#I’m sorry the last panel looks shit

[bluebutlikenotalways]

Now THAT’S what I call a wet dream hahahahaaahaaaaahAAAaaahaaaaaaaaAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I know this is the only part you care about

also I got all the character references from cosmicwhore because they literally the one who got me into these two in the first place

[6esiree]

They Barge Into Your Room While You’re Changing

Imagine Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, and Adam walking in on you changing? Well, for the most part, they barge in and catch you in a difficult situation.

Warnings: I suck at these but uhh, NSFW, AFAB reader, Swearing, Usage of terms like good girl/little girl, oral, penetration, smut is brief tho. Not proofread. I wrote this lil thingy super quickly—sorry for the wait! MINORS DNI!!!

Alastor:

The sound of something shattering had Alastor’s ears perking up, but it wasn’t until it was followed by your helpless cry that he grew curious. You seemed…troubled, desperate even, so how could he resist the temptation to barge into your room? But as he whipped open your door, the doorknob rudely slamming against the cheap wooden paneling, he was disappointed but also slightly amused to see you stuck in a rather strange predicament.

“Fuck! Stupid thing—why won’t you come off?” You hissed, struggling to free your arms from a shirt that was nowhere near your size, your knees planted on the carpet. “Alastor? Oh, are you going to stand there and make me feel more embarrassed than I already am, or are you going to help me?” You snapped, your vulnerable state pleasing him. He closed the door behind him, his fingers carefully twisting the lock.

“Oh, forgive me for answering your pathetic cries for help! Perhaps I should take a seat over there,” Alastor gestured to your bed with his cane, bending down to your level, a shit-eating grin on his face, “And watch this amusing scene you’ve somehow concocted as punishment for your attitude, little girl.”

‘Wait, no!’ You started, but Alastor turned on his heel, the tip of his shoe dragging against the carpet fibers and pushing aside the remnants of your bedside lamp. ‘How thoughtful,’ You deadpanned, your bed creaking underneath his weight. Out of all the people who could have barged into your room, why did it have to be Alastor? He was such a pain in the ass, finding enjoyment in watching others suffer.

“What are you waiting for, hm?” You felt the butt end of Alastor’s cane tap at your ass, and you would have cursed him out if he hadn’t flipped your skirt up, the cold material teasingly dragging up and down your clothed cunt. “Go on, darling, I’ll help you if you put on a little show for me.”

You offered him a ‘Fuck you,’ before complying, hooking your fingers into the collar of your shirt, a distant ache coursing through your muscles as you pulled once more. You felt utterly humiliated, but at the same time, you were secretly enjoying what Alastor was doing to you, shivering as his lips parted with a pleased sigh at the sight of your panties bunching up and outlining your cunt due to your wetness.

“For someone who wanted to be helped, you’re being awfully compliant,” Alastor chuckled. You bit the inside of your cheek, however, especially with the sound of a belt being unbuckled gracing your ears. “Tell me, do you want to get fucked by my cane like the filthy little harlot you are?”

“I’m not…going to tell you that,” You stammered, Alastor clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment. Even if you had done so, the tightness in his pants was just too great for him to indulge you. “Very well, then,” He said, tapping your cunt one last time before withdrawing his cane.

You looked over your shoulder, confused by the sudden turn of events. But then he approached you, kneeling down to tear into your shirt with his claw, freeing your arms from the tight cotton prison. ‘Am I receiving compensation for this?’ Alastor hummed, sporting a hefty erection. Of course the bastard had only helped you for his own personal benefit, but you nodded anyway, his eyes widening as you wiggled your ass with a wicked smile on your face.

Lucifer:

Another boring, sleepless night at the Hazbin Hotel—or so that’s what Lucifer thought, the distant sound of a struggle penetrating his ears as he passed by your room. He would’ve continued on his nightly stroll if his feet hadn’t moved outside of his own volition. Well, that’s what Lucifer tried to convince himself as he tentatively pressed his cheek against the door…until the loose hinges suddenly gave him away. At least he was quick to straighten himself out.

“Oh! Hey there—hi! I didn’t mean to do that,” Lucifer coughed, his face flushing in embarrassment as you stared back at him like a deer caught in the headlights, your arms crossed over your chest, obscuring the top half of the tight little, long-sleeved dress you were wearing. “I tried to knock, I swear, but then the door kind of opened up all by itself. Really, I would never—“

“I, uh—I believe you, don’t worry. The hinges are kind of loose…I have a bad habit of slamming doors,” You chuckled, trying to stand up to your full height, but then the sound of fabric tearing echoed throughout your room. “Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing,” You squeaked, “I can’t handle anybody else seeing me like this, though, so could you like, help me out here?”

When you whispered his name with a pleading look on your face, Lucifer quickly closed the door behind him, dragging a random piece of furniture in front of it for extra measure. He tried not to make his nervousness evident as he slowly rounded you, but his fingers gave him away, trembling against your sides. Fuck, it was just so tight, accentuating the curvature of your body almost like a corset would.

“Alright, let’s see here—oh no,” Lucifer said, his fingers hooking underneath your dress from the sides, experimentally tugging it. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t budge, a blush crawling up his neck as it rolled up and revealed more of your skin instead. “Nope, that’s not going to work. How about I lift it up?”

“Please, this thing is practically strangling my arms,” You stuttered. Lucifer wondered how you managed to get it on in the first place, all while he gripped the dress, trying to maintain a respectable distance from you. “Shit, I’m never borrowing anything from Angel’s closet again. He’s so damn skinny.”

Lucifer tried to avert his eyes, but with your ass slowly coming into view, how could he resist stealing a glance—or two, or three, or even four? He felt so guilty, but then you just so happened to lose your balance, bracing yourself on the bed and practically showcasing your half-naked body to him. You offered him a meek apology as you stared at him from over your shoulder. Did you get back up, though? No, not at all.

“Maybe you’ll be able to get it off faster this way?” You suggested, subtly but not so subtly spreading your legs, revealing your damp panties. Lucifer breathed out an ‘Okay,’ pressing his growing erection into you as he leaned in. “Thanks for helping me, Lucifer. I hope you’ll let me repay you for your kindness.”

The moment you decided to balance yourself on the bed, Lucifer knew what you were doing; but your words had his pants pooling around his ankles, his fingers shakily tucking your panties into the inside of your thigh. Nothing could compare to the sight of you spreading your glistening cunt with your dainty fingers, however, your hole pulsating in invitation. Lucifer was so, so glad he chose not to mind his own business as his cock pushed past your folds.

Husk:

Every day you slid onto the barstool in front of Husk, his chest vibrating in amusement as your face lit up at the sight of your favorite drink waiting for you. That’s why the one time you failed to show up, the full glass in front of your vacant spot dripping with condensation and threatening the integrity of the already cheep wooden countertop, he decided to ask around for you. Unfortunately, nobody knew where you were, so Husk found himself at your door.

“Hey, doll, I don’t mean to disturb ya,” Husk started, his ears falling back against his head as a frustrated cry penetrated the wood. “Just wanted to check up on ya—“ but when he heard something shatter, he just had to let himself into your room, his heart sinking into his stomach at the thought of you in trouble.

“What the fuck, who—Husk?” You panted, staring back at him with rosy cheeks and tousled hair, the contents of a broken bottle of perfume leaking into the carpet before your feet. ‘Shit,’ Husk quickly averted his eyes when he noticed you were in the middle of changing, feeling utterly embarrassed but also secretly relieved that you were alright. “Uhh, I guess now that you’re here, do you think you could lend me a hand?”

Husk hesitated, mumbling ‘Ya sure ya want me to help?’ Of course he’d act so abashed, you thought with a snort. You watched him roll his eyes and close the door with his tail, the hinges softly clicking. Slowly, Husk approached you, his pupils dilating as you turned around and pointed out the strings tightly keeping your dress together with your index finger, the very reason you had failed to show up on time.

“Christ, what happened here?” Husk asked, trying to be mindful of his claws as he slowly untied your dress, the strings in all the wrong places. You looked over your shoulder, playfully telling him to shut up before following up with a serious response. “I’ve never worn a dress without a zipper, alright?” You said. “Damn, doll, I can tell. I mean, ya made a proper mess back here.”

“Hey, I wore this for you,” You admitted, your face flushing in embarrassment as Husk chuckled at that, but then relief quickly washed over you at the feeling of him completely undoing the last string. “I appreciate it, but, ya know,” He practically purred into your ear, plastering himself against your back, his hands sliding into your dress to caress your bare hips. “This is enough to please this old man.”

You tossed your head back onto Husk’s shoulder with a sigh, your eyes fluttering shut as his sandpaper tongue seized the opportunity to roughly caress the expanse of your throat. Meanwhile, the once-constricting fabric slipped from your chest down to your stomach, revealing more of your body to him. ‘May I?’ Husk’s question tickled your skin, answering him by pushing your ass back into his growing erection.

“Mm, aren’t ya just the goodest of girls?” Husk groaned, encouraging you to brace yourself on your dresser nearby. When he kicked your legs open, you expected him to unfasten his pants and fuck you til your legs were numb, but no. Instead, he knelt down, hiking a leg over his shoulder and shoving his snout into your clothed cunt, a smile gracing his lips when you gasped. “Is this fine with ya?”

Oh, you were more than fine with Husk eating you out, eagerly nodding as you stared down at him through your lashes. He licked a long, heavy stripe onto you before deciding to tear into your panties with his claw, exposing you to the cold air. ‘I’ll buy ya anotha pair, babydoll,’ Husk said, latching onto your clit, suckling until you were wet enough to handle the spines on his tongue. You secretly thanked yourself for your inability to use a zipper-less dress.

Vox:

The sound of heels clicking against linoleum echoed throughout the hallway, a product of Vox incessantly pacing back and forth. His patience thinned with every passing second, and as exaggerated as it seemed, you were already late to your dinner reservation. Five, maybe ten minutes was perfectly reasonable to him, but half an hour? No, you might as well call it off. When Vox felt himself overheating in frustration, he decided to zap himself into your room.

“Now, what the fuck is taking you—oh,” Vox said, the look of annoyance on his face quickly transitioning into one of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes, trying to understand the situation you had inadvertently designed. “What in the Hell—how did you do this to yourself, exactly?” Vox gestured with his hand, your arms sticking up with the way your dress was pulled over your head.

“It was too tight and I refused to accept that I had gained weight,” You explained, your voice muffled but understandable nonetheless. Vox couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched your mouth move against the fabric. “But then I put it on, and I realized if I even thought about trying to walk in this—look, can you just save me from the embarrassment and get this thing off of me?”

You impatiently bounced on your heels as Vox rounded you, squeaking at the feeling of his claws teasingly raking your sides. ‘Hey!’ You said, the man offering you an insincere apology before tearing into the fabric without your permission. A whine escaped your throat—what a cruel thing he had done, you thought, your favorite dress falling to the ground in two pieces. Seething, you turned around, unbothered by the fact that you were standing in just your underwear.

“You asshole, you didn’t even try pulling it!” You seized him by his suit jacket, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared down at you without a single ounce of regret. “Perhaps you should have specified that,” Vox hummed, clearly unaffected by your display of anger. In fact, he found it rather amusing, and oh, did that piss you off.

“Ah, fuck me! I’m sorry for believing that you had common sense,” You hissed, tightening your grip on his jacket, secretly wishing you had the strength to tear into it like he had with your dress. “Unless you don’t have that implemented in your system, you fucking bucket of bolts,” Vox furrowed his brows, “I suggest you download it—it’ll take you a long way, trust me.”

Bam!—Vox suddenly had you up against the wall, whatever you had on top of your dresser tumbling to the ground. You flinched at the sound of something shattering, but you couldn’t do anything about it, not when Vox had your arms pinned above your head with one hand, the other firmly wrapped around your throat. His claws dug into your skin, instilling a bit of fear in your heart.

“Hey, um, I think you’re forgetting that we could have been having a nice, romantic dinner at one of Hell’s most exclusive restaurants,” Vox started, his screen slightly buffering as he stared down at you. “If you hadn’t been so fucking stubborn.” You had the nerve to speak. “So…what now?” You shakily asked, your throat bobbing underneath his palm.

With an insurmountable speed, Vox had you on your knees, forcing you to watch him unbuckle his belt. ‘I’m going to fuck the shit of your mouth,’ He said, the tip of his cock kissing your chin when he finally freed himself. ‘Come on, sweetheart. It’s the least you can do.’ You hated to admit it, but Vox was right…to some degree. All of this could have been avoided easily. So, you obediently parted your lips, trying not to gag as you swallowed his cock.

Adam:

There was no such thing as barging into your room—at least not if you asked Adam. Your monthly meet-ups consisted of him descending onto your balcony and pushing your doors apart, furling his wings and discarding his mask as he’s welcomed by the heavenly but not so heavenly sight of you sprawled out on your bed. For once, however, Adam arrived about an hour earlier, walking in on you in the middle of a struggle.

“Surprise, surprise! Guess who’s here early—holy shit, babe,” Adam approached you, shocked, your face absolutely flushed as he took in the sight of you in a corset. He personally believed you didn’t need it, but that didn’t stop him from stirring in his robes with the way it accentuated your curves in an ungodly manner. “This is—I mean—wow. You look so fucking gorgeous.”

“I’m glad you think so, seriously. But, um, I’m starting to regret putting it on,” You admitted, dropping your head sort of shamefully. You really wanted to keep it on for Adam, but you had tightened it more than you should have, and now you just wanted to take it off. “I’ve been trying to get it off for a while already, but uh, I went a little overboard. Never worn one before, that’s why.”

Of course, Adam’s face dropped at your admission, but at the same time, he couldn’t have you feeling uncomfortable for your…activities. So, he offered you his help, even though he had not a single idea about how corsets worked. ‘Don’t worry, babe, I gotcha!’ He said, taking one last appreciating look before he rounded you. Yeah, Adam instantly regretted offering himself up—what the fuck was he looking at, exactly?

“Alright, uh, could you guide me through it?” Adam coughed, his fingers hovering above the laces, unsure about where to start. You reached behind you and grabbed his hand, gingerly guiding him. “Just undo these two loops here—pull them at the same time,” He followed your instructions. “Yeah, just like that, baby.” The praise definitely had him blushing.

You let out a sigh of relief as Adam repeated this over and over again, his fingers dutifully working away until he finally finished. ‘Thank you,’ You breathed out, tossing your head back onto his chest, reaching up and tapping his masked cheek. Adam quickly discarded it with a ‘Thump!’, leaning down to meet you halfway. He groaned, the sound of your lips softly gliding against each other exciting him.

“Do you have to take it off?” Adam asked as his hands came down to caress your sides before resuming the kiss. While you didn’t give him a verbal response, the way you groped him through his robes was a reminder of what he came to you for. “Fuck, okay. Maybe some other time, yeah?”

“Mm, you’re going to have to convince me,” You hummed, retracting your hand so you could open the front busk. Adam seized your jaw and placed his thumb on your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth. “You’re in for a long fucking night then, babe,” His tongue tangled with yours, eliciting a choked moan from you, “‘Cause I’m not gonna let up on you til you’re screaming ‘Yes.’”

As soon as your corset united with Adam’s mask, he turned you around and hoisted you up into his arms. You squeaked, the bed creaking loudly with your combined weight. His robes came off with a snap of his fingers, but your panties? Oh, he relished in pulling those aside himself. Slowly, his cock pushed past your folds, two fingers affectionately rubbing at your clit while his mouth latched onto your nipple and suckled. Adam was going to convince you, alright.

[trendywaifus]

SCREAMPIED !

— there seems to be a second serial killer who has their eyes on you. but it seems like they came for you for a different reason. will they be a failure like the last one was? ↳ INSPIRED BY SCARY MOVIE.

a/n — ngl i put more thought to this than the last one so think of this as the better sequel. it’s long btw.

part one

↳featuring ghost face! transfem! feixiao x fem! reader

GENRE — THRILLER, COMEDY, FORCED ROMANCE

WARNINGS — 2000’s COLLEGE AU, UNPROTECTED SEX, ORAL FIXIATION, CUNNINGLIUS, CREAMPIE, CURSING, TEASING, SLIGHT KNIFE PLAY, SIZE KINK, PENTRATION, VAGINAL PENETRATION, MIND DUMBFICATION, POSSESSIVE FEIXIAO

“ it seems like events are repeating theirselves once again as there’s been another murder, not one, but two this time, “ the blonde newsreporter stood in front of your college campus in the middle of the night as she emphasizes her words, “ that’s right folks you heard me, two murders happened right on this campus yesterday night involving a twenty–five old male, caelus and a twenty—four year old, dan heng. “

previously leaning back into the sofa, utterly bored out of your mind, you hastily scoot your butt to the edge of the cushion, jaw slacking in shock. “ oh my god? dan heng and caelus? what the fuck, why? how? “ you didn’t know the two very well but they were very popular around the college. caelus was an average jockey who was apart of the football team and dan heng was the quiet boy you’ll mostly see at the back of a classroom or in a library. the only reason why they was so popular is because they were seen with each other a lot—well it was mostly because of caelus following dan heng around like a puppy. they fit the stereotypical quiet boy and jock boy romance bullshit. it was cute as fuck but god it felt like you were a background character witnessing a yaoi manga in real time.

the news reporter walks around the half empty campus, looking for poor college students to interview. since it was halloween night, there was a good amount of people hanging around the campus in halloween costumes. “ i’m sorry, young man—i mean young lady, do you have a second?” the lady walks up to a person and the camera panels to a tall, grey-haired woman wearing a baggy tracksuit who strikes a strong sense of familiarity in you. her sun colored eyes glances between the camera and the news reporter in confusion. their voices blur in your ears as your pensive gaze lingers on the familiar woman currently on camera. your mind flashes back to last halloween where you fucked the shit out of a dumbass killer who broke into your house and looked just like her. “ am i genuinely tripping right now or is this who i think it is? “ you blink several times at the screen, “ is she at the same fucking campus i’m going to?! how in the fuck have i not seen her until conveniently now? bullshit. “

her soft voice rings through the mic, “ caelus was my brother and— “

you let out a string of curses, snatching the remote from the table and angrily changed the channel to some shitty slasher movie. “ she’s caelus’s sis? and a hot one at that. ugh, that makes so much sense because they look like twins. i knew she looked familiar when i unmasked her. i bet she’s the one who did it. maybe i should snitch—wait, since i knew about her and fucked her, would i get arrested for swallowing and letting her nut in me? what would i call that? guilty by fucking. .?”

actually. . .you changed your mind. if she does it again next halloween that’s when you’ll report her. yeeah. but then again, why would she even kill her own brother and his boyfriend? that’s some fucked up sibling beef. but you know one thing, she better not try and fuck with you again—

ring ring !

“ son of a. . .” you reach for your house phone on the table beside the sofa and bring the phone to your ear. “ hello? “ you hold your breath as you wait for the person the other line to speak.

“ . . .hi, (name)? “ your friend’s high-pitched voice, march, comes through the speaker. you let out the most heaviest sigh of relief.

“ good it’s you. march, question. .did you know that caelus had a sister? “ you inquire, leaning your body back into the soft cushion, idly watching the slasher chase his victim on tv.

“ umm, yeah? “ she replies back with a matter-of-fact tone. “ her name’s stelle, she’s apart of the girl’s varsity basketball team but you really only see her at the gym, track, and other athletic clubs. i think i have one core class with her but she’s really quiet and a little weird. let’s just say she’s the total opposite of caelus in terms of popularity and personality. which is sad ‘cus she’s such a hottie too. . “ well, stelle sure wasn’t the total opposite with you. “ by the way, you heard about caelus and dan heng right? i’m genuinely shocked that they got shanked! they were so good together—maybe the killer is a homophobe?”

“ march, don’t start. “ you groaned, running a lazy hand through your hair. march loves to gossip and gets wild with her speculations at times. though, they are pretty entertaining as the rumors she tells you about from being apart of the cheerleading team and photography club.

“ hear me out! last year there was multiple murders in our town but only two of them were students from our campus. the snazzy guy, aventurine who liked to make crazy bets to earn money and sunday, the student council and robin’s brother. “

“ um, so? “

march sighs, “ there was rumors that aventurine messed around with vertus ratio in y’know, that way so people were speculating that they had a thing. sunday was also caught with adventurine during— “

you cut her off, “ march, i don’t know if anyone told you this but like, half of the men here are into hot dogs. like, they’d definitely have a huge sausage party if all of them were to get together. so, the killer wouldn’t be homophobic if over half of the men at our college likes ding-a-lings. “

“ ughhh, these killings seem pretty targeted if you ask me. but i have to go, i need to go through my camera. i took some photos of cool costumes people was wearing. i’ll talk to you tomorrow bestie, bye~ “ she ends the call and you set the phone back down where it belongs.

you sit there in silence, spacing out. the whole situation is pretty weird and the fact that you were previously targeted counters march’s claims. to you, the killings were just random and unhinged like stelle. you just don’t know understand how someone goofy as her can possibly be responsible for the murders. who gives a shit though, you’ll just fuck stelle and pretend the whole thing is a porno if she comes back to try again.

ringgggg !

your shoulders slack in annoyance and you reach for the buzzing phone again. “ hello? it’s getting late, call me tomorrow—“

a muffled, raspy voice interrupts you, “ what’s your scary movie, doll face? “

you let out a sigh, not an ounce of fear invoked in your heart. you’re not scared this time from already experiencing this. “ oh, so you came back for more, stelle? i just saw you on the news. “ a snort leaves your smirking lips. “ are you actually going to kill me this time? “ the mysterious voice laughs with mirth, and somehow it sounds different from before.

“ this is not stelle. you scared her away, which i’m impressed about. but i’m not here to kill you baby, oh no, “ their voice lowers a pitch as they rasp, “ i was hoping to get my hands on your pretty ass, ‘been wanting you for a long time now. shoulda’ been me who got fucked instead of her. now to start things off, why not answer my question— “

“ oh, so i attracted another one. fuckin’ great. didn’t see that one coming. “ you say sarcastically, hanging up the phone right in that weirdo’s face. “ like damn, my pussy gotta be a magnet now if another one is stalking me. they gotta have some skype slasher group chat going on. .“ it hasn’t even been five minutes and the phone goes off again. you smack your lips, picking up the phone once more.

“ yo. “

“ hanging up on me is pretty rude, pup. i’m trying to be patient for you and i’m generally an impatient person.— “

you roll your eyes, “ choke on a dick, jackass. “

“ hehe, you’re going to be choking on mines by tonight— “

“ don’t care, bucko. just because i fucked your friend doesn’t mean shit. i’m not going to answer your question either. if you want your dick blown, have that dumbass hottie friend of yours to do it. bye. “

you slammed the house phone down and got up from the couch. “ i’m going to wash my ass, fuck this shit.“

forgotten about the shitty horror movie playing in the background, you left the living room and made your ways towards the stairs to take a shower. oh, no, hopefully the big bad killer won’t secretly follow you upstairs and get you while you’re taking a shower. you roll your eyes with a dry laugh at the thought. “ cover for me, “ you pat the large piano that you somehow stationed at the top of the stairs, “ if not, i’m ripping out your keys like they’re damn press-on fingernails, okay? “ the piano responds back with hurried high notes as it slightly trembles. you don’t even know why your father has a piano in the house, neither you or him can play for shit. you really only say that you have a piano to score the magneta—haired babe who’s into classical music. what was her favorite song again? dramatic epiphany?

“ atta girl. “

you take your shower without any disturbance. well, your soap kept “slipping” from your hand so you had to bend down a few times to get it. (un)fortunately a dick didn’t magically appear and stick itself in you. steam spills into your bedroom as you walk out of the misty bathroom with a tank top and shorts on, drying your hair with a towel wrapped around your shoulders. as you made your way back downstairs, you lazily thanked the piano. “ thanks. i guess i’ll have to play with you sometime as a reward. “

you ignore the cheery high notes hitting your ears as you walk down the steps.

and as soon as you stepped inside of the living room, the phone rings again. you angrily picked up the house phone for the third time within two hours. you drape the towel over your shoulder as you plop down on the sofa. “ this is the third fucking time you called my damn phone! “ you barked, pausing the cheesy horror film you forgot was on while taking a “quick”one hour shower, “ take a hike you fuckin’ bum! and don’t even bother asking me about what my damn favorite scary movie is because i don’t have one! there! stelle was somehow less annoying than you are! “

nothing but heavy breathing can be heard on the other line and if you listen closely, you can hear wet sounds of skin slapping against skin. “ fucck, “ the killer’s voice groans out, “ keep yelling, i’m almost finished. .mm. .“

“ you got to be fucking kidding me. “ you mutter irritably, face crunching up with disgust.

“ you sound so sexy when you’re upset, i love it. ‘that’s just how i want my girl to be. “ they continue to speak in a strained voice, “ and i’m jealous that you keep mentioning that girl when i’m here. by the end of this night, you’ll be expecting me instead around every halloween~ “

“ fuck off, loser! “ you snarl through gritted teeth, “ what i’m expecting from you is to stop calling my phone and leave. me. alone.”

“ no, because i’m already here~ “

on cue, they casually pop out into the doorway of your kitchen with their own phone near their masked head, dressed in the similar ghoulish outfit like last halloween. their statue seems a bit taller or just as tall as stelle’s. you shoot up from the couch, the towel that was once on your shoulder falls to your feet. you clutch the house phone, ready to use it as a weapon. “ what the fuck? how did you get in here? “

chuckling lowly, they lean into the doorway, crossing their arms in a relaxed manner. “ you have a habit of leaving your back door open, a bad habit for such a pretty girl like you who’s constantly home alone. though, i’m not complaining. it made things easier for me~ “ they purred.

“ yeah? w-well, come at me! this ain’t my first rodeo, creep! “

“ and it certainly won’t be your last, baby. “ they remarked smoothly, stepping into the living room. heat simmers in your belly. damn, had they not been some weirdo, you would’ve of just let them have it and keep your panties as a trophy.

“ try me! “ you chucked the phone at the unwanted guest and sprinted towards the dining room. you can easily just loop in the kitchen, tire them out, and head toward upstairs for the piano. “ oh i will baby, all nighhht! “ they run after you, quick on their feet. you dash through the dining room and into the kitchen, hauling over to the rectangular counter conveniently at the middle of the kitchen. they let out a amused laugh as they realized your plan.

“ really, pup? you can’t possibly think you’re going to outwit me with this boring trick. c’mon, you don’t have to make it harder for us, i swear i won’t hurt ya!”

you take a hurried step to the side, they do the same. “ fuck you! “ you grab an apple from the fruit bowl and threw it at the other end of the counter. they easily dodge it and seize the chance to dash towards your end. you took off running to the other end and it repeats for a few minutes. you can tell they were getting frustrated from the way they would curse and slam their fist onto the marble surface whenever they fail to outsmart your loops.

“ damnit girl, it’s starting to get hot under this thing! as much as i want to play ring around the rosy with you, i can hardly move with this on! just be a good girl and come over here so i bend you over this counter!“ they growled impatiently, mirroring every step you take. you move to the left, they move to the left. you move to the right, they move to the right. “ fuck no, stupid bitch! “

they click their tongue with a plan in mind. “ if that’s how you want to play it, “ they bait you by acting like they’re running to your end and as soon as you sprint halfway to the other side, they quickly slide over the counter. you let out a troubled scream as the triumphant killer throws their arms around you and yank you into their solid body. “ gotcha baby~—hey, watch your damn elbow! “ they narrowly dodge your elbow jabbing at their head.

“ l-lemme go! “ you cried out, kicking and thrashing in their tight hold.

“ nah, not when you made me work for it, girlie. now, stop struggling orr. .” you feel something sharp pressed against your neck. they chuckle darkly in your ear.

“ ugh! oh no, you have a knife against my neck, i guess i have to follow whatever you say or some shit. ” you grumble sarcastically in defeat, relaxing in her arms.

“ hehe, that’s my girl. at least you know how to play your part as the main girl well, hm? “ they turn you around and back you up against the counter. your opposer towers over you, trailing their knife gently along your jaw and tap it under your chin. a pleased hum leaves them as they shamelessly admire your features. “ wow, “ they awe breathlessly, the cool metal gradually runs down your neck, “ now that i’m up close and personal, you look like a fine piece of work, baby. fuck, i’m jealous stelle got to you first—which is why i killed her brother and his butt buddy. she was only suppose to scare you. ”

“ wh-what the fuck? who the hell are you? “

they rip off the ghostface mask and your eyes pop open like you seen a bunch of aliens walking around in the streets with thongs on. once again, you’re face to face with a familiar woman. long white tresses flutters down her shoulders, large, foxian ears spring out and stand tall as she looks down at you with her mischievous, piercing cerulean hues. how the hell did she get everything to fit into that mask?

“ f-feixiao? you’re that team captain from the woman’s varsity basketball team! “

feixiao smirks down at you, teeth baring. “ surprise~”she croons, her voice sounding much clearer and distinct. she’s popular amongst the girls in the college, a huge fuckgirl who you avoid like the plague. yeah, she’s the whole package but you find her a cocky tryhard who thinks she’s humble. “ it honestly could of been anyone but you. “

she juts out her bottom lip in a playful pout, ears slightly flattened. you know she’s pretending like the jester she is. “ what, you don’t like me? i did nothing to you. “

you cross your arms with a curled brow. “ that’s true. you did nothing to me but you did do something to a whole bunch of other girls. “ feixiao laughs, then licks her lips as her roughish gaze lowers at your exposed cleavage then back up into your eyes. she presses herself into you, bringing her lips to the shell of your ear. you feel something hard against your thigh. what’s up with women having dicks?

“ you don’t like that, pretty girl? i can always stop for you if you become my main girl. “ the white haired woman nibbles at your lobe and kisses at the spot right under your ear. you unfold your arms to grip the bulky edges of the counter behind you as she peppers damp kisses down the column of your neck. “ how many girls have you told that to? “ you bite your lip, holding back a groan.

“ jus’ you baby, promise. “ feixiao mutters against your skin, rocking her steady hips into yours. her knife trails down your cleavage and you stiffen. she chuckles at your jumpy reaction, and dips her head down to lap at the hardening bud through your tank top with her eager tongue. a short groan exits from your parted lips. feixiao cup the underside of your clothed breast and attach her hungry mouth to the bud. she suckles and firmly tugs until her spit ruins the fabric of your tank top.

“ damn, you know what. . “ feixiao carelessly tosses the knife on the counter behind you, abruptly pulls away, and releases your breast to lift up her inky hooded robe with one hand while the other fumble downward to unzip her ripped black jeans. your wandering gaze takes a glimpse of her abs, which tastefully protrude through the tight fabric of a black top underneath. damn. “ on your knees. “ she commands, desperation tainting her proud voice. you begrudgingly do so, waiting for feixiao to pull out her dick.

“ oh. .my god. “ you gawk as she finally frees herself. yeah, she’s definitely packing—a least two inches bigger than stelle. it’s slightly curved to the left, and girthy. you swallowed thickly. you see why the girls flock to her. feixiao smiles smugly at your big doe eyes, “ that’s the reaction i’ve been wanting to see,”considerate, gloved fingers gently push back the tousled locks from your eyes and into a ponytail. “ be my lady and you’d get to see this damn near every night, fuck every halloween. “

the tip of her cock playfully pokes at your lips. “ tempting, but no. i still don’t like you, feixiao. “

feixiao pouts before sighing with defeat despite not feeling discouraged by your answer. “ fine. i’m still not giving up, i bet you’ll change your mind by the time i’m done with you. now open up. “

you comply and feixiao momentarily release the hold from your hair to slowly slides herself in your moist mouth. only half of her is in and yet she feels heavy on your tongue. “ mmmh. . “ she sucks in a sharp breath, taking a brief moment to adjust. “ ‘gonna go slow, baby. “ feixiao groans, slowly rolling her hips into your mouth. your pillowy lips enclose around her shaft and your hands rest on her thighs. her fat cockhead graze the back of your throat before retreating away.

“ you look so pretty on your knees like this—damn, i might cream in your mouth right now from just looking at you. . “

your brows knit together. is she actually serious right now? there’s no way you got the biggest fuckgirl in your college, who also revealed herself to be a murder, saying shit like this. this has to be some sick halloween fantasy written by a horny bum with failing romance in their life.

feixiao slightly speeds up her moving hips, edging herself more down your throat as she thrusts. she tips her head back, becoming tipsy to the addicting warmth and wetness of your mouth. your spit coats her thick shaft, leaving behind a sheen. “ no gagging so far? hehe, you’re doing so well, pretty. .” feixiao moans out shamelessly, biting her bottom lip to the filthy, drawn out squelching noises producing from your stuffed mouth.

she grips your ponytail a little tighter, “ actually, i change my mind—fuck. .i might lose it if i go at this pace. breathe through your nose now, baby. i promise i’ll be quick! “

you rolled your eyes and nod your head, relaxing your jaw. she blurts out a cheery yes! then adjusts her footing. just like how feixiao wanted, she starts rutting into your mouth. you force out series of guttural sounds, but you don’t yield from her deep thrusts. your constricting walls swallow in her needy cock, earning strings of curses and groans. “ just what i-i thought, your throat feels amazing. i-i can only imagine what she feels like. . “ she moans, repeatedly snapping her sloppy hips into your mouth.

she? oh god, did feixiao really just refer to your pussy as a she? was this some sort of fuck girl slang?

beads of spit seep from the corners of your filled mouth and trickle down your chin like drool. your fingers slightly dig into her black pants as your gag reflex kicks in. feixiao pulls back just enough so her length lays heavy on your tongue, eagerly waiting to continue. “ i’m already half way there, hang in there.” she assures with unusual softness in her quivering voice, “ tap me once so i can keep going. “

and you do so, patting her thigh once. she starts again, shoving her cock back down your throat. your throat tightens on reflex and she whines, twitching. “ damn girl, now i’ll be almost there if you do that a—ohhhh. . “ feixiao grits her teeth, lolling her head down as you voluntarily close your walls around her. she feels stuck but stubbornly keeps thrusting, fucking your tight throat until she’s on the verge of cumming. “ th-the best—y-you’re the best. .sh-shit,”squeezing her eyes shut, sweat drips down to the tip of her nose,” i swear i wouldn’t n-need to talk and fuck any other girls if i had you. “ feixiao babbles, the cockiness in her voice is completely replaced with spiraling desperation.

the white–haired woman thrusts again and again, and stops suddenly as her fat, twitching cock fully squeezes through your throat. “ ‘gonna cum, b-baby. .” she holds your head still and thick, syrupy ropes shoots down your throat. heavy exhales escape from your nose while you swallow most of her load. “ good fuckin’ girl. . “ feixiao praises through a passionate whisper, and pulls away completely once you start to gag and choke. thank god for practicing your oral skills with your toothbrush routinely every morning and night or you would of left a colorful mess all over her dick. it’d be like one of those mainstream japanese shows where it shows the character vomiting. narudo z was it?

the bitter taste of her cum lingers on your tongue. it takes a minute for feixiao to stablize her breathing as she steadies herself on the counter. with a sigh, she stands upright and looks down at you with an easy smile. “ i’m not done with you yet. get up and gimme some sugar, yeah? “ she firmly pulls you up by the forearm, forcing you on your feet. feixiao hold your jaw between her thumb and index finger and maneuvers your head up at her. you cringe as her glowing ocean blue eyes bleed into yours. did they get brighter or some shit? you swear it wasn’t like that before.

she notices the squinty eyes and uncomfortable expression sitting on your face. “ what’s wrong, pup?”

“ it’s like i’m looking at a fucking blue glow stick in the dark. i see why people look the other way when they talk to you. “

feixiao pouts again, genuinely looking offended. “ okay, ouch? i can’t help the way my eyes are! i actually take pride in them. “

“ how unfortunate. imagine how awkward the sex would be if we do it missionary? if i can’t look you in the eyes while we fuck because of the risk of going blind, then that’s a hard pass for me. “ as if being a seasonal killer wasn’t already a hard pass.

“ haah? “ feixiao’s eyes go wide with surprise, “ don’t be like that! we can always work around that, i can have you on your stomach while i—“

“ i don’t want to hear it. just shut up and close your eyes before you kiss me. “

she grumps, complying with your demand. her disappointment almost instantaneously disappears by the soft caress of your perfect lips. feixiao’s tongue prod at the small opening between your lips and you allow her in with ease. a low moan resonates in her chest as the bitter taste of her seed in your mouth welcomes her senses. her tongue feverishly swirls around yours. she doesn’t care if the kiss is sloppy, she doesn’t care about her teeth occasionally clashing with yours—the only thing that’s on her mind right now is you, you, you.

once your chest start get to tight from the lack of oxygen, you lightly push feixiao away from your spit-coated lips by her biceps. even through the robe, you can feel the curled, firm muscle. string-like saliva stretch and dissipate between you and her. there’s carnal desire in her sky blue eyes as she peers down at you. “ my mouth and throst is feeling kinda dry right now, “ she whispers, gloved fingers unbuttoning your pajama shorts, “ how about you let me return the favor while i hyd–“

“ just eat me out. you already broken into my home and chased me and shit. “

feixiao laughs, sounding almost sheepish. “ i have no regrets doing it either, y’know. i also have no worries you’ll tell anyone too since that girl is still walking around scott free. “ well yeah, if you do tell, ‘pretty sure you’ll get fucking arrested too. she drops to her knees once she slides your shorts and ruined panties down to your ankles. the taller woman whistles with delight at the appetizing sight of your dripping pussy.

“ damn baby, did i get you this wet? “ her mouth salivates from watching your arousal slowly roll down your inner thigh.

“ no i just thought about killing myself. “

she raises a brow at you, spreading your legs out an inch wider. “ you dislike me so much that you’ll use that as your lie? “

“ yup. “

feixiao tsk, spreading your puffy folds with two fingers. “ my stubborn girl. even if i couldn’t get you to warm up to me so easily, at least she did. “ she laps up the trail and her eyes flutters at the delicious taste. without warning, she buries her face between your legs and give your bundle of nerves a spoiling amount of messy kisses. her tongue broadly licks at your soaked folds, collecting your sticky essence on her tongue. “ fuck.” you curse in a breathy voice, one of feixiao’s pierced fox ears twitch. she sloppily circles her tongue around your clit before sucking on it. feixiao sucks hard, causing your toes to curl.

feixiao grows hard again to the sounds of your labored breathing and shaky mewls. she drag her tongue to your fluttering entrance and acts as if she’s making out with you as her tongue teases your dripping hole. “ oh my god. . “ your hand flies down to grip her surprisingly soft locks. the thick tip of her tongue rushes a sloppy stripe back up your pussy. she kisses at the sweet spots that makes your knees visibly tremor. feixiao smiles smugly into your cunt, returning down to your drooling slit. she laps and obnoxiously slurps at the thick fluids dribbling out of you. her ministrations last for a few minutes until you become jumpy and sensitive.

“ best drink i had in a while, baby. mmhh. .” she mutters through hot breaths, sneaking a hand under her robe to stroke herself. she’s beyond excited—growing utterly impatient to fuck you dumb and reshape your insides into her home. no matter what insult you throw at her, how much you claim to dislike her; she’s not letting you go. you’re too good to let go. after all, she did kill for you. you droop your head to the side, a broken moan ripping itself from your raw throat as her tongue pushes inside. “ f-feixiao, fuckk—i. .” you stop yourself, swallowing back the words that’s threatening to spill from your glistening lips. feixiao lets out a strained sound similar to a moan and fists her cock until it’s angry red and swollen. you moan again at the vibration shooting through your heated body and fondle your breast with a clumsy palm. you pinch at the hardened nipple through your tank-top between slender fingers.

feixiao’s practically tongue fucking you, albeit hastily. your gummy walls squeeze her slimy muscle as you grind on her tongue. you’re becoming light-headed, hazy from the swelling pleasure clogging up your mind and body. “ feixiao, i-i want you—“ you blurt out impulsively. at this point, you just want to get fucked into oblivion, “ pl-please fuck me with your cock, your tongue i-isn’t enough. .”

she doesn’t waste a second to rip herself away from your pussy, not caring about the lower half of her face stained with your juices, and rushes up to her feet. she briefly steps back to remove the annoying robe from over her head and throws it aside on the floor. you finally get to see what she’s fully wearing under and it took every ounce of your being to not fall for her. a tight-fitted sleeveless turtneck top that shows off her athletic structure, sculpted milky arms, broad shoulders, fairly supple tits—shit! no matter what, you have to remind yourself that she’s a serial killer and a fuckgirl. she’s just a good fuck to finish off your eventful halloween night. “ anything you want, my pretty girl. jump. i’ll catch you.” you hurriedly step out of your shorts and undergarments pooling at your feet. with two hands clamped onto feixiao’s broad shoulders, you hop into her solid arms, wrapping your shaky legs around her waist. she secures you in her embrace, “ screw bending you over, i like this position better.” she comments, hoisting you up by the fat of your ass.

quickly, feixiao lines herself up with your throbbing pussy and guides you downward. you moan loudly as her girthy length fills up your empty pussy, stretching you out until you’re rubbing against her ripped jeans.“ nnghh. .s’tight, baby—damn, you’re so mine.” she growls possessively in your ear. you want to deny her but you can’t. the way she’s building up her momentum, jerking her hips sharply into your hole has you whimpering pathetically.

squuuish! slooosh! squuuish!

your slippery walls make it easier for her to go deeper and faster. you helplessly cling onto her for dear life, tangling your fingers into rivers of white tresses. it’s been a while since you been fucked good like this—the type of fuck that has you seeing constellations, drooling like a baby, and your mind made into someone’s home. “ m-more fei—fuck, moreeeee~” you babbled, bouncing on her fat cock without a care in the world. your slick smears the stiff fabric of her jeans and globs of it spill onto the tile floor. although strained, feixiao’s laugh rings through your ears. “ haha, fei? it looks like you’re g-giving into me~” she sing-songs, pounding your pussy with quick pistons of her ruthless hips.

feixiao’s curved shaft deliciously rub against your sweet spots, the swollen cockhead smack against your g-spot. you nearly scream as she rams right into it, “ yes! r-right there, pleasee, pleaseee! “ you’re sobbing, begging for a sweet release you’ve desperately been craving. she gives you a few lingering wet kisses on your hot cheek while she fucks you. “ you know i gotcha, my baby—hnngh. .! “

your pussy grips her cock like its afraid she’ll pull out and leave it empty. feixiao’s hips starts to stutter but she still keeps going on. you smash your lips against hers, kissing her sloppily and she gladly reciprocates back. your tongues twirl together, hot breaths combining into one.

“ mmph. . ! ❤︎ “

feixiao grinds her clumsy hips into the plush of your ass in a circular rotation, rubbing her twitching cock along your pulsating walls. a frothy ring forms near the base of her member that’s created by your slick and essence. you greedily suck on her tongue, tasting more of yourself. a guttural moan rumbles in her throat and she squeezes your ass. “ i never knew my girl was a freak. .” she breathes after you pulled away to moan.

“ mm, i-i’m not your girl. “ you slurred.

she chases after you and gently pull at your bottom with her fanged teeth. “ like hell you’re not. you already got me more in love, you think–mmh, after all of this i’d leave you alone? haha, no. shit. .i’m about to cum, sweetness. “

before you can say argue back, she thrusts hard into you one last time, forcibly provoking a surprised scream and an eye rolling orgasm from you. you and feixiao cum together in sync. “ t-take it all, baby~” she purrs, spurting her hot seed deep inside of you, painting your walls the color of her hair. you cling onto her, cumming violently on her dick. mixed, syrupy cum spills from your seeping hole and adds onto the growing puddle on the floor. foamy bubbles produce as she dumps the rest of her load into you. “ ‘full—i feel s’full, feixiao. . “ you whimper, shifting uncomfortably in her arms as a ball of hotness circulates in the pits of your stomach.

“ i know, pup. let’s stay like this for a little bit, i wanna hold my girl for a little while longer. “

you weakly smack your lips as she refers to you as her girl for the umpteenth time tonight.

“ wh-what did i tell you about—whatever makes you sleep better at night. .” you grumble, resting your chin on her broad shoulder while coming down from your high.

“ i’ll sleep even better now knowing that you’re mine~” you deeply frown at the smile in her smug voice.

fuck, what have you done? not only did you fuck two serial killers, but you have one of them on your ass.

please don’t make a continuation of this, i actually don’t want to end up in some threesome next year. thanks dumbass.

[toytle]

happy birthday barry, hope this one doesn’t give you war flashbacks 🎉

redraw + remix of Flash: Rebirth vol. 4

[ID in alt text + below cut]

Fanart comic of Barry Allen’s birthday, page 1: Barry is rigid in shock as Iris pushes him towards his surprise birthday party. Along the side are panels of each guest wishing him a happy birthday as bloodied flashbacks play behind them of the moments when Eobard Thawne had murdered them.

Page 2: Panel 1 is a close up shot of Barry with a horrified expression, beset by a red background reminiscent of the bloodied flashbacks. He manages to get out the words: “Thanks… everybody….” Panel 2 is Barry walking away from the guests, touching his face in distress. He says, “Sorry. I’m really glad to see everyone… I just… Just gimme a minute….” One of the guests behind him suggests, “Maybe he’s a little shellshocked?” The red background continues to swarm him. Panel 3 is a closeup of Barry’s face as an off-screen voice says, “Hey, buddy….” His fingers slowly slide off his face as he looks up in its direction.

Page 3: Panel 1 reveals Hal Jordan holding a box and wearing a smile. He says, “Looks like I’m right on time.” The red swarm surrounding Barry doesn’t seem to touch Hal. Panel 2 is Hal handing Barry the box, which contains a model plane, as he says, “Happy birthday, Barry.” Barry takes it in his hands with a worn but blank expression. Panel 3 is much the same with Barry unmoving as he’s processing the exchange. Panel 4 is Barry suddenly giving Hal a fond, sarcastic smile as he says, “Great gift, Hal. I especially liked it when I gave it to you for your birthday two years ago.” The red swarm gradually dissipates from each panel, clearing up entirely in the last one.

Page 4: Simplified doodles of Hal and Barry stand in the large, empty space of the page. Hal has one hand in his pocket and the other gesturing in explanation. His expression is embarrassed but good-humored as he says, “Really? You sure? Uh… Haven’t been home in a long time, so….” Barry responds, “Too long… I’m just happy to see you, buddy.” He holds the gift close to himself with an innocent, close-eyed smile. An arrow points to him, reading: Literally snapped out of it to be a little shit. /end ID

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Maybanks sister

part 4, chapter 1- let’s do this shit!

summary: after el dorado, your lives are finally getting back to normal. However, someone’s still missing from your life. After a long week, a run in with that someone is the last thing you needed.

a/n: ahhh! Finally some rafe and reader moments lol. they’re a bit in a pining but not talking stage right now. They’re gonna get to talk soon, don’t worry.

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“-98.5%… gold.”

“And that translates to?”

“This is money. A whole lot of money.”

With a smile on his face and everyone else cheering, John B leaned over the table to shake the man’s hand.

You guys went straight to the gas station, with the nearest atm machine being inside.

“Moment of truth.” John B murmured, all of you crowding around the atm.

“Pin is 0-0-0-0… enter.” John B said, entering his pin into the machine.

“You’re kidding.” Sarah had to suppress a laugh.

“Tell me that’s a temporary pin.” You snorted, John B turning to look at you now.

“I thought nobody could guess-“

“You need to change that immediately, dude.” You told him with a loud laugh.

“I’m sorry-“ he turned his head back to the machine when it started to make noise, signaling it was ready.

“Here it comes.”

As soon as the paper came out, JJ reached for it before him and John B fought over it. “That’s me, that’s me,” he said, “let me read it!”

“It’s not even the money, it’s just the receipt!”

You rolled your eyes at the boys, John B winning in the end, opening and pulling it open.

“Okay, okay,” John B said, reading it. “Our joint account balance…”

“Mhm..”

He took a pause, before Cleo told him to get on with it, everyone impatient.

“Our joint account balance is… one point one million… seventy two thousand, five hundred and forty nine dollars.”

“You said mil?”

“Million?” You and pope asked at the same time.

“Um…” John B said, everyone processing just how much money that was.

“That’ll do it!”

He nodded in agreement, everyone cheering and celebrating, being unable to even comprehend just how much that was.

“Holy shit…” you spoke, you laughing to yourself, Sarah laughing with you.

“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen on a piece of paper.” Pope said, you smiling and talking to Cleo.

JJ went over to the cooler, taking a beer out and downing it. Kiara glanced over at him, noticing his distance from everyone.

She walked over to him, “You can smile, you know.” She told him, leaning against the cooler.

He sighed, staring at her.

“Look, this doesn’t mean we’re kooks. Just means we have a little money now.”

“Okay, okay, wait, wait, wait, wait… hear me out. Really truck with yellow LEDS to replace the Twinkie for now.”

“That is by far one of the dumbest ideas I’ve heard from you.” You told your brother, rolling your eyes at him.

“I’m not getting rid of the Twinkie.” John B shook his head.

“But with solar panels… maybe. If it’s in the budget.” Kiara suggested, tilting her head to the side.

“And a bigger boat.”

“Guys, hold on. Hold on. It’s… it’s not like we can all go off and buy houses or anything. I mean split between all of us, that’s about 167,507 dollars. Minus what we owe barracuda Mike.”

“Let him try and come take this. I’ll mess him up.”

“I’ll mess him up for my damn leg.” You agreed.

“I’m just gonna say it. I don’t wanna piss off the drug dealer.”

“Listen, if we divide this up, we’re all gonna blow it.” Pope said, everyone turning their heads to Jj the moment he said that.

“Wow, okay. Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“It’s kind of obvious.” You retorted.

“-But maybe if we pool our money together, we can create something with actual economies of scale.”

“Like what?” Kiara asked him.

“You remember the island.”

“Duh.”

“Of course.” Kiara shrugged.

“I mean, it was our own island, and we built everything from basically nothing, right?”

“It was perfect.” Kiara said.

“The best life.” Cleo nodded.

“That whole island just to ourselves. All of us together.”

“It was nice..” you nodded in agreement with them all.

“I think we can have that again. Right here. I mean, Y/n’s and JJ’s property is going up for auction, right? So let’s buy it back. I mean, look around. A lot of land. Deep water access…” he motioned to the water behind him. “unless any of you are planning on going back to school, we’re gonna need a place to work, a place to stay and live. I think we can have both of those things here.”

“Well, it’s a nice idea, but I mean, we’d have to get the land first.” You told pope, he nodded.

“Then we could build like, a.. surf shop. And then maybe we can make our own dock.”

“This place does need a dock.” You nodded, smiling at the image.

“Ooh, what about like a bait and tackle shop?” John B suggested.

“Yeah,”

“Exactly. And… and who knows these waters better than us?”

“Nobody.” You replied.

“JJ, y/n, you guys can get a new boat and run a fishing charter. We can all live and sleep in the house-“

“Just a small warning, if this works, I am not picking up after you little shits.” You told them all, specifically staring right at Jj.

“Hey! Why are you looking at me? I’m not the one who-“

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around him and ruffling his hair like you would do when you were kids.

“Because we all know how messy you are.”

“I’m not messy-“

“You most definitely are, yeah.” Sarah retorted, him huffing and shoving you off of him while the rest of you laughed.

Before the auction, you went up to Jj, pulling him to the side.

“What?” He asked you, glancing at his friends in front of you all.

“Hey, I know how you’re feeling about the house and shit, but please, don’t do some stupid shit?”

“Don’t worry, sis. We’ll get the house back easy.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, jay.”

“I’m not gonna… do some stupid shit, alright? Trust me. I got this.” He held his hand up.

You sighed, he did not have this.

“Here’s the plan. We go up in one-dollar increments, all right? It’s gonna take a while, but we’re gonna need to save every cent we have for construction.”

“Popes on point, JJ. Got it?”

JJ let a hum, although he hesitated.

“Don’t change the plan.” Pope stared at the pair of you and your brother, you looking offended.

“Hey, don’t look at me, look at this idiot.” You poked your finger into JJs head, him rolling his eyes at you.

Everyone turned to the auctioneer, him pointing to the picture of your dad’s property.

Honestly, you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if you didn’t get the house. You grew up in that house, and while you may have a lot of bad memories in those walls, you loved it the same. It was like you could still hear the laughter of you and JJ as kids echoing off the walls.

It was a part of you at this point.

And you knew Jj felt the same way, you could tell it in his eyes.

“-The foreclosure sale of 14 Roger’s point road. Now, this is the old Maybank place.”

“You know, uh, the cuts gonna be figure 8 in a few years. You walk away now, you won’t have to scurry off with your tail between your legs… and I’ll, uh, give you a little taste on the back end.” he spoke to you lowly, you staring at the man in disbelief.

“You’re gonna be dead before that happens.” You told the man, annoyed at what he had just said.

He stared at you with raised eyebrows through his glasses.

“Hey, Dale, was it?” JJ pushed you to the side, standing in front of the man now.

“That’s correct.”

“It’s not happening, hoss.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s play ball.”

You stared at Pope, already knowing what would go down.

“150 bid, bidder with 200, I’ve got 200…”

…

“I’ve got 775,000 bid,”

“This is way over our price range.” Pope told John B.

“Will you make him stop, please?” Sarah asked him:

“Get him out of here.”

John B went over to JJ, who you’ve already attempted to stop multiple times.

“Hey, please, it’s too much.”

“Just let me handle this. I’ve got it.. dude, I’ve got it!” He fought John b off of him, “775,010, right here, sir.” Jj shouted.

“775,010 to the gentleman in red.”

“Oh my god!” Pope groaned.

You sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance. Your brother was dumb to be paying that much, but you knew, deep down, you knew why he did. No one else would understand, but you would.

“That’s too rich for my blood, Rog.” Zeasy spoke, John B and Jj staring at each other.

“775,010 bidder, looking for 8…”

The auctioneer continued on, “going once, going twice, sold right here to the gentleman in red. Congratulations.”

Everyone in the group groaned, Jj turning back to Zeasy, holding his hand out.

“The most expensive property in the cut, and it’s not worth it.” He chuckled.

“Well, it is to us, sir. Now, if you can scurry off to your side of the island, and stay there, that’d be appreciated.” He waved his hand, wrapping his arms around John B.

“I get shit done. We got it. That’s all that matters. Whoo! All right.”

“What an idiot.” You murmured to yourself.

“33% above market value. Wildly overpaid. Thats like all the money.” Pope told John b, before walking past him.

You stared at JJ, him looking back at you.

“What?” He asked, you shaking your head at him.

“Well, would you like to do the honors or should I?” You asked your brother, both of you standing in front of the caution taped door.

He shrugged, his hands going to the ends and beginning to rip it off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I christen thee Poguelandia 2.0.” He spoke, holding the ripped up caution tape in both hands before throwing it.

You stared at him, ripping off the remaining tape.

“Let’s turn this piece of shit into our home.” You told him with a small smile.

“Let’s do it.”

He smiled back, both of you doing your usual handshake, before he opened the door and saluted to the rest of the group.

“We’re home, y’all.”

Construction on the house was the hard part of it all, everything you guys had bought and used had been as cheap as possible, even using old wood from your dad’s old shed.

And finally, after months of construction, you all felt like you had finally perfected it. JJ had his own charter, everything had been feeling normal. Better than normal.

JJ put the sign down at the dock, a proud smile on his face as he stared at everything you all had accomplished.

“Think we’re about done.” You told John B, both of you nodding and smiling, doing a handshake of your own.

“Hey, guys!” JJ called from down the dock, his hat in his hands. “I think we did it.”

“Hell yeah we did!” You shouted back.

“We’re in business baby! Wow!” He shouted, you and John B laughing at his antics. “Oh my gosh, this feels good!” He pumped his fist in the air, and this was the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him.

Everyone watched with a smile on their faces, watching him cheer on and celebrate.

“That boys mad.” Cleo laughed, you nodding in agreement.

He got on the boat, “Captain Maybank at your service! Now that has a ring to it! Nothing can stop a pogue. Nothing!”

All of you laughed, watching him jump off and onto the dock.

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout!”

“Yeah!” John B shouted.

“Is he okay?” Sarah laughed, Kiara watching him with a smile on her face.

“Yeah. Yeah. He just never really had a home. He’s happy.”

You listened to the girls conversation, finding yourself smiling at it.

He began to dance, talking wildly to himself.

“Slow down, you’re killing ‘em!”

“Twinkle toes, all right!”

Kiara laughed, walking down to the dock, “having fun?” She asked him.

“A little bit.”

“Yeah?”

“What?” He asked, her staring at him with a wide smile on her face.

“I love you.”

He got closer to her, both of their lips crashing into each others.

You whistled at them, John B howling while Sarah laughed.

“We did it.” JJ pressed his forehead against hers, her arms wrapped around his body.

“We did. Somehow.”

“But we did it. We did it!”

That day was one that you swore you’d never forget, seeing him happy like that, that was all you wanted in your life.

Yet, intertwined with the moments of joy, there was a bittersweet ache in your heart. Thoughts of him, of Rafe, drifted through your mind.

It’s been almost two years, and you were still in love with him.

You couldn't shake the memories, the way his laughter would echo in your ears, the warmth of his presence that seemed to haunt your every thought.

A sense of longing wrapped around you, refusing to let go, painting your happiness with unfulfilled desire.

It was as if you could still imagine him looking at you, a small but soft smile on his face.

You knew he wouldn’t want to talk to you, he probably wouldn’t want to even see you.

He probably hated you now, you thought. After you told him about his dad, maybe he didn’t want to see you at all.

Unfortunately, a large thunderstorm the night before had knocked out the power, causing the live bait to pass away, everything ruined.

“What’s the damage, pope?” JJ asked him, pope sighing.

“Fuse box is busted. Without the live bait, the fishermen won’t come, and there goes half of our business right there. We have enough profit to cover it, but barely, just barely. All right?”

Pope walked over to a jar, pulling it down from the cabinet it was in. “This is it.” He pulled out a smaller jar of gold. “The last of our AU.”

“Uh, what?”

“What?”

“English, please.” You snickered.

“Gold. It’s the periodic symbol for gold.” He told you all, as if it was obvious.

“Why not just say gold?” You asked him

“Because it doesn’t matter, all right? This is all of our savings, and it’s a no-go. This is for property taxes. So,” he set the jar of gold on the table, “we’re gonna have to tighten up…”

“Which means no more 600 dollars in gas chasing tarpon up the gulf.”

“Pope, that’s our job-“ JJ started.

“Yeah!” you agreed.

“We were chasing a bait board-“

“No more 200 dollars in heirloom tomato seeds.” Pope continued, pointing at Kiara.

Everyone began to talk over each other, arguing over it.

“What about my imported peppers?”

“Peppers gotta go too, baby.”

“We need to run the charters!

“It’s not the tomato’s fault!”

“No, hey, guys! If the business starts failing, the sharks start circling. All right?” Everyone stopped arguing.

“And we don’t even know if your dad is coming back.”

“He’s got balls if he shows his damn face around here.” You glared at Pope.

“And it’s not even his anymore.” JJ chimed in, hitting his hand against the table he was leaning on.

“It doesn’t matter. What’s he gonna think when he sees all this?”

“He’s not gonna see it.” You spat, Pope sighed, ignoring your comment before continuing.

“Listen, if we want to save this place, we skinny up until the business gets afloat again. Okay?” Pope said, leaving the shack.

JJ glanced at the gold that Pope had left on the table, an idea popping up in his mind.

The enduro. A dumbass bike race where people place their bets on, mostly kook kids who have nothing better to do with it. It was also where your brother went to try his luck each year.

“What a fantastic day we got for racing today. You guys ready to burn some gas?”

People cheered, raising their cups and watching as everyone started practicing, their bikes throwing sand on the viewers.

“The race is kicking off soon, so make sure you get your bets in. And then wave your flag, you know what I’m saying?”

JJ stood there, gas being pumped into his bike. He glanced over to the bike next to him, where Topper sat with a smug face, nodding at JJ. Jj shook his head, turning away from the boy.

John B walked over to JJ, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go baby! How we feeling today, champ?”

“Like I got this whole shot.”

“Yeah? Yeah?”

“I’m gonna win it this year. I know I am.”

“Yeah, you are.”

JJ turned to look at Cleo, “Cleo, how we doing, girl?”

“Everything’s all good, man.”

“Great.”

“The girl, out.”

“All right.” He raised his hand up, both of their hands meeting as they did a handshake.

“Hey! Bring it home, little boy.” She smiled at him.

“You know I will.”

John B smiled at him, grabbing his face. “You got this. All right?”

“I know.”

“Yeah, good luck.” John B said, beginning to walk away before JJ called his name.

“Hey, hold on one sec. Hold on.”

John B turned around, Jj walking up to him again.

“Where’d you park your bike?”

“Right there. Why?” He pointed, jj staring at him, hesitating.

“Gotta tell you something before we start.”

“Oh boy, JJ, what’s going on?”

“No, it’s really not that bad.” JJ replied, although John B did not believe him.

“Go on, then. Tell me, what’s up?”

“Like, literally you’re gonna be thanking me after. Okay? So… you know, I… I bet on me. To win.”

John B turned his head, pursing his lips together.

“I know, I know, funds are tight right now, but I feel good this year. So, I put in a bet on myself. Dude, the odds are like, seven to one!” He smiled, “with me on this thing, that’s like three to one.”

“Hold on, okay.”

“It’s free money.”

“Where did you get some extra money?”

“That’s what I’ve got to tell you. Um…” jj cleared his throat, “so, I went into the kitty and bet the last nug…. Now, before you say anything, I just gotta tell you-“

John B scoffed, backing away from JJ.

“Dude, listen, I got this, man.”

John B held his finger out, “JJ, JJ, just stop.” He walked over to JJ again, looking at him in disbelief. “Jj, are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious.”

“That was our last 20 grand. That was supposed to go to property taxes for poguelandia.”

“Bro, I know! Okay? I know. I know you’re about to hit me now. I can sense it.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Save it. Gotta commit at this point. I got it. You know I do. But it wouldn’t hurt to have a little backup on this one. You know what I’m saying?”

“You want me to ride?”

“Just cover me. All right? Just like old times in the backyard. You and me? We school these fools, and we save the farm. You know we can do this. Easy.”

Your heart dropped when your eyes spotted the familiar bike, along with those damn blue eyes. His eyes met yours for a moment, and it felt as if time stopped, as if everyone else was gone in that moment.

“Oh my fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, Pope raising an eyebrow at you, following your gaze.

Rafe stood there, a faint frown creasing his brow when he caught sight of you. A tight knot formed in his throat. He longed to close the distance between you two, to feel the warmth of your embrace or press his lips against yours again—anything to bridge th silence that had stretched between them.

It had been a year and a half since everything, yet his heart remained tethered to you. The weight of his lingering affection tormented him, and hehted how helpless he was.

He could see the tears begin to well up in your eyes, even from afar.

Topper was the one to snap him out of his daze, and Pope was the one to snap him out of yours.

Topper hit his shoulder, Rafe finally taking a breath when his eyes left yours.

“Dude, I told you, forget about her.”

“What? I wasn’t looking at her, dude.” Rafe lied, looking over at you, only to find you looking away again.

“Was he not here last year?” Pope asked you, you finally taking your eyes off of him.

“Yeah, he- he was, but I mean-it doesn’t matter, I gotta go. I can’t be here for this shit.” You held your hands up, your heart beat picking up and your palms beginning to get clammy.

“Just ignore him.“ Pope shrugged, you sighing, holding the back of your hands to your eyes, pressing on them.

You then realized, that he used to do the same thing. You put your hands down, glancing at Pope before speaking and turning around

“I’ll- I’ll be back.” You murmured, stumbling away from the crowd, leaning against a shed, taking deep breaths while trying to think about anything else.

“Shit, I need a drink.” You told yourself, taking one last deep breath before standing up and walking over to the nearest cooler, stealing a drink and downing the entire can in one go, before grabbing another.

You sighed when you walked up to Pope and Cleo, your eyes avoiding Rafe and instead looking at your brother and John B.

“Let’s do this shit, Jay!”

Taglist

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah @calmoistorm @ethanthequeefqueen @theoraekenslover @just-levyy @hallecarey1

[tteokdoroki]

hey aali fun fact 😀😀😀 did u know that face yuuta makes in that panel 😀😀 is also the face he makes when ur bouncing on his cock 🤪😀😀🤪🤪👉👈 (read: yuuta mostly holding u against him as he fucks up into u and hes not sure whether or not hes trying to keep u from humping him or if he wants u closer)

anyways he uses ur spit as lube 🤪💕

grips you real hard

yuuta with his bottom lip wobbling and his brows drawn to the centre of his forehead, he’s holding back tears and sweat is beading in crystal clear droplets against his hairline from the exertion. he didn’t mean to take over, not really, but he couldn’t help it — you just look so sweet trying to keep it together while you bounce on his cock, your sticky clit slapping against his pelvis and the light bush of his pubes as you cover him in your essence.

the way your lips twist into a pout and your warble and wail for him as you use every last ounce of your enters to drag your wet cunt up and down his curved shaft and over his sticky tip. all of it only turned yuuta on more, egged him on, pushed him to make a move and grab at your waist until he left fingerprints and use the strength in his arms to lift you up and down, up and down in tune with his weighty thrusts into your quivering heat.

he nearly loses his shit when your swimming gaze drops to where your bodies join and the pair of you become one. you drool, add to the squelch, and the force behind his pumping hips ramp up — causing the bed to creak and your eyes to roll back and a stream of curses to break free from yuuta’s usually angelic mouth.

“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry,” yuuta cries, lips latching onto your neck whilst his tongue rolls laps over your salty sweet skin. he uses his grip on you to circle your hips in his lap, moaning loud against your flesh. “c-can’t help it, i’m sorry.”

[azsazz]

Off Grid

Azriel x Reader [Formula One AU]

Summary: Ferrari has signed on rookie driver Dorian Havilliard. Azriel must learn to navigate the 2024 season with a new teammate and his secret relationship, with you, who just so happens to be the team’s media trainer.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,109

Notes: This one goes out to @moosemahboi for the ask this morning 😏 enjoy 😉 (idk why I can’t tag u but hopefully you see this)

Also, sorry if the formatting looks like shit I’m posting this from my phone. I busted this out so fast tho whoops

_________________________________________

“Azriel, how are you feeling knowing that Ferrari has signed young Dorian Havilliard for the 2024 season?” The reporter asks, sitting eagerly on the edge of his seat. He has his phone out, recording Azriel’s responses. The man has been hanging onto every word Azriel has said; him and the other thirty journalists eager to pester him, all cramped within the small room.

Beside him, Cassian snickers under his breath, all too obviously happy that he’s not the one who must suffer this torturous questioning. Azriel refrains from rolling his eyes at the absurdity of it all. Well, it’s not absurd but it feels like it because it’s been the only question anyone seems to care about right now, they no longer care to ask how the new chassis feels, what his thoughts are about the new Las Vegas race added to the schedule, how he’s projected to be one of the top drivers this season. Was supposed to be one of the top performing drivers of the season. Ever since Ferrari leaked that Dorian Havilliard is making his debut with the team for the first race, it’s been a feeding frenzy for the media, trying to be the first to glean insider information about the fresh meat.

“I think he’ll make a great addition to the team,” is all Azriel offers in response.

He’s hot and sweaty from practice and being blinded by flashes of cameras that don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon isn’t helping his mood in the slightest. It’s the part of his job that he despises the most. All Azriel wants to do is drive, because nothing feels as good as the adrenaline when he’s behind the wheel, but right now all he wants is to go home, not respond to million questions he’s already answered too many times before. And to be honest, he’s kind of pissed about Ferrari signing Dorian Havilliard and nixing Rowan Whitethorn, who has signed on to be McLaren’s first seat after Aedion Ashryver’s accident at the final race of the 2023 season that sent him into early retirement.

There’s a beat of silence, and when it’s clear he has nothing else to say about the matter, someone else pops up from their seat and another question is hurled his way. “And what about your former teammate, Rowan Whitethorn? How is he taking the news of losing his seat to Havilliard?”

The urge to roll his eyes into his fucking skull is so great he almost doesn’t stop it, but the last thing he needs is the team’s media trainer on his case about the appropriate ways to conduct himself during media panels, no matter how pretty she is.

They should be asking this question to Rowan or even Dorian, whenever he begins press for the upcoming season.

“Rowan understands,” he tries to hide the sour tone in his voice. Azriel and Rowan have been driving together for the past three seasons and it’s been one of the best experiences he’s had with a teammate in Formula 1. He knows the constructors are too worried about placing him on the same team as Rhysand or Cassian, who he grew up with at karting school. They’re like brothers and they act like it too, but if they were on the same team the rivalries would feel even more drastic than they already are. “He’s a good driver and talent like his isn’t going away anytime soon.”

Rowan’s new teammate, Hunt Athalar, nods from Azriel’s other side. He and Cassian seem to be enjoying not being pestered with surface-level questions, and Azriel wishes that he was feeling the same.

With a few more unnecessary queries about Dorian, press finally ends. He, Hunt, and Cassian are escorted from the room, the trail of flashes and conversation starting up clinging to his back as he walks.

“Fucking hell,” Azriel mutters to Cassian, who jabs him in the side with a snigger once they’re cleared the room, the door shutting with a loud click behind them. “I hate these interviews.”

“Don’t need to tell me that, mate,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and Azriel glares. “I’m pretty sure everyone can tell. Might want to learn to act like you like it, though. Ferrari won’t keep you if your attitude sucks. But I’m sure that media trainer of yours is about to hunt you down and tell you the same thing.”

Azriel frowns. He thought he’d done a pretty good job at deflecting the questions about his new teammate.

“People like me for me,” Azriel shrugs, defending himself. He’s never been a bullshitter, no matter how badly his team has wanted him to be. This is what the people get, 100% Azriel, take it or leave it. And Ferrari has decided to take it, for the last three seasons. The second half of his sentence is drowned out as Cassian’s snickering becomes full-bodied laughter. “And my trophies speak for themselves.” He doesn’t mean to come off as cocky, but he’d rather be authentically himself than a puppet to the media.

Cassian shakes his head, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corners of his eyes. “No, people like me for me,” he winks at Azriel’s glare. “They like you because you’re a decent driver.”

Azriel’s nose crinkles. “Decent? My car is projected to perform even better than Rhys’ this year!”

They three drivers turn down a hall, nodding to the two Haas drivers they pass: Bron and Hart.

“We’ll see, won’t we, Athalar?” Cassian cranes his neck around Azriel, directing the question to the silent driver on his other side. Hunt and Azriel have never been close, but the angel of McLaren offers a genuine smile in response.

“Should be a good season, boys.” Azriel and Cassian share a look. A perfect media-trained answer, Hunt gave. The other driver turns off down another hall, “See you later.”

“What a weirdo,” Cassian mutters once Hunt has disappeared from sight. “Good luck to Ro, having to deal with that.”

Azriel finally rolls his eyes like he’s been wanting to do since he left the press room. “Yeah, and I’m the asshole.”

Cassian huffs and the pair of drivers stop at the end of the hall where it splits to go to their respective driver rooms.

“I’ll see you later, man.”

“Hopefully in a better mood, Azzy,” Cassian chuckles and dips down the hall before Azriel can toss another glare or remark at him.

Shaking his head, Azriel returns to his driver room. He’s going to grab his things and get the fuck out of here, because relaxing at his hotel sounds much better than waiting around here any longer.

A knock on the door interrupts his actions, and Azriel wonders why the Mother fails to grace him with one sliver of luck today.

“Come in,” he grunts, snagging his water from where he left it on top of the desk.

You enter the room with your phone and clipboard in your hands. You’re typing on your phone, fingers flying across the screen as you reply to another email. The water does nothing to quench Azriel’s suddenly dry throat.

He can’t help the way his eyes drag down your body with your attention on your phone, drinking in the sight of you in your pressed pants and professional button up shirt. There’s a lanyard around your neck with your Ferrari employee access printed on it and he wants to wrap his fist around the strap and—

Wherever his mind was drifting off to is completely shattered by your piercing eyes. He hasn’t had enough time to prepare for your apparent annoyance at his attitude during the press conference. You don’t look happy, and neither is his name as it rolls from your lips in a disappointed manner. “Azriel.” You step further into the room. “What the hell was that out there? You know you can’t—”

Your rant is cut off as Azriel consumes the space between you in two long strides, leaning in to slant his lips over yours, eating up your words. You can’t help but to melt into it a little, a lot when his tongue traces the seam of your lips and you part for him, brushing up against your tongue in a sensual move.

When he straightens, you’re panting and a bit flushed. Arousal burns through your body like petrol on the track, but you steel yourself against that fire in his eyes, all ready to light you up.

“Not even going to say hello before you start in on me?” Azriel asks, licking his lips. Your eyes follow the motion, and he smirks. The way his body is pressed up against yours and the firm grip of his hands on your hips threatens to distract you further, especially when his red racing suit is slung around his waist, leaving him in that tight, black long sleeve that contours around his lithe body perfectly.

“No,” you agree, and he frowns. “I’m upset with you.”

“Was it something I said?” He cringes at his own lame attempt at a joke, ducking from your serious gaze. “‘M sorry, I’m just sick of all the Dorian questions. They’re not asking anything about the season or the car, only how I feel about a rookie taking Rowan’s seat.”

You ache for him, you really do, but things like this happen in the sport and he’s been in it long enough now that Azriel should know better than to act like this. You can admit, Rowan had been an asset to Ferrari and to Azriel, wriggling his way under the stoic driver’s skin like a worm, burrowing deep into his heart.

“Az, you need to stop playing it like Dorian took his seat on purpose,” you console gently, “We both know that it was Rowan’s time, and he couldn’t resist what McLaren might’ve proposed.”

“I know, I know,” Azriel replies unhappily, retreating to perch on the arm of the small couch. He can accept it, but he doesn’t like it, preferring to blame the new driver instead. “I don’t want to deal with that little punk,” he groans, because the thought of putting up with a cocksure rookie tires him. “Coming in here thinking he owns the damn place.”

“Azriel,” you tut, rolling your eyes. You put a hand on your hip. “That was literally you four years ago.”

“It’s different,” he mutters, but you both know that it’s not.

You abandon your phone and clipboard on the desk in the room before standing between his parted thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. His damp hair is slicked back but a strand falls across his forehead and he looks really good like this, head tilted upwards, gold eyes painted with false innocence.

“Why don’t you, instead of being Dorian’s enemy, you become his ally?” You ask softly, fingering the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Because that’s not how the team works, baby,” Azriel sighs, enjoying the way you’re scratching his skin. He wants to lean forward and rest his head in the crook of your neck, maybe take a cat nap or nip at the skin there. “We might drive for the same team, but I’m not looking to be the supporting driver.”

Fuck that. There’s no way he’s letting a rookie take his seat when he’s worked his ass off since he received it. He’s been driving for Ferrari since he first got an in the sport, four years ago. He fought tooth and nail to work up from second seat to first, and Azriel will be damned if Dorian rips it from under him in one season.

“Your jealousy is showing,” you tease your boyfriend a little, poking him on the nose. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, hanging all over each other when anyone could walk into the room, but you can’t resist your draw to Azriel. “It’s not as endearing as it is when you’re jealous that I’m talking to one of the engineers.”

“Don’t remind me,” Azriel grunts, eyes hardening a little. “You’re mine and I don’t like to share.”

You snort, “That much is clear, babe,” you step out of his arms and miss the heat of his body already. You collect your things from the desk and return to him for a quick kiss. You shoot him a final knowing look, dodging his attempts at capturing you against his chest again. “Work on it, Azriel. I mean it.”

He salutes you as you open the door to slip out. “Yes ma’am.”

It shuts quietly behind you and Azriel slumps back onto the couch, sighing.

It’s going to be a long season.

_________________________________________

@iambored24601 @secretlyhers @kylaisra @daily-dose-of-sass wasn’t sure but figured u might want to see this one 😅

[oxydiane]

sns is so fucking unhinged and nobody will ever be them i’m sorry. you start the series and it’s like oh haha look at these goofy angsty rivals! they hate each other! then sasuke dies for naruto thirty chapters in giving up his dream of revenge and naruto goes batshit insane. now you’re like ah they’re friends i guess that’s cute! and sasuke is trying to kill naruto because he’s the most important person in his life which is . ok and it becomes the driving force of everything or something. sasuke leaves and naruto dedicates the rest of his life to bringing him back and you’re still a casual fan so ur like he’s doing it for the promise right? then orochimaru says sasuke is his and naruto goes batshit insane feral homicidal (again) and after that sasuke reappears and they have ??? like five different panels dedicated to them staring at each other??? and he jumps off a mountain and hugs naruto for some reasons just to whisper some gay shit in his ear kishimoto frankly needs to be jailed drawing this and keep that best friend nonsense going. anyways. you have sasuke become a convicted terrorist to which the normal people response is “ok we need to hunt him down” and when naruto learns they’re gonna hunt him down he starts screaming crying throwing up he has a panic attack he can’t breathe he’s falling in the snow he gets on his knees and begs them to spare his BFF. after having a meltdown over the thought of sasuke dying what may possibly be the natural coping mechanism any stable person would adapt? of course realising that if sasuke dies he can die too. so he sees sasuke again and after he attempts murdering sakura twice and expresses the intent to murder kakashi he’s like. i will bear the burden of your hatred and die with you hehe and if we both die you won’t be an uchiha and i won’t be the jinchuuriki to the nine tails and we’ll be able to understand each other better in a different lifetime! WE’LL MEET AGAIN IN THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE NOT EVEN DEATH CAN DO US PART! and sasuke (just as insane as him) doesn’t even flinch he’s like what the fuck is wrong with you but then ok let’s fuckingggf die together on my god i will kill your first anyways . then they find out they are soulmates and get cute matching tattoos on their hands and decide to fight to the death once more because sasuke is back on his i will shoulder all the hatred of the world alone and i need to kill you because i love you more than anyone else in the world actually you’re the only person i love so you need to DIE and naruto is like I WILL NOT LET YOU SHOULDER THAT HATRED ALONE I WILL FREE YOU FROM THE PAIN and they fight and despite all the whatever weapons used in the war it’s a fuckinggg fistfight in which just as sasuke is about to inflict what he thinks is the last blow says “farewell… my one and only…………………. (very long pause to accentuate how heteronormative this next word is gonna be) FRIEND” and fucking stops using his sharingan because not even then he can record the image of naruto dying especially by his hand but naruto STOPS HIM LIKE A f cHAMP and they end up blowing each other’s arms off (rip the matchies) and as they’re bleeding to the fucking death sasuke is like you’re the only person that has never tried to severe their ties with me why do you go so far for me and naruto from the depths of comphet hell is like because you’re my FRIEND and sasuke being absolutely done with this bullshit is like ok what the fuck does that mean to you then and this is where it gets even gayer and relatable because naruto is like i don’t KNOW i just know that when you hurt i hurt and i just can’t take it and isn’t that the most gay experience thing ever? naruto knows what it feels like to have friends but what he feels for sasuke is so bone deep and unconventional that he cannot make sense of it and can only describe the pain it brings. after that sasuke CRIES LIKE THEYVE GOT ME SOOO FUCKED UP but you know what got me even more fucked up?

naruto waking up bloodied and battered and half alive with one arm missing but still wondering if that was heaven because sasuke was next to him. sasuke looking so happy and peaceful when saying “i lost” as a stark contrast to him looking and feeling like half of his body was being torn apart when he “won” against naruto in vote1 and left him. the bitterness of victory vs the sweetness of losing if you will. AND HIM COMPARING WHAT HE FEELS FOR NARUTO TO PRAYING MY GODD. did i forget to mention that then we learn that Ohhh it was never a stupid shallow rivalry as we all thought! they have actually been watching each other from afar since they were little freshly traumatised children and have longed to hold each other’s hands since then! what was it sasukeeee you felt warm and fuzzy when you saw naruto to thought of it as a weakness? these two are so astronomically hopelessly desperately obsessed in love with each other it’s ridiculous i’ve had ENOUGH free me from this mental prison

[bullet-prooflove]

Love Is A Strong Word: Mike Franks x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @star017 @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms

Companion piece to:

Life Lessons (NSFW) - Mike and you don't play the games other couples do.

Count To Five (NSFW) - Mike comes home to a naked woman in his bed.

Pool House (NSFW) - You and Mike steal a moment alone at the LA Law Enforcement Conference.

Mike is terrible at apologising.

It just wasn’t the way he was raised. His father was a mean son of a bitch and unfortunately some of those traits, they come out in him despite his momma’s influence.

Right now you’re standing at the edge of his crime scene, leaning against your car as you complete your notes in that little black book of yours. It’s part of the protocol when SDPD handover a crime scene to NIS, the detective on call, in this case you, details their initial findings before giving them to the Special Agent in Charge.

Noone knows that the two of you are fucking. You’re both cool in the field, professional. There’s a little humour sometimes but nothing that borders on flirting. He knows that shit like that starts rumours, especially for  a woman in law enforcement and he doesn’t want you catching any flack.  

You don’t acknowledge his approach, you don’t even register the fact he’s standing beside you until he clears his throat to get your attention. Your eyes flicker up to meet his and the look you give him, it’s enough to burn him alive from the inside out.

“I’m bad at this.” He says into the space between you as you tear out the replicated pages and reset the carbon paper in your notebook.

“Well you’ve been a Special Agent for a while now.” You say indicating to the crime scene. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“No, I mean…” He trails off and you look at him expectantly, closing the notebook and placing it inside your jacket pocket. “I shouldn’t have said what I said last night.”

“You were just telling it like it is.” You say frankly, placing a hand on your hip. “I’m just the girl you fuck when you need to work some shit out right?”

He hates himself for saying those words. He’d been tired, sore and frustrated when he’d gotten home and there you were in his kitchen, making dinner. He didn’t expect it, not after the way you left things at the pool back in L.A. Walking away like that, it had made him feel shitty, like he was nothing to you but a cock to get yourself off on. In the past he would have had no problem with that but now, with you…

It’s a big fucking problem because Mike wants more, he just isn’t great at vocalising it. He’ll never forget the expression on your face when you walked out of his house. That hurt, that frustration, he feels it ten fold because he knows he’s blowing his own shit up.

“We both know you’re more than that.” He says softly as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved last night, it wasn’t… gentlemanly.”

“Maybe we need to address why you did react that way.” You state, leaning against the side panel of your car.

“Confusion mostly.” He admits, his gaze lingering on Randy as he stomps through the muddy crime scene in boat shoes. “You’re making love to me but you’re not sleeping with me. I wake up alone and it’s not a good feeling, in fact it’s a shitty feeling because it makes me feel like you don’t want me, the real me.”

“I thought that was what you wanted.” You tell him, your voice lowering as you lean in close so you won’t be overheard. “When we first started this, you made that very clear-.”

“Well a lot’s changed since we first started.” He reminds you because the two of you have spent a lot of time together, picking locks, hotwiring cars and teaching each other all kinds of illegal shit. Mike’s love language it’s acts of service and nothing says romance like making sure his girl has all the options available to her because the world it isn’t kind to women, especially not towards strong, capable ones like you. “Look, I love you and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that you love me too-.”

“Love is such a strong word.” You say with a hit of humour and he knows you’re starting to thaw. “Tolerate is probably more where we’re at.”

“Leigh.” He says fondly, tilting his head towards you with that knowing glint in his eyes. “Can’t you just give an old man a break?”

“Fine, I love you too.” You say resolutely as you hand him your notes. Your fingers brush across his and he holds onto them for just a little too long. “Now get back to work and I’ll see you later tonight.”

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[101maverick]

Prompt request: Secretly Atlantean gothamite saving Dick Grayson Robin from drowning in the bay. She recognizes his voice as her classmate crush.

They would ideally be 13-14 ish

A/n: okok this is soooo original i’m in loooveee. I did some research to find out where exactly the Gotham bay is in terms of city area and I hope i got it right :)) Also let’s ignore the fact this took me a whole month to finish, okay? Very sorry about the wait, life has been kicking my butt recently😅

Fishy Business

The water in Gotham was shit.

The pollution typical of every big American city was one thing, but whatever the heck Gotham had was ten times worse. Like, Chernobyl level bad.

Whatever filth was thrown in the waters of the Gotham Harbour on the daily definitely saw a lot of local chemical creations, the ones the city’s rogues were so fond of coming up with to terrorise the population.

Needless to say you would not be swimming in open waters any time soon.

You missed the ocean. You missed being in your element.

The fact you weren’t stupid enough to dare a swim in chemically spiked water didn’t negate the fact the Gotham Harbour was the only body of water you had available though, if not only to look at wistfully while mourning what you had before having to come to this forsaken city.

And that’s what you were doing when it happened. You had been stood up by your classmate and crush, Dick Grayson, for your chemistry study session. Neptune only knows how much that boy sucks at the subject, and the fact he skipped out on your study session made your insides flare up in indignation. Coming to the nearest body of water and reminiscing was the best way you knew of for letting go of ugly feelings.

Just letting your hair be lightly whipped around by the wind, staring wistfully into the last blazing scorches of the dying sun, standing on one of the docks and pretending the overwhelming smell of fish came from the dredges of the seaside market you used to camp out near as a kid.

Then, of course, it happened.

A loud crash startled you out of your musings, and you turned around just in time to see a figure splashing in the water a ways away.

Who the hell goes for an evening swim here? You thought to yourself as you made your way closer to the perturbed water, keeping to the elongated shadows born of the fish crates scattered around.

Once you were close enough to distinguish more of the figure, your eyes widened considerably.

The body flailing around in the murky water of the docks was none other than Robin, infamous sidekick to Gotham’s resident bat-themed vigilante.

Gotham’s resident vigilante that was very clear about his stance on super-powered beings in his territory.

You considered your options. If Batman knew his sidekick was saved by someone with very obviously atlantean powers he no doubt would clock you as somebody who wanted to mess with him, who was probably even spying on him due to the conveniency of the coincidence.

You did not want to find out what Batman did to people who not only disregarder his rules by merely existing in the wrong place, let alone what he did to people he thought were meddling in his business.

Plus, surely Robin could swim, right? He would have no problem getting out of the water by himself, so there was no need for your water-manipulation abilities anyway.

Despite your self-reassurances and the fact you should have been hightailing it out of there as fast as possible, uncertainty kept your feet rooted to the rotten wooden panels.

And so you kept watching, growing increasingly worried as Robin failed to keep his head outside of the water for more than a few seconds at a time.

You made it approximately thirteen seconds before saying ‘fuck it’ and stepping in, emerging from the shadows you had found refuge in just enough time get a good stance, planting your feet and raising your arms while letting your abilities reacquaint themselves with the water near you.

It was a fast affair, getting your powers to grasp at the water Robin was perturbing and pulling, violently yanking both the liquid and the boy out of the Harbor and onto the dock.

The vigilante gasped, gripping the material under him while hacking coughs wracked through his chest as he expelled the water from his human lungs.

You remained hovering above him, watching him, immensely glad the visible part of his face was regaining its normal colour instead of the red-purple it had previously been.

You had always looked upon Batman and Robin as pretty unapproachable, two beacons of justice and penance for Gotham’s criminals, who struck fear into even the most hardened thugs this rotten city had to offer.

But- but Robin was light to Batman’s darkness, and he always had a smile on his face in the grainy pictures that sometimes appeared in the newspaper, and if you focused your inhuman hearing on your surroundings late enough at night you could hear laughter mixing with the swoosh of the wind and the rustling of heavy fabric and the rhythmical zapping of a rope through the air.

And plus, Robin looked so human in this moment, so defenceless while he coughed his lungs out, that you just couldn’t reconcile the boy in front of you with the pillar of rambunctious justice fixed in your mind. And above all else, you couldn’t leave a human, one with so many enemies at that, alone while there was still the risk of him not being completely out of danger.

So you stayed.

You stayed, sat on an empty crate beside him, and kept vigilant with your enhanced senses to avoid any unwanted attention. As he calmed down he seemed to slowly gain awareness of his surroundings.

After what seemed like an eternity, he got his arms under him and slowly lifted himself up into a sitting position. That’s when he took notice of you, still watching him intently.

His eyes weren’t visible through the white-out lenses of his mask, but the way his forehead creased and his mouth opened a little more around his still heavy breaths made you able to accurately guess his surprise. “You- you just…what was-“

You interrupted him before he could keep voicing his question. “Look, just don’t tell the Bat about me and we’re good, okay? I really don’t need the trouble, plus you owe me one.”

Robin just kept looking at you, chest rising and falling with each deep breath, tiny shivers coursing through his soaking-wet form.

After a few beats that felt like eons, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” He half-gasped out, voice breathy with exertion. “Won’t tell a soul.”

His voice… it was achingly familiar.

You studied the unmasked portions of his face more closely, more attentively, your superhuman eyesight undisturbed by the darkness.

You were able to make out sun-kissed skin, soaked inky locks you fantasised about running your fingers through every day during chemistry, a defined jaw, high cheekbones and lips that pulled into semi-rare but blinding smiles. Lips you dreamed about kissing at night, while you lay on your bed thinking of your life.

You were sitting face-to-face with Dick Grayson. Robin.

You nodded, looking right into those white lenses. “Good.” At that, you looked around the empty area of the docks, spying the area sounds of fighting were coming from. “Well, I, uh, better go.”

You turned to him. “Try not to drown again, thanks.” And with that you stood.

Before walking away you turned around one last time, unable to stop yourself. “And, by the way, you stood me up for our chemistry study session. We’ll catch it up tomorrow.”

Before he could reply, you ran away from the docks and into Gotham Proper.

Gosh, you really were an idiot, weren’t you?

——————————

A/n: If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

[princessbrunette]

Kook!reader Mouthing off to jj and he looks up from whatever he’s doing and is like “ you better chill out or Ima tear that ass up” and her spoiled ass has never been spanked or anything so she thinks he’s bluffing and says he’s too pussy or something. So he just raises his eyebrows and 10 seconds later she’s over his knee confused, and he ends up making her cry bc she needs someone to show her who’s boss 🤭(I need this pls write it)

♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹♡

jj always got very concentrated and serious when he worked on his bike. it required his full attention, his lips pressed in a thin line with that crease appearing between his brows as he switched out tools and wrenches at whatever he can to fix the problem he’s facing with it. he’d learnt over the years to fix it by himself, hell — he could probably take the bike apart and rebuild it with his eyes closed. it was sexy, seeing him like that— the one downside was it meant less attention for you, and for a girl so spoiled that was a nightmare.

you sit on a stool near him as he works on twisting bolts and sorting wires on an inside panel of his bike. he doesn’t mind you being there, what he does mind is your constant nagging and unnecessary chatter. if it was too much for jj, it must have been bad.

“dont know, babe. it’ll be done when it’s done.” his eyes flutter with irritation as he answers your whining for what feels like the tenth time that minute.

“y’said that last time. you know i came alllll the way to the cut to hang out with you and you’re spending’ all this time with your bike.”

“well, y’haven’t even been here an hour and i told you i’d be done soon. so quit the whining, yeah?” he warns, and he thinks he’s finally shut you up— being met with purely peace and quiet as he continues working away. that is until, you pipe up once more.

“maybe you should date the bike then. seein’ as you love it more than me.”

the tool in his hand clanks against the ground as he drops it, using the same hand to run over his face, releasing a quiet hum of frustration as he tries to gather himself. he stands, turning fully to you with a malicious grin and a tongue in his cheek. you stare, wide eyed and unbothered, feet still swinging.

“i don’t know how your mommy and daddy deal with you back on the kook side’a the island— but over here this lil’ attitude you got goin’ on ain’t gonna fly too well with me, alright? cut it out ‘fore i make you.” he’s made his way over to you, jaw tight and big eyes flickering between yours. you tilt your head, a challenge.

“like you’re gonna do anything about it.” you tease and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“alright, okay— yeah, let’s see shall we?” he asks before he’s dragging you off the stool by the arm and leading you inside.

not even five minutes later, and he’s got you folded over his lap in tears, his large hand relentlessly coming down on your sore ass cheek, each hit making you squeal.

“did i say stop countin’? ‘cos i’m pretty sure i never said that.” he tilts his head, raising his voice just a tad as you hiccup and sniffle.

“seventeen.” you sob, holding onto his thigh for dear life.

“yeah. three more. you’ll think twice next time before you pull that kook shit on me, huh?”

“m’sorry jj!” you whine and it’s met with another spank.

“yeah, i bet.”

“eighteen!”

after you’ve had all the attitude smacked out of you, the blonde cradles you on his lap, rubbing his lips together guiltily as you cling onto him. you had to learn your lesson though, so after he made sure you were okay and got you anything you needed — he headed back outside to finish up on his bike.

he left you to sulk and think about your actions, and just as he was finishing up on his bike— he hears the quiet padding of your feet approaching once more, standing as quietly as you possibly could until he looked over, giving you permission to speak.

“i’m sorry, jj.” you mewl and he throws the rag he was wiping his hands on over his shoulder, pushing himself up to stand.

“i know, babydoll— you’re good now, yeah?”

you respond by lifting up your hand unsurely, pinching a wad of cash. “what’s that?” he asks, placing his tool back into its box.

“money to get the bike fixed so you can spend more time with me.” you sniffle quietly, unsure how he’s gonna take it. he chuckles, snatching his hat off and pulling you in for a hug, his arm around the back of your neck and hand rubbing your lower back.

“i finished with the bike, you goof.” it comes out muffled as he kisses the crown of your head. “and whilst i appreciate the gesture, there’s no freakin’ way i’d let anyone touch my bike.” he pulls back, offering you a friendly smile before pressing a kiss to the tip of your snotty nose and then bringing his fingers up to pinch at it, wiping the snot away. you crinkle your nose, and he starts to walk you backwards. “c’mon, let’s go inside.”

♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹♡

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader.

Chapter Twelve: Without You I’m Just a Fraction

summary: theo’s dealings come to light.

modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington.

masterlist

——

  From the moment you walk in the door to your home, Steve knows something is wrong. Can see it in the fall of your shoulders, the way you don’t respond to his touch, how you seem overall deflated. Like someone sucked all the life out of you, leaving you a husk of what he knows you to be. 

This bright and vibrant person, always giving him shit in the best way. The kind of way that challenges him, makes him want to come out of his shell more, makes him open up to his fullest self. 

But now you seem almost listless. Your face blank as you strip out of your dress and slip into the shower. He follows with a knock on the sliding glass panel — finds you sitting there on the bench, knees pulled up to your chest, letting the steam fog up the room as if there’s a stain you just can’t quite get out. 

It sends him spiraling. Worrying something must have happened when his back had been turned. Something someone must have said or done, be it a partner of his company, employee, or one of the other wives. He tries to recall anything he had seen. Any moment that would give him some insight as to what he is walking into, but nothing jumps to the forefront of his mind.

Instead he asks if there’s room for him on the bench. Ducks under the spray of water to fold you there against his chest, your back to his front, cradled in the circle of his arms. 

Your head falls to your knees, shoulders trembling as you submit to your emotions, and he breaks, because the only words you give him are, “Theo knows about us.”

  ——

  “So…what does he have?” 

“The video,” you tell him later, when you’re both in pajamas, sitting across from one another on your bed, hating that your night has turned into this rather than amorous kisses and twisted bedsheets. You can’t even think about anything else right now other than Theo — other than his threats of blackmail against you. Suggestions that he’ll take you to court, if need be. “From our party. I know you remember that night. I know you lied and said you didn’t, and it doesn’t matter anymore, but we…were apparently caught on camera.” 

“Okay,” he says solemnly, rubbing a hand along his cheekbone. “Okay.”

“That’s all you have to say? Okay? Steve, this is far from okay.” 

“I know!” He shouts, and it’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice around you. At your jolt, he crawls closer to you on the mattress, cradles your face in his palms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry. I — I’ll call my lawyer in the morning. See what our options are. I’ll have them look over the will again.”

“Steve,” you whisper, voice breaking off into a sob as he tugs you into his arms, hands rubbing up and down your spine as he muffled your cries with his chest. “I’m scared.”

“I know, baby,” he soothes, but his racing heart beneath your ear betrays him when he says, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  ——

  Charlie sprawls by your feet that next morning, his head over your ankles. Your hand reaches over to pet him, earning a nudge of a wet nose, before rolling over to face Steve. He’s awake — probably has been all night, what with the dark circles beneath his eyes. Nose judging along his jaw playfully, he offers you the softest of smiles. A quick little upturn. But it’s enough to have you shuffling closer, one hand coming up to rest over his cheek. 

It’s in your momentary distraction you don’t see Steve reach out to run along your forearm, the bruises blooming beneath your skin making you wince. His eyes narrow, the breath in his lungs becoming a harsh rasp. Each more strained than the last. 

“Did he touch you?” There’s no point in denying it, so you nod your head, face crumpling all over again as he pulls you into his chest and presses his face into the crook of your neck, voice broken as he mutters, “I’m going to kill him.”

“It’s not worth it,” you tell him, palms rubbing up and down his trembling back. “He’s horrible. The worst. He’s cheating on Cami too.”

“He put his hands on you,” he growls out, and you hug him tighter. Try to quell the rattling of his form. The endless tremors that wrack his exhausted frame. “I love you. I’m sorry, I love you.”

You lay like that for minutes. Hours. Longer, even. By the time morning has turned into evening, neither of you has made any effort to move – still too stricken by the events of the past twenty-four hours. Still overcome by the endless barrage of whirling emotions. The dawning realization and understanding that your secret has been revealed. Brought to light. That someone so desperately wants to use the knowledge against you both. Against your marriage that, though it may have been forged in lies, is now real. 

Neither of you speaks. There are no words – not really. And neither of you wants to anyway. Instead, you merely bask in the presence of the other. In the constant and solidity of your marriage. It brings you peace now in the growing disquiet within your soul.

So as Steve later gets ready for the evening, he brings you in close near the doorway. Pulls you tight within the circle of his arms, whispering, “I will make this right,” against the crown of  your head. And you believe him. Put all your faith, hope, trust, and love in him as he kisses you one last time at the door and leaves you in the penthouse with the silence of the four walls of your home, and Charlie’s concerned glances from where he lays on the floor. 

“Your dad is going to make everything okay,” you tell Charlie, patting his head affectionately. 

You believe him. 

You have to, because otherwise there is no hope. 

——

  Cami comes by that evening. The kids are staying with her parents, leaving the two of you to sit around in the living room, ruminating over everything that has happened while you wait to hear from Steve. 

One word. All you need and want from him is one word right now. If only to know what’s happening, to find out what the consequences of your actions may end up being. But instead you've been met with radio silence. Sharing in Cami’s grief as you tell her what happened the remainder of the evening. 

You start at the beginning. With the fake marriage agreement, working your way all the way through the present day. To your time away with him, to the love that has grown between the two of you. To your fears that you’ll have cost him everything because of it. 

“I mean…he’s not wrong,” you tell her after a while, smiling sadly to yourself. “I did marry Steve after meeting him only a handful of times. My marriage is a lie.” 

“But it’s not now,” she reminds you, sincerity in her tone. And you know she’s right. “You love him. Anyone can see but just looking at the two of you how you feel about one another.” 

“I do,” you say, glancing down to your phone once more where there’s a picture of you and Steve as the background, him with his lips on your cheek, and you with the giddiest grin across your lips. “I’m in love with him, Cami.” 

“Then it’ll be okay,” she reminds you, reaching over to clasp your hand. You note her very bare ring finger with a frown, and she offers you the softest of grimaces. “It’s going to be okay for me too. I don’t know how, but it will.” 

“Where is he now?” you ask sullenly, watching as her features drop once more. 

It’s the least dressed up you’ve seen her. Used to a socialite life since she was a mere child, Cami is one for designer shoes, clothes, and bags. And while she’s likely still in designer clothing, it’s no more than an oversized hoodie and leggings that donned her form, her curly mane of red hair in a messy bun at the top of her head. 

She looks small like this, sitting in your living room. Impossibly broken. Irreparably so, with Charlie laying across her lap in support. Her fingers comb through his hair, the puppy oblivious to the chaos and calamity that has followed the two of you around in the wake of the party. 

“He’s away again. He’s been spending so much money since I found out about the cheating. I know he got a raise, but it’s almost like he’s overcompensating now.” 

“I remember you saying that,” you say, thoughts trailing off a bit as Cami prattles on further. 

You: Steve, did Theo get two raises this year? 

“I think he’s headed to Italy with the woman he’s seeing. I haven’t gotten the nerve to look at our billing statements. I don’t really think I want to at this point,” she says, and it’s a broken, watery sound. “This was it for me. My father is going to set me up with a divorce lawyer, and we’ll go from there.” 

My Love: No…why do you ask? I��ll be home soon, baby. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. 

My Love: I’ll grab us dinner on our way home. Don’t worry about cooking or anything. I miss you. 

“The kids are confused, and I know all these changes will be hard for them, but he’s never been all that active with them either.”

You: Thank you. I miss you too, but I promise I’m okay. Cami is here. We’re keeping each other company.

“And I know I haven’t been the best to them, but I want to be,” she says vehemently, sniffing loudly to keep her tears at bay. “Do you think people can change?”

 Your eyes soften with the heartbreak in her tone. “Are you asking if I think you can change?”

She whimpers, face crumpling with her anguish. “I just want to be a good mom.” 

“You are a good mom. You’re making all of these hard decisions for their betterment with them in mind. You are a good mom, Cami.”

You: I think you should look into it. Cami said Theo has been spending all this money — talking about getting another raise. 

My Love: I’ll have it looked into. I love you. <3

You: I love you too. <3

“I’m proud of you, Cami,” you whisper, crawling closer to wrap your arms around her neck, letting her fall into your embrace. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

“I’m sorry he’s trying to take you down with him,” she says, letting out a shaky exhale, tears imbuing her every word. “I just wish there was some way we could make this right. All of it.”

It’s not her cross to bear, and even so you can only imagine what she’s feeling. This realization that her husband is not at all who she ever thought of him to be. Years of marriage and two children later, and she’s just realizing it now in the worst way imaginable. The fact of the matter is, he’s capable of not only cheating on the woman he vowed to love and remain faithful to forever, but he’s also not above putting his hands on another human being, as well as blackmailing them in broad daylight. 

And like a strike of lightning. Or sheer divine luck, your phone illuminates once more on the coffee table. You pluck it up in your palm and see the message flashing across the device, heart pounding at the words that are there. 

My Love: My beautiful, beautiful genius of a wife. We found something. 

“Steve thinks he may have found something.” 

  ——

  Steve calls in a meeting at work two weeks later. Every day that passes sends you into a tailspin of emotion, but Steve asks that you promise to trust as his attorneys work out the details of everything. 

In the end, before you walk into the conference room, clad in a black skirt and a blazer top, trying to maintain an air of business professionalism, he grabs your hand. Clutches it tight as he pulls you down the hall, wanting a little bit of privacy away from all the peering eyes. 

“I want to start with…I’d give it all up. The company, the name, all of it. It has never meant much to me other than some…probably fucked up sense of upholding a legacy.” He swallows, folding you against his chest, rocking you in his arms. “But I would give it all up, because none of it matters. You are the most important thing in my life. Most important person. I love you.”

“Steve…” Your hand reaches up to cup his cheek, heart hammering away behind your sternum. 

“I mean it,” he says, pushing back enough to look you in the eye. “None of it matters. Only you. I’d give it all up for you.”

“You have me,” you remind him, placing your hand over his chest. “Forever, right?” 

“Forever.” He nods, and you swear you catch the slightest glimmer of tears gathering in his eyes. 

Leaning up onto your toes, you kiss him. Silence all the swirling thoughts likely running rampant in his mind over the last few days of preparing for this meeting. 

And now here it is. 

  ——

  Steve’s attorneys are not present for the meeting, but he’s prepared with everything they’ve since discussed. Instead, he runs it as he does every morning meeting. Only this time, you sit in the background and listen as he greets the room. He’s professionalism embodied, all sweeping motions, booming voice, and full of confidence. He runs through what you assume is normal morning meeting jargon. 

Listing accomplishments and setbacks. Shouting out strong workers and encouraging them in their endeavors. And then he becomes serious. A grave look crosses his features as he stands in front of the room and tells everyone, including a smirking Theo, that he had approached you about marriage months ago, after hardly even knowing one another. 

“It was irresponsible of me and I understand if this has hurt your trust in me,” he tells the room, and you watch as the faces all around you look on with sympathy toward Steve. Sympathy. Understanding. No one seems alarmed or angry. No one says much at all — not really. “I do love my wife, but if anyone has any issue, please let me know.”

No one speaks for a while. They merely glance around the table at one another. At you. As if no one knows what to say in this instance. Then again, it’s not really an everyday occurrence that one’s boss admits to falsifying a marriage. 

It’s an older man you recognize who speaks first. Your breath whooshes out of your lungs in a deep exhale as he speaks, “Steven, what are you even going on about, my boy? You’ve loved that woman since she walked down the aisle. We were all there. We all saw it on your face.” 

“Can we get to work now?” another man teases, standing up and clapping your husband on his back. “Fake marriage. That’s some shit my girlfriend tells me she reads about in some of her books.” The man turns to you then, grinning. “Mrs. Harrington, it was great seeing you this morning.” 

The room begins to disperse. Each laughing at Steve’s admission. Each brings a smile to your face, and a glower to Theo’s. You almost forgot he was even there until Steve calls his name and asks for him to stay behind. 

“Honey, would you mind joining me at the table?” Steve asks. 

Your heels feel heavy as they clack against the floor. As they carry you the short distance to where Steve is sitting, where he’s pulled out a chair for you to settle down in. Theo laces his fingers in front of him, elbows propped up onto the table, a bored expression lining his features. 

“I would like to start off by saying that if you ever put your hands on my wife again, I swear to god, Theo —”

Theo snarls, spitting venomously, “She came at me with accusations she knows nothing of —”

“You were cheating on your wife!” you retort hotly, hand slamming down on the conference room table. “What else is there for me to comprehend? Or are you still insistent on me being an idiot on top of being beneath you because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my fucking mouth.” 

Steve snorts beside you, his hand coming around to rest on your bicep. There’s clear pride evident in his gaze, those hazel eyes of his locked on your profile as Theo leans back on his chair, the back of it straining against his weight. 

“Cami, you see, she —”

“Cami is more woman than you’ll ever deserve. And you’ve gone and fucked that all up by galavanting all over the United States, flaunting your affairs right in front of her face.” Your words are snide and sound foreign on your lips, but you want them to sink in. To really settle deep within him — not that you think he’ll change. Cami asked if you thought people could change. Some people can. People like Theo? You’re not quite convinced. “She might have been the only person who would have saved your ass, but you went and screwed that up too.” 

“What do you —”

Steve pulls out a folder and slides his father’s will across the conference room table. Theo leans in again onto his elbows, reading over the contents within. Steve’s legal team had highlighted certain parts. The parts Steve shared with you, the ones that had made you break down into happy tears when he told you. 

“You see, my father’s will stated I needed to be married. He didn’t say by what means — only that I married. I was married in June. You were there, weren’t you?” Steve asks, a sly grin sliding across his features. 

“I was,” Theo grumbles. 

“My wife and I were friends when I proposed to her. It’s more than a lot of people can say when they marry,” Steve explains, and Theo begins to wither a bit on the other side of the table. “People marry for different reasons other than love all the time. But again, all I needed to do was marry. I did that, so I ended up satisfying the will. I also addressed our coworkers today, all of which seemed not at all bothered by my news. So that blackmail you tried to use against my wife? Seems pretty pointless now, don’t you think?” 

Theo doesn’t say anything. Just blinks as he pushes the will out of the way, as if he cannot think to stare at it any longer. It’s then, in his momentary distraction, you text Cami to come in. She appears moments later in a flurry of movement, her head hung low, eyes not once meeting Theo’s as she comes over to your side of the table and sits on your left. 

“Darling —”

“Save it, Theo. I’m disappointed in you, for not only hurting me, but for hurting our family — and Steve’s family. They’re our family, too. But you don’t care about that.” She laughs bitterly. “I don’t think you really care about anyone, do you?”

Theo’s quiet, and you reach over to grab Cami’s hand for support, saying, “You know, while you were busy running around with the other woman in your life, we looked into your most recent raise. You don’t have to say anything. All your questions will be answered soon. Just — embezzlement is one hell of a crime, Cousin.”

Theo’s skin pales. Goes from his usual tan pallor to a sickly pale one. Cami, yourself and Steve all rise to your feet as previously discussed. 

“I’m sure you’ll be wanting a moment to process,” Steve says as the three of you make your way over to the door. “I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

Cami pauses next, laying her hand on his shoulder. “And Theo?” 

He lifts his head. 

“I want a divorce.”

  ——

  Ultimately, Theo was found to have been stealing money for two years. A fact that, with the help of Steve’s attorneys, starts to come to life after a few months, building a case against the man. 

Court proceedings likely won’t be for some time, but it brings you peace to know that he’ll be facing justice for what he’s done. 

On top of that, Cami moves out of the city and in with her parents. You and Steve try to visit often enough, your newfound friendship with the woman quickly becoming one that you value endlessly. 

Today, however, none of that matters. 

No — none of it matters at all. Not as you stand on the beach surrounded by some of your closest friends, standing across from Steve. Eddie stands between you both, asking you both to recite those vows you spoke exactly a year ago now. 

You brush your eyes as Steve finishes saying his vows, his mouth rounding to form those three words that’ll forever make your heart take flight no matter how many times you’ve heard him say them. 

The wind rustles the drapery along the arch erected around the two of you. It teases at the little petals on the flowers positioned along the edges. They flutter in the wind around you, like little kisses that dance along your cheeks and dress that you wear today. Simpler than your wedding dress from before. A white gown with spaghetti straps, no veil this time, and sandals instead of too expensive heels. Across from you, Steve’s in a white suit, looking handsome as ever. His skin has a fresh glow from the past few days you’ve spent with your friends, celebrating in the Maldives where it all began, before readying for this day. 

Eddie announces Steve may kiss the bride and you’re eagerly meeting him in his embrace, his arm swooping low around your waist to dip you as your friends scream and clap in their excitement. 

There’s a small celebration in the back of a rented restaurant as day turns to night. Lights are stringed up around the place, like dozens of little fireflies twinkling in the night sky. You’ve discarded your shoes, dancing to the music from the live band the restaurant has hired for the evening. A woman sings, as you sway with him, a little drunk on champagne, and high on life. 

On love. 

Eddie and Chrissy and Robin and Nancy are wrapped up in one another, too. Full of light and bliss. Of endless plates of food and their endless glasses of rosé. And farther in the distance, Cami dances with a man she met while on a much needed vacation. 

It’s new, and she’s not sure it’ll go anywhere, but she looks happy and that’s all you could ever hope for. 

Later, you’re brought across the water by boat to your secluded little bungalow. The same place you honeymooned the year before, this time holding hands across the long ramp leading to the home. He’s on you the moment you flick the lights on, bathing the place in an orange glow. 

Fingers slide along the straps of your dress. Kisses are pressed along your breasts. Steve slides a zipper down and watches your dress slither down to the floor, revealing a pale lingerie set beneath. In return, you push his suit off his shoulders. Ease the buttons on his shirt from their trappings. Tugs down his pants and watches them pool near his ankles. 

He drags you down onto the bed. Eases your thighs apart and licks at you until you’re crying his name, back arching up toward the ceiling, fingers in his hair. Those heated lips mark a path up your trembling stomach, along the curves of your breasts, lingering over your mouth where he whispers he loves you into skin. 

And you kiss him firmly. Fiercely as his fingers thread through yours against the mattress, wrinkling the blankets when he pushes in and rocks his hips into yours, his breathing turning into soft pants. Into curses of how good you feel. Your sighs and whimpers become moans and keens as your feet dig into his back, drawing him closer, heat rolling up your belly until the rubber band snaps and you’re shuddering once more, feeling his own orgasm rattle his form. 

You bask in the glow of your love as night turns into morning, bodies tangled on the hammock seated just outside of your bedroom window. Your head rests on Steve’s chest, bodies still slick with sweat from the numerous times you come together in the night, eyes drifting closed as you listen to the steady thump of his heart within. 

He tangles his fingers with yours, toying with your rings when he whispers, “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” 

You lean up onto your elbows against his chest, brushing your lips over his. “Happy anniversary, Steve.” 

  ——

just one more, friends. 🩷🩷

[preservationofnormalcy]

[It is January of 2022. I’m entering a wing of the DC Office site that looks older than the others. The carpets are a strange brown, vintage looking, and the lighting casts an almost yellow pallor over the wood paneled walls. I can practically smell the cigarettes. I pass by an empty room labeled “social media office” - boxes piled up by the door. Maybe they’re going to be using it soon. They’ll need it.

I approach a door labeled Necrocommunications, knock lightly twice, then enter. 

I am greeted with the sound of a voice drifting softly across the room. A few chairs and tables sit around me, the same vintage style as the hallway before, the same browns and yellows. A high desk is across the room, and a woman is seated at a control panel. She has black curly hair, done up in an old fashioned style, a polka dotted blouse, and though she’s facing away from me, I can see the edges of cats-eye glasses. 

The panel she’s working at is huge, and resembles the type of switchboards they used to use in the ‘50s, dozens of physical wire connections crisscrossing the device and attaching via plugs. The woman has a headset, one ear covered in a bulky speaker, with a microphone near her mouth. She speaks casually, with an incredibly heavy New Jersey accent.]

I] Oh, him? He’s circled, babe. Taken as hell. Mhmm. And he still asked you? Ain't that a bite. So now you know he’s out of the question and yarding on. Dodged a bullet, hun.

M] Irene? 

I] Oh, god, hold on. My appointment is here. Yeah. I’ll call you later, beautiful. Caio. 

[She hung up the call, taking her headset off and turning to me. She looked like she was straight out of my grandfather’s high school photo album, including the color. Her skin was almost grey, it was so pale, but she didn’t seem like she was sick. She looked me over with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, leaning forward on her desk.]

I] Well, hello Miss Meghan Hendricks. What can I do for you, sugar? 

M] I’m here to interview you for my audit, Ms Donofrio. 

I] All business, aincha? 

M] This is my job.  

I] ….yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I don’t get cute visitors much. 

M] Right. 

I] Pull up a chair, hun. 

M] I’ll just stand. This won’t be long. I came here because of your Occult Communication Tools poster. 

[She sits back with a dramatic sigh.]

I] Yeah, took me forever to convince them to let me do that. We had agents using spirit boards, pendulums, casting runes, tarot cards, ghost boxes, all kinds of shit they brought from home. Bought from Walmart, or worse, a thrift store. I was always telling them, honey, baby, you gotta use our stuff, we maintain it, we disinfect it of ectoplasmic residue, lockout-tagout procedures, the works. It’s so, so unsafe to use anything but our tools. Sure, you gotta do paperwork when you check it out, but it’s better than somethin’ following you home…

M] Right into it, I guess. That’s what Necrocommunications does, right? Talk to the dead? 

I] You bet, sugar. The dead, demons, angels sometimes when they ain’t on our plane or in realspace. Other little spiritual twerps and bugaboos. 

M] I’ve been asking this a lot in the last few months, but…you can do that? Consistently? 

I] Consistent enough to make it worthwhile. S’not perfect. Fails most of the time, depending on who you’re calling. 

M] How so? 

I] Well, some people don’t wanna be called. Some people are chatterboxes. We got a list of likely contacts who we suggest people contact, but…we do other people sometimes, too. Always worth a shot, I say.

M] How does it work? 

[At that, Irene winced slightly and wagged her head from side to side.]

I] We got theories, but more importantly we got procedures. We know different things work for different people. Sometimes it’s cultural. The method that contacts Mr Smith may not work for Mr Chan, y’know? 

M] It’s mostly for information gathering, then. Like the Board of Infernal Affairs.

I] Information gathering’s a big part of it. Someone died with a secret? See if they got loose lips now. Also, y’know, helps with hauntings or gettin’ rid of little jerk spirits. 

M] You mentioned disinfection….

I] Yeah, yeah, there’s….risks, y’know. Sometimes the person you contact ain’t a fink, you know, and they start a whole new haunting. Sometimes one spirit’ll lie and say they’re another. Then they follow you home, start leeching your energy. Happens less when we cleanse the tools. Which is why there’s procedures for this, and every Office staff member in the building is trained on at least the basics.

M] Is it….is it only for Office personnel? Is it something I could…

[Irene’s face grows into a playful smirk as she hears the hesitation in my voice, leaning her face in her hand.] 

I] You got fifty cents? 

[She leads me into a back area of the office. Lining the walls in storage containers are row upon row of spirit boards, each box with a paper listing the dates each was used and then cleaned, along with the name of the person who did it. There are other items, too - pendulums, bags of runes, spirit boxes like you see on ghost hunting shows, and other devices and artifacts I don’t recognize. Irene’s attention, however, is on a phone booth at the end of the room. It’s clean but battered, clearly old and used. It has no door, but an open front, and above the phone itself is a depiction of a figure on a boat, with one word beside it: “Charon.”]

I] We confiscated these in the 80’s. It’s easier to use this one than have to sign out spirit board, y’know.

M] Weren’t you just complaining about that?

I] I complain about a lot of things, sugar. 

[I approach, standing before the phone in disbelief. Irene senses my hesitation.] 

I] Put in the money, then use the keypad to type out the person’s name. It’ll take it from there. Who you gonna call? Grandma? Mom?

M] My brother. 

I] Ah. Shit, honey.

M] He died in California. Two summers ago.

[As I reach for the receiver, I see Irene’s face freeze in some sort of concern.]

I] H-honey, that…was he in—

M] Yes. 

[I put my hand on the receiver, and I feel her hand on mine. She’s cold. She’s so cold and clammy that I jump slightly and look her in the eyes. Her face is sorrowful and scared, searching me.]

I] Honey…you won’t be able to—

M] You said—

I] If he was in…there’s no one there, sugar. He’s gone. 

M] I know he’s gone, but you said I could—

I] No, no, he’s…if he was…he’s gone, gone. There’s nothing left of him. You can pump quarters into that thing all night long and you won’t get anyone.  

M] H…how? I was…I was on the phone with him when it—

[As I watch, her eyes go wide, and she covers her mouth.]

I] Th-that’s how you remember, isn’t it? Thought you were just…in the Office but you hadn’t known about…that’s how you remember.

[I let go of the receiver. I can’t feel my fingers. I’m shivering, but not from the cold.]

M] I know how I remember. What I want to know is why everyone else forgot.

[londonfog-chan]

Eddie Munson x Reader: Ulterior Motives

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+. Mentions of smutty things and pot. Also mentions of being high if that doesn’t sit right with you. Please use your better judgment and be safe out there with edibles y’all.

I fucking told you all this shit would happen one day. I told you I was working on that Ulterior Motives fic. Here it is babes.

***

It was the sexy beat of the drums that probably caught you off guard.

“Baby…”

The wet sound of his tongue against your neck intermingled with the sinful sounds blaring on the television. You tasted like Betty Crocker chocolate.

And then the keyboard came… Maybe a Yamaha or Lowrey.

The sexy percussions…

“Baby…?”

He couldn’t hear you, fumbling for the fly of his jeans as your underwear went sailing over the couch. An unintelligible groan rippled through his throat as the actress on the flick began to sound off, and then the vocalist came on…

“-ing in yo… yes make me realize...”

“Eddie get off I can’t hear!”

You pushed Eddie Munson off you abruptly and his head smacked hard into the coffee table, making him yelp in pain.

Clutching the aching part of his skull and ruffling the messy waves of his brown locks, he looked indignant to see you crawling out from under him on all fours. Your pathway was clear ahead: straight for the glow of the television that beckoned in the dark room like a forbidden idol against the teal carpet and wood panels of your family’s home. The haze of pain sadly didn’t allow him to admire the curvaceous view he currently had of your behind as you crawled on hands and knees. Which was a shame, because you were clad in nothing but his Black Sabbath shirt, and the view from the back was spectacular.

But for you to push him off that quickly… Maybe he did something wrong?

“I’m sorry!” he began quickly apologizing, pulling up his underwear and zipping the fly of distressed Levis quickly as though someone had just walked in, “Sorry! I guess I just got carried away and I thought you wanted…”

“Shhh!”

Eddie froze. His face contorted further into worry. He thought you were going to tell him you heard the characteristic car door slam of your mother’s 1979 Dodge Aspen from the adjacent garage. Evidently the last thing on your mind was hearing anything except for the television. You were pressed against the speaker, trying to listen in to something, although he doubted it was the wet noises or the groaning currently playing out.

Guilt and dread filled his chest. It was all going to shit. This had all been his idea and the whole experience had been one long string of bad luck altogether.

Originally it was a simple plan concocted after you finally passed Mr. Mundy’s remedial math final with a C. Weeks of struggling through understanding your homework and your boyfriend’s high proficiency help finally paid off. Eddie had taken you out to Palace Arcade to spoil the shit out of you with as much time as you wanted on the new Elvira pinball machine, but he felt that treat was just too tame in comparison to achieving such a big goal. Considering Mundy was the last obstacle standing in your way for graduation with him, Eddie thought of something more enticing to welcome you into the ranks of those who would walk for their diploma.

He'd proposed the idea when you called him to tell him your mother had to leave for a few days on business. A different scenario was pictured then: a fun night in with a sleepover at your place with some greasy burgers and crinkle cut fries from Big Top, homemade Munson Special Treats, and a suspiciously obtained copy of one of his favorite porno flicks, Angels of Passion, for the evening’s viewing pleasure. Concluding the evening with a stoner’s nightcap and eating everything the two of you could get your grubby hands on afterwards.

It had been going well up until you flipped out on the shitty music.

“Baby… are you ok?” Eddie asked, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up.

He got scared when you didn’t respond at all. Hardly acknowledging he was there.

“Oh fuck me Freddy… Green out babe? You’re not having a bad one are you?!” He asked, his heart racing with fear. “Was it too strong for you? I told you to tell me if you started feeling-…”

“SHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

You turned around with a scowl, putting your finger to your lips as you shushed him harshly. Whether it was Eddie’s ‘special treats’ working their magic or it was the actual shitty pop that Eddie hated, you were simply unmovable. The tune wasn’t Eddie’s style at all, then again if he was watching an adult film he wasn’t really paying attention to whatever out of tune noise the director chose for music. But you seemed fascinated.

You hummed softly along to it, and when the scene ended, you immediately rewound the tape.

“Woah… ok, what are we doing here baby? What are you listening for?” he asked, crawling over to sit next to you as you worked the Betamax.

“What is this melody?!” you asked, using a mocking British accent that you often took on for your rogue character during Hellfire’s current Battle for Baldur’s Gate Campaign.

“… the shittiest stock music known to man?” Eddie responded, and it took him a while to formulate a coherent answer that was both kind and not outright laughing at you, “It’s porno music babe. If it ain’t metal it means nothing to us.”

“Holy fuck…” you hissed through your teeth, “This song… it… it’s really fucking awesome?!”

Okay… Now what the fuck else were you eating besides badly made pot brownies from Uncle Wayne’s tiny kitchen?!

“… You’re kidding, right? Baby… it’s a POP song! Since when do we listen to pop?! Bad pop at that, some of the shittiest music imaginable and you’re here acting like it’s Mr. Crowley.”

Eddie was flailing his arms, almost hurt with you for turning against his strict metal only code in his presence. Normally you had varied tastes, and he tolerated it to a point; the only rule was nonmetal did not exist in your shared van, but anything goes on your Walkman where you could plug in your headphones and Eddie could blast something else on the cassette deck of his 1971 Chevy Van.

“Yeah that’s it… you’ve had way too much.” Eddie said, beginning to try and pull you away from the television, “No way would you find this crap enjoyable if you weren’t completely baked and tone deaf.”

“Eddie no, you don’t understand this is… how the fuck is a porno song this good???” you hissed to yourself.

It had to be the brownies… Had to be… What the hell else could it have been?! Pulling at his hair, Eddie reasoned you had to have eaten too much against his advice. Admittedly he’d bitten off a little more than he could chew today as well, and he could feel it settle in the longer he tried to pull you away from the tv. He usually could pull off pregaming a joint before a treat and still maintain some modicum of law and order of the two of you, but you’d never done this before. You had insisted earlier you would be fine, but he suspected you had bitten off more than you could chew. Definitely on the verge of a green out if your taste in music was declining this badly.

“Eddie this is so good… how the hell did they get like actual musicians to perform for a porn?” you asked, almost desperate. “I wish I could hear the rest of it… if this stupid bitch wasn’t moaning her little bimbo head off…”

“Sweetheart, that’s the whole point of the flick…” Eddie said, holding you against him as he looked deeply into your eyes. “It’s just something to have on in the background while the lead gets plowed like a cornfield. Doesn’t have any other kind of special meaning beyond that.”

You weren’t even paying attention. Completely transfixed, possessed even, as you began to hum along with the song, shaking your backside slightly with the beat. When you began to sing, Eddie had a moment where his brain began to short circuit. You had quite a captivating voice, deep and contralto, although he could never convince you to sing for him beyond screaming along to Rainbow in the Dark while parked out at Lover’s Lake.

“… everyone knows that… ulterior motives… what the hell did he say…?” You muttered, trying to follow along with the lyrics.

You rewound the video at least eight times, each time ignoring Eddie complaining and trying to get you to stop. The music was so bad, he didn’t even notice that after a while, he started feeling like maybe he’d also had a little too much. Shit! He definitely fucked up and pregamed a little too much in anticipation of your sleepover. He should have been paying attention. There was a point where he’d thought he’d rolled tobacco and not the reefer, and cautiously ate a little more of the brownies when after an hour he hadn’t felt the high, but he certainly could have just checked better and stayed with eating only half.

Each time you rewound the tape, you learned a little more of the song, until you perfectly memorized the lyrics that you were able to hear.

“Oh my god Eddie…” you said, completely out of your mind. “Holy shit… I think this is the best song ever written?”

“Jesus H. honey… What, are you a little preppie cheerleader that listens to Madonna now? You a jock?!” There wasn’t much lyrical genius that he could make out above the obnoxious moaning of the actress currently being engaging in the illicit acts. “Listen babe, let’s forgo the porno, okay? I’ll put on our album instead and we’ll listen to real music. You want that baby? I know you love Holy Diver?”

“Eddie just… Just trust me… ha… haha…” you suddenly had a fit of giggles, excited and tickled that you were able to learn the lyrics so quickly. You could hardly talk. And Eddie could hardly even get himself together enough to just shut the damn tv off.

But what happened next suddenly changed everything: you stood up quickly, and began swaying.

“Oh good God above now you’re dancing, babe, come back here…!”

At first Eddie scrambled to his feet, he was afraid the love of his life was going to fall and crash into the entertainment center, but you seemed to really be dancing, following the rhythm fairly well for being baked out of your mind. Your dance was sloppy, wild and reckless, you gyrated your hips mostly, dancing like you were the only one in the room.

Eddie froze. He was almost transfixed, more so on the way you danced rather than the fact that you were transfixed on the song still.

“Eddie watch just… just listen to it again…” you stopped to have a fit of laughter.

“I don’t like this...!” he said, more cautious than curious at this point.

“Eddie! Just trust me! Let me listen to it again, one more time…! Please?”

He hesitated. Every fiber of his being screaming about the dangers that having both of you out of your minds could cause. The logical part of his brain screamed danger, saw it lurking in the sharp corners, odds and ends and angles of the room. He should get you both to bed before one of you got hurt. He should be the responsible one for once in his goddamned life instead of being the bad influence…

“God dammit…” he growled, wiping the final remnants of shame from his face. “Fine. One more time, and then we’re shutting shit down.”

You couldn’t press rewind fast enough. The scene began all over again with the drums, a soft ‘oh yeah’ from the blonde star being worked over by some stud, honestly at this point Eddie had seen the blonde get railed under the giant Coca Cola poster so many times and was getting so high as time marched on he couldn’t even find it in himself to get hard. He was utterly desensitized to the scene, until he saw you begin to dance again, and you were looking at him like you were starving.

“Something in your eyes makes me realize… how strained this feels...” your voice was smooth, a low alto so unlike anything he’d heard in his life. Although you weren’t practiced, and still very high, something about the way you seemed to just be enjoying yourself, letting loose… through the floating giddy feeling creeping up on him, Eddie was just completely captivated watching his beautiful lover have unabashed fun dancing to terrible music.

You reached out to Eddie, fingers beckoning him to dance with you, hips swaying as you continued to sing along.

Now how could he resist you like that? All hot and bothered, needy for him, beckoning him in for a dance…

He moved automatically in, moving slightly to the beat as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressed against him while singing the chorus, sweet little voice softening when you sang ‘tell me the truth’ in a cadence that lilted up at the end, as if you were trying to flirt with him. It was actually very endearing… and Eddie was finding the longer the song went on, he didn’t actually mind the song so long as it was you singing to him.

The longer you danced together, closely pressed against one another, the greater the intensity of the passion was as the raw sexual tension built up. You slowly slid your hands down Eddie’s body, massaging and teasing him as you then slipped your hands into the back pockets of his jeans. You gave him a firm, loving squeeze. Your eyes were watery, squinting up at him in the dark, but to him you looked like an angel.

It had to be the sounds from the television getting to you both on some subconscious level, because the next thing he knew Eddie was being pulled backwards until you both hit the couch, Eddie pinning you to the cushions as you continued to dance, swaying and moving against one another. He didn’t know when it started happening, just knew that at some point the Levis were pooled at his ankles and there you were. Surrounding every sense all at once. Buried in warmth. He was so consumed by a passion that burned hot and heavy, following a rhythmic pattern of give and take, soft and wet, hot and heavy all at the same time, the once terrible music becoming a symphonic masterpiece as you and he made music of your own.

When he pulled away from you, after the most earth shattering peak of enticement, he noticed you were staring at him with stars sparkling in your eyes.

“Best song ever written, right?” you asked, mouth hanging open as you both panted in the aftermath of love.

“Yeah…” he breathed, trying desperately to catch his breath as you took it away with your beauty. “Best song ever written babe…”

[wekiamo]

fell harder pt. 3

skeet ulrich x fem!reader

a/n: i js wanted to make a skeet gif but i ended up watching the full panel from fanx cause i love jamie and skeet sm. anyways have fun! 😁

warnings: swearing, fluff, not proofread.

it’s 6:20 pm, you’re in the living room waiting and dave’s still not here to pick you up for dinner. you’re starting to get anxious again, thinking about how would everyone there react if you showed up late. someone’s first impression really matters, you think.

you take your phone out of your purse to check possibly a dave’s new message, and there really is one

“I’m really sorry y/n, but I won’t be able to pick you up! I’ve got some familly stuff going on here and if I’m lucky, I’m going to be late for dinner. I may call you an uber, how about that?” 6:17 pm

“shit” you mumbled, and continued “i was really excited for the first meeting people inside a car idea”

you start typing.

“oh it’s alright dave dw about it! i hope you’re okay!” 6:20 pm

“poor dave” you say out loud, talking to yourself genuinely worried about the guy. you know damn well how it is when you have issues with your family, especially your dad. you were often arguing with him, because- whatever, you don’t even want to think about it.

you sit there for a minute or more thinking about what you’re going to do now. you’r really not in the mood for driving, and you have this paranoia that if you drive when you don’t want to you’ll get in a car accident.

“i guess imma go call an uber or something.”

“hell no, did i really uninstall uber? when did i do that?” you ask yourself, in a frustration tone. you open the app store quickly and when you’re about to look for the app you get a message.

“Howdy 👋” 6:22 pm

an unknown contact.

“howdy? who says that?” you think, giggling to yourself.

you start typing a response, once again

“hello, who is that?” 6:22 pm

“Tom Cruise, babe!!!” 6:23 pm

you think to yourself for a second. of course that’s not tom cruise, but you decide to joke along

“omg tom cruise i love you so much can you give me an autograph?” 6:23 pm

“No” 6:23 pm

“why? ☹️” 6:24 pm

“Because I’m not Tom cruise.” 6:24 pm

“i had no clue” 6:24 pm

“seriously now, who is it?” 6:24 pm

“It’s Skeet, y/n” 6:25 pm

oh.

that makes a LOT of sense - skeet would definitely say “howdy”

you scratch your throat before sending another message. you laugh at yourself, it’s not like you were going to talk with your voice.

“oh hi skeet! what’s up?” 6:25 pm

“Just checking up on you. Dave told me you need a car ride, is that so? 🤨” 6:26 pm

oh if you didn’t like dave before, you definitely do now.

“yeah, actually i do need one!” 6:27 pm

“I don’t care 😂” 6:27 pm

“sir, you’re 53, stop acting sassy” 6:27 pm

“Haha, funny! I can pick you up, just send me the address.” 6:28 pm

“what if you’re going to kidnap me?” 6:28 pm

“You’re annoying. I wouldn’t kidnap you.” 6:28 pm

“ok mr. cool” 6:29 pm

you send him your address, exchange a few more messages and then wait for him.

you make your way to your room again. you’re bored and he’s probably going to take a while, so you decide to open youtube and watch any video you find.

“is youtube watching me?” you say, realizing that the first video that shows when you open the youtube app is called “Skeet Ulrich ‘Scream’ 12/6/98 - Bobbie Wygant Archive”.

you click on it, out of pure curiosity about the content. skeet ulrich’s new name is content.

“this man was always fine, it’s so unfair for the other guys” you say out loud as you watch the video.

when he laughs with his beautiful smile, you fold.

you stop your movements quickly, telling yourself “no. he’s 53, y/n, stop. that’s embarrassing”

you keep watching the video for a few more minutes, until you hear car noises.

you hear a honk sound followed by a “y/n, i’m here!”

you turn off your cellphone and check yourself in the mirror for a few moments one last time. you’re wearing a basic agua green tube dress. it was not short, but not too long too. it was right in point.

you grab your purse, getting out of your house to see skeet leaning on his car, waiting for you with a smile on his face.

“hey tom cruise” you greet him jokingly, walking to the car

“hello, fan! i can give you an autograph now”

“maybe later” you say as you stop to stand in front of his car and he opens the door for you. “such a gentleman” you say sarcastically as he closes and walks to get in the driver seat.

“you look amazing, y/n” skeet says, putting on his seat belt, with his eyes not leaving off of you.

“thanks tom. you look really good too” you say, putting on your seat belt too. “nice car”

“you like it, kid?” this nickname.

“yeah. it’s minimalistic, i like it”

“i can let you drive it some day.”

“really?”

“no” he says, laughing at his own response.

but you roll your eyes at his response.

you and skeet keep talking and singing to music until you get to the restaurant. it’s not a cheap place, but not expensive too - it’s perfect for hanging out

skeet waits for you get out of the car then he does too. he walks up to you and intertwines his arms with yours. you step in the place and you’re already listen to some pop music. you love food places with music going on, it’s so much more fun.

“have you met them before?” you ask skeet

“yes. they’re right there” he points to a table with 6 people, laughing between them.

you both walk up to the table, arms still intertwined. you let go and greet them

“hi, i’m y/n” you say, as you greet all of them individually with a handshake.

“hey how you doing man?” you hear skeet greeting one of them, just after you do too.

when you greet melissa, she starts

“i’m melissa!” she tells you, as if you’re not a big fan of hers already. “this is mason, this is jenna, this is jasmin, this is steve, this is james, this is caroline, this is madison, and this is michael.” she says, pointing to everyone as she speaks.

“sorry, can you say that again?” skeet asks melissa ironically, tilting his head.

everyone laughs.

“so… are you guys a couple?” jasmin asks you and skeet out of nowhere

“actually, we met yesterday” you answer her

“and you already giving her rides?” jasmin asks skeet, eyeing him now

jenna slaps the girl’s arm not too hard and you can hear a little “ow” leave her mouth.

“dave!” steve shouts when

“hey guys, i’m sorry i’m late” he says, walking up to the table’s direction.

he gives you a handshake “y/n, right?” he asks “mhm! and you’re dave”

“that’s right. and skeet!” he greets him with a handshake aswell. “it’s nice to see you both in person for the first time”

“is it better at home now?” you ask him, quietly

“it is. let me tell you what happened”

the night goes on.

—

everything about this night was amazing: the food, the topics and how you guys literally talked about everything, the laughters, the music, and how everyone was so energetic and excited.

you’d love to hang out with them more often. but it’s past 10:30 pm and you’re a little… drunk. and when you drunk, the effects on you are different and you have no idea why.

first you get really sleepy and wants to sleep everywhere. and then, the alcohol actually hits you. you start saying what you shouldn’t say, confessing what you don’t wanna confess and it goes on.

“hey, y/n. let’s go home. wake up!”

“oo someone’s worried with their girl here” jasmin teases and everyone looks.

“c’mon, y/n.”

“that’s not going to work, mate. you gotta carry her” madison stated.

“hmm look who’s going to-”

“don’t even.” skeet cuts jasmin off before she teases him again, making everyone laugh, in a drunk way. he feels guilty of people thinking you’re with him because he’s so much older, but that doesn’t stop him from taking care of you right now.

[taleeater]

Dangerously Stupid

Part 1

I wrote this half asleep at 3am and have not proof read this at all, I’m so sorry.

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Donatello x reader

Pronouns: Gender neutral

Warnings: fighting, blood, injury, not proof read

Summary: You watched the turtles stop the Foot from robbing a bank one night and step in to save Donatello while he’s down. What will happen next?

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Two months. You had lived in New York City only two months before you got caught up in a Foot Clan attack. Just your luck.

You were walking home late from your new, and already shitty job, when you heard loud banging noises from a closed bank up the road. Crossing to the other side of the street as you approached the building, you heard a loud crash of glass and paused in your steps. Waited, and listened. A robbery?

You didn’t have another second to process that thought when suddenly a loud explosion erupted from the building, the shock sending you stumbling back and falling on your butt.

Brick and concrete were strewn across the street, thankfully not being launched far enough to hit you. But then you noticed something from the smoking hole in the building. A quick flash of movement, the sound of a thud and a loud shout. Eyes wide and stunned, you watched as several people in black tactical gear were thrown yelling from the hole in the building out into the street. They had swords?? And guns. They had guns.

Adrenaline kicked in and you scrambled to your feet and rushed for cover in the closest alley way. Shit. Dead end. Quickly creeping back to the entrance you peaked around the corner to the open street. The thugs had started to recover slightly and were raising to their feet, looking around quickly like they were being haunted and drawing their weapons. If you ran out now they would surely see you, so you stood still and watched for an opening.

Suddenly, something large climbed out from the smoking building and the men quickly aimed and fired their guns at it.

Your eyes shot open in horror and brought a hand to your mouth to stifle your gasp as you recognized too late that it was a person- or so you thought. The large being quickly turned around as the bullets came and you watched in disbelief as the bullets bounced off their back. What was that, a shell?! The smooth hard panels reflected light from the street lamp and the flashes from the guns.

A loud thud and a grunt of pain brought your attention back to the thugs. Another large being had dropped down from above and landed behind the men in tactical gear, knocking back two of them and in a flash of metal, sliced a gun in half. This one was a bit closer to you. From what you could see, they were bald… and green? Much like the other guy. You noticed he was wielding two katana, and was making quick work of the thieves.

The other green guy by the building had now recovered and was running over with a rageful battle cry to assist in taking out the last of the goons.

But to your surprise, more people were thrown out from inside the building with a cheerful shout of ‘booyakashaaa!’ and a third large green man jumped out from the building. This one was cheering and swinging around what looked like nunchucks in a flourishing display and made a cool looking pose.

Now you were just feeling comically confused. Your eyes narrowed to observe the orange band around his eyes and take in his outfit, which looked like hard armor on his front and… jean board shorts. Mouth drawn in a tense line, your brain helpfully concluded that these guys were just really weird green body paint wearing commando-type jock vigilantes. Or you just hit your head when you fell back from the explosion and didn’t notice. Either way, you felt yourself relax and mentally shrugged, seeming as the weird giant costumed turtle-looking guys were taking out the bad guys with guns. Maybe you could get home soon and address whether you were hallucinating or not.

It seemed like the battle was just about wrapping up, when suddenly another masked vigilante appeared from inside the building. He quickly pushed the orange one away and shouted “Get back!” just as a second larger explosion burst from inside the building. You ducked for cover as more brick and mortar rained down from the building, and watched as the purple masked vigilante was thrown harshly from the building out into the street. He landed with a groan on his side, not too far from your hiding spot. You could see his shell was equipped with old recycled looking tech, and a long metal pole he seemed to have dropped was laying not too far from him.

“DONNIE!” The three other shelled vigilantes yelled, and started to book it towards their fallen comrade, when suddenly a black van came speeding down the street and rammed into the back of the red masked guy, sending him hurtling forward as the car came to a screeching halt. The doors flung open and more thugs with swords jumped from the car and started to attack the blue and orange masked guys.

You shrunk back more in your hiding place, afraid they would spot you. But then the sound of another car door opening caught your attention. The tech turtle guy was still in your line of sight, unconscious in the street. A woman with black hair and a red streak appeared before him. She pulled out her katana and raised it above her head and prepared to strike-

“NO!!!”

In a flash, you had leapt out from the alley and sprinted into the street. You weren’t thinking, moving on pure instinct as you stood defensively over the prone form of the turtle man and raised up your arm to block the swing of the sword. Somehow, you managed to block the woman’s strike. Your forearm braced against the wrapped handle. The women stared back at you in shock, then turned cold at your interference and doubled down the power in her grip. That’s when you noticed the sharp pain shoot through your shoulder. You groaned as your arm trembled with the strain of the woman still pressing down against your blocked swing. You may have stopped the sword from reaching the vigilante, but you did not have the power to stop the blade from cutting into the flesh of your trapezius.

The woman angrily pulled back, dragging her sword more through your shoulder and you cried out in pain. You stumbled into a crouch in front of the downed turtle, gripping at your wound while she recovered her form. To your horror, she readied to mercilessly strike you again when suddenly, the red masked vigilante appeared from the side and bodily rammed into her, sending the woman flying into the hood of the car in revenge.

“Eat that.” you heard him grumble while he rolled his shoulder. The large red masked turtle turned his attention to you and his eyes regarded you steadily. You were panting lightly and held his eyes for a moment before you both heard the quiet groan come from behind you. You quickly turned around, and saw that the purple vigilante was starting to come around. You placed your free hand lightly on his shoulder as his eyes fluttered open, leaning down a little to get a better look at his face.

“Hey, are you alright?” You asked him. Now that you were this close, you noticed the shape of his face was quite different, and the smooth skin under your hand didn’t feel like paint. You tried not to think too hard on it.

Behind you, Leo jogged over towards Raph while Mikey finished tying up the last of the Foot. Upon seeing a human crouched next to Donnie, he shot Raph a questioning look, to which the red turtle simply shrugged. Leo turned his attention back towards you as Donnie started to pull himself up into a sitting position, and noticed the blood seeping through your fingers clasped on your shoulder.

His eyes widened and rushed over to the human and his brother. “Hey, you’re bleeding-!”

“Wha…?” Donnie was still only half conscious. He thought he was dreaming, opening his eyes to such a beautiful person looking down concerned at him. Carefully, he pulled himself into a sitting position and was startled by his older brother running over to him in concern. At first he though Leo was talking about him, and glanced down at himself quickly to check for any open wounds, but when he found nothing he looked up and saw where the leader’s eyes were leading and found the spot where your hand was pressed over the bloody spot on your shoulder. “Oh dear, let me look at that….” Donnie’s brain fully woke up and he quickly shifted into doctor mode, gently taking hold of your arm to pull your hand away from the wound.

You had shifted your attention and were carefully regarding the blue turtle that had rushed over to crouch next to you, when you were startled by the sudden contact of a large hand enclosing around your wrist. You made a little yelp of pain as your hand was pulled from the bloodied wound, and when you turned back to look at the purple vigilante, your breath caught in your throat by the intense golden eyes staring at you.

Raph came to stand behind you and Leo to overlook the inspection of your wound. “Karai tried to slice up Don while he was down, but this kid jumped in and stopped her.” He supplied a bit gruffly. Raph regarded the small human with mixed feelings. He didn’t wanna trust them, but he had just witnessed this total strange swoop in outta nowhere and save his bro.

The expression on Leo’s face shifted to surprise, eyeing Raph to check he was being serious before turning back to regard the bloodied wound this human had sustained in defense of his brother. He opened his mouth to thank you but was cut off-

“Donnie!! I found your glasses!! -Woah! Bro! Who’s the pretty face?” Mikey chimed in and came rushing over excitedly to join the party.

Donnie was focused on carefully inspecting the wound, and trying his best not to overheat under the gaze of the beautiful stranger whose shoulder he was carefully prodding. The small human flinched suddenly with a small cry of pain when he pulled at the skin a bit to check the depth of the cut. Donnie hissed and pulled back. “Sorry about that- Oh, thank you Mikey.” He reached his hand out and his little bro returned his glasses to him. A little scrapped but still wearable. “Your cut is pretty deep. You should go to the hospital right away. Do you need us to call you an ambulance?”

Donnie was already reaching into his pouch to pull out some spare gauze. His mind was racing a mile a minute, and was trying so hard to stay focused on his task. He didn’t hear Leo and Raph’s exchange. He still felt a little shaken up from the explosion. Slightly bruised, and judging from how flustered and distracted he was feeling, maybe a little concussed. Every time he looked up to meet the stranger’s eyes he felt his heart jump in his chest and his breath catch in his throat. Don decided he just needed to quickly finish patching them up and get home to properly check himself over for injuries.

You, on the other hand, were feeling just as dazed and awestruck at the being that was currently looking you over. You watched this large human turtle work intently on gently applying a pad of gauze over your wound to stem the blood flow, and couldn’t help but feel like you were dreaming. You watched him quietly while your brain helpfully commented on how cute he looked with his taped turtleshell glasses on. But you startled at remembering he had asked you something. “…hm? Oh! A-an ambulance? No thank you. I think I’ll be fine.” You barely noticed the red seeping through the make shift bandage, keeping your attention focused on studying the purple one’s face so you could save it to your memory as he finished up working on your shoulder.

Mikey, who had been waiting intently for his chance to talk to you, had caught on to the tension between you and Donnie. “Broooooo… you feeling alright?” He asked curiously.

Donnie startled at the question and turned away from you, looking a little embarrassed and adjusting his glasses. “J-just fine, Mikey. Maybe a little bruised.” He quickly supplied.

However, a huge grin startled to stretch across Mikey’s face as he connected the dots, and opened his big mouth to tease when Raph’s big hand suddenly smushed into his face and shoved him off away from the scene.

“Come on bozo, give them some room. Let’s go check on the Foot.” Raph had taken pity on Donnie and decided to quickly redirect his hyper little bro. The quicker they could finish up here and head home the better.

Once Donnie appeared to be finished, Leo had gotten up and reached down to offer you a hand up. You were feeling pretty overwhelmed now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off. But you quietly took the offered hand and stood on shaky legs, feeling your head swim for a minute you leaned more heavily into the support of the blue masked turtle as you steadied yourself, your shoulder giving you a painful throb.

Leo kept a careful eye on Donnie as the tech genius pushed himself to stand up after you. As he leader he had to make sure there were no outstanding injuries he had missed on his brother while looking after this stranger. But he noted that Donnie seemed pretty dazed, and wouldn’t take his attention off this person who had saved him. He raised a questioning eye ridge in the direction of his brother and looked between the two, letting a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He reached over a slapped a hand down on Donnie’s shoulder to jostle his attention. “Good work Donnie. Now, Mx….”

“(Y/n)… (Y/n) (L/n). Um… thank you for patching me up…. Donnie, was it?” You had to admit you were feeling a little dizzy from the blood loss. But you really wanted to remember this moment, so you did your best to focus on the purple terrapin.

“Donatello, or… Donnie, if you prefer.” Donnie found himself smiling down at the small person. He felt Leo shake his shoulder a bit and shot him a questioning glance.

“Well, aren’t you gonna thank them for saving your sorry shell?” Leo teased his brother, it was clear to him Donnie was developing a bit of a crush, so he thought he’d torture him a bit. “Raph said they stopped Karai from slicing you a new one. You’re lucky they got to you in time.” Leo said a little more seriously. He realized then just how lucky they were you had been here, or else Donnie might be in much worse shape.

Donnie’s eyes snapped wide in shock, his eyes darting between you and Leo. His gaze landing on the cut he had just tended on your shoulder. “R-Really…? You got this protecting me…? I… th-thank you!” Donnie seemed really flustered. He looked guilty, but also a bit awestruck a random beautiful human off the street had stepped in to his defense, and at this moment, didn’t seem scared of him. You just stared up at him, and when he reached out to take your hand to squeeze in appreciation, you didn’t flinch away. “I-if there’s anything you need, just let us know… d-do you need help getting help getting to the hospital….? I mean- the police will get here soon but once-”

You felt your face heat up at the contact, feeling your heart rate speed up a bit, but quickly remembered why you couldn’t take their advice and quickly cut him off. “N-No! Really, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re okay. I can get there on my own.” You gave him and the other large turtle a reassuring smile, just as you heard the approaching sirens sound out in the distance.

“Okay, time for us to go. Mx. (Y/l/n), thank you for saving my brother. And please… don’t tell anyone about us. We’ll be in touch.” Leo hurried out, leaving your side to tug his brother away from you as Raph and Mikey hurried off ahead to expertly climb up the closest building.

You watched in awe at their skill, seamlessly scaling the fire escape and brick before disappearing above the sky line. But noticed the purple turtle… Donnie, had stopped to turn back and get one last look at you, before disappearing along with his brothers into the night.

“Hm…. Donatello…. I’ll have to remember that.” You said to yourself. You quickly turned to leave, making to start walking home, thankfully in the opposite direction of the sirens. You had no desire to spend the next two hours giving statements to the police and being dragged off to an overly expensive hospital tonight. You just wanted to get home and take care of this cut yourself, and save yourself a decade’s worth of medical debt. Yeah, that’s exactly what you’d do.

You slowly walked down the dark streets and made your way back safely to your little apartment.

And promptly passed out on the couch.

Part 2