of side glances and an inability to concentrate whenever he was around. he looked so happy, like he forgot everything that happened. and while he was having the time of his life, you were wallowing away in the corner of your room looking at meaningless platonic polaroid photos.

meaningless fucking polaroid pictures – they weren’t meaningless, no, not to you. the polaroid showed mike kissing your temple while you smiled brightly. both of you were covered in paint, you were painting dustin’s garage in this. a few weeks before you confessed.

was he leading me on? you thought, because friends don't typically kiss each other like that. not when one friend despises romance and the other is selectively kind, only to you. he held your hand, hugged you endlessly, and you almost fucking kissed on your birthday. none of that felt purely platonic.

you shouldn’t have ever confessed. everything would’ve gone like normal. and maybe you would never know what he felt about you but he did everything a boyfriend would do. and you just couldn't handle it. you thought you were strong, strong enough to resist the urge to confess, but here you were.

the next morning unfolded like any other. mike was hanging out with his friends, and max had chosen to spend the day with you, which made it pass relatively quickly. on your way home, you decided to stop by a spot that had been a special place for you and mike.

it used to be just the two of you, sharing moments and gazing at the view. the forest had always scared you, but with him, it felt safe. now, you were sitting there alone, lost in your thoughts.

suddenly, a twig snapped, and you turned your head to see mike. his eyes widened, and he offered an awkward smile.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, your disappointment and frustration evident in your voice. "here to reject me? go ahead, be my guest."

mike hesitated for a moment before speaking, "no, i actually, uh… i wanted to apologize. for everything, and yeah. i'm genuinely so sorry and…" you interrupted, "did max and dustin force you into this? you were never one for apologies. it's fine." you put on an awkward smile to ease the tension.

but mike called out your name, "let me finish. please. you hate being interrupted, so stop interrupting me."

you rolled your eyes but nodded, "okay, fine. go ahead. speak."

"i like you—no, i love you too," mike confessed, his words tumbling out with a mix of relief and vulnerability. "god, i was just being a damn coward about it because i didn't want to face you. how could you ever love someone like me? you're popular, you're amazing, you're so smart, and you use big words i can't even understand, and that's what i admire so much about you. jesus christ," he said your name, "i love you so much, you have absolutely no idea how much i just want to kiss you right now—"

before he could finish his sentence, you couldn't contain your feelings any longer. you rushed over to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him passionately. his arms wrapped around your waist, and your arms snaked up over his neck, pulling him even closer.

mike, slightly breathless but with a warm smile, managed to say, "that was… really nice, amazing. but my speech isn't done yet." both of you chuckled, and you urged him to continue, saying, "okay."

"when you said my bike was a little spruce, you were right," mike continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "you're always right. my tire had a hole, and when you helped me study for my biology test, i got a good score, even though ninety percent of it was just admiring you. but still, you get my point. you're too good for me. i don't deserve you."

you laughed softly and retorted, "fuck you, wheeler," while pecking his lips once more before wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "don't avoid me next time."

mike replied, "promise."

author's note: this is my first piece of fiction here, and it's quite short, but i hope you enjoyed it. please consider reblogging or liking it if you did! lots of love.