#Jane got a pass for that long…

[wxywardsun]

Supernatural’s biggest crime by far was not letting these two meet each other and in this 500 page essay I will b-

[sleepyangelkami]

COSTUME s.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.4K

SAM WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 A/N - this is my first ever time writing about sucking dick, please be nice to me, i'll cry.

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you had to dress up as an FBI agent with the winchester brothers. you felt stupid in a costume but luckily for you, sam really liked seeing you in a skirt.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!sam, sub!reader, oral(s!rec), no p!v sex, size kink, praise kink, fingering, slight manipulation, reader lowk flexible, cum eating, messy sex, squirting, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

"come on, y/n, we gotta go!" you heard dean's not so gentle knock against the bathroom door as you slipped on your last mary jane shoe.

you weren't usually chosen for tasks like this.

usually, it was the winchester boys that did all this kind of thing, you know, fraud? you were usually just the researcher, sitting in the motel room as back up, with a laptop perched on your lap or sitting in baby, the key inside and waiting to be their getaway car.

you weren't really hands on when it came to being a hunter.

you never really had to go out into the real world for much. but this particular demon was snatching girls, twenty something year old girls about your age and appearance. the brothers thought it would be best if another girl accompanied them when investigating the missing girls' roomates and not two six-foot men dressed in suits.

dean's head turned as the creaky bathroom door opened. "I feel stupid."

his eyebrows raised to the tips of his forehead, a look of shock passing over him as he cleared his throat with a breathy laugh. "wait 'til sammy sees you." you just gave him a confused look before grabbing the pretty pink purse that sat on the bed. "aah-ah." you look up at dean confused. "kind of ruins the whole FBI vibe, don't you think?"

you eyed the purse in your hands.

it was a little bag, hardly able to hold anything other than your phone and your lipgloss, not that you ever had to worry about holding your wallet when you had the boys around but nonetheless, a card was wedged in there too.

it was pink with darker pink flowers on it and a ribbon attached to the strap. sam had gotten it for you after a case that you worked particularly hard on.

but dean was right, it didn't fit the whole 'FBI vibe' so you sighed and placed it back on the bed, passing the man an unhappy glance.

sam was outside, sitting in the passenger seat of the infamous impala named 'baby' by dean. he'd packed and started the car, waiting for the two of you when you caught his eye.

or should he say, your outfit.

you often wore pretty little sundresses or blouses and skirts paired together with a pretty cardigan drawn over you. but this? This seemed awfully different to your usual attire.

the white blouse was a little too low for comfort and he could tell by the way you were pulling it up over your cleavage that you agreed. your black pencil skirt was high, too high with a pair of long black stockings that stopped just above your knees paired with the infamous mary janes that you wore with almost everything.

sam was staring.

"what are you wearing?" was the first thing he asked when you and dean got into the car. "what is she wearing?" he turned back to dean.

you owned the stockings and the mary janes before hand but the rest of the outfit? it'd been dean's job to pick it out (which was no wonder you looked like... that.) "dude, she has to play the part."

"yeah of an FBI agent not some sexy stripper cop." sam spoke, exasperated.

"thank you!" you beamed from the back seat before your eyes furrowed. perhaps your boyfriend hadn't been complimenting you at all.

sam passed you a glance through the mirror but was more focused on blaming his brother. how could he let you go out looking like that for everyone to see? how could he make sam watch you while his pants tightened and his bulge was on show?

you thought the interviews went smoothly. you sat down with most of the women. the college women who's roomates had gone missing. dean was too busy fraternizing with the college girls to care about the case anymore and sam... well sam had seemed a little distracted from the beginning.

he couldn't rip his eyes away from you. you sat so perfectly, pieces of hair falling into your face as you nodded and sympathised with the women, asking them questions and jotting down notes onto a little notepad you had found in the backseat of baby.

sam was staring at you, at the way he could see the outline of your boobs down your shirt or the way your plush thighs protruded from the fabric of your stockings.

he was in awe.

it was hard to focus on anything other than you, which is why he had to excuse himself to talk to the headmaster instead of being stuck in a room with you, too close.

he was your boyfriend, it wasn't as if you hadn't done things with him before. on the contrary, you did... many things with sam before. but this was borderline unprofessional, the way he let his thoughts run.

he could imagine sliding his hands beneath your skirt or listening to your little gasps when he touched your skin, barely grazing it. you were so easily led like that, so audible and obedient. he could imagine unbuttoning your shirt slowly, with you sat on his lap while whines fell from your lips, whimpers following shortly after.

he needed to stop thinking.

or better yet, he needed to fuck you until the thoughts stopped.

dean decided he was going to check out the last spot that the college girl had been taken, assuring you both that he wouldn't be back before dinner. but the wink he shot his younger brother told him that he was merely giving you both alone time because he was no stranger to the look in sam's eyes.

and this was when sam got selfish.

honestly, the motel wasn't that far from the college so you and sam opted to walk back. the air turned brisk and for a split second, sam was about to offer you his jacket, the way he always would.

he thought it was rather adorable, watching the way you nuzzled into the jacket that was far too big for your frame. he was six foot five after all, you drowned in anything he let you wear.

but he found himself feeling selfish. he selfishly liked the way your perky breasts looked in that pretty blouse and the way your plush thighs could be seen peeking out from between the skirt and the stockings. he couldn't stop looking, couldn't tear his eyes away and stop his imagination from roaming.

so he let you walk back to the hotel, keeping a slight distance behind you so he could watch your body as he pleased, the only sound between you two being the click-clop of your mary jane heels as you walked home.

when you finally got inside, you felt yourself sigh in thought.

sam had been acting awfully quiet since you'd left and you'd begun to worry that you'd done something to upset him.

perhaps the outfit was too revealing, perhaps he wasn't okay with it.

you turned, an apology already on the tip of your lips. "sam―"

before you could utter the words, sam had grabbed you. his lips pushed into your own, a kiss filled with no passion or love, you could taste nothing aside from thick hunger, half a growl from inside his throat.

you whimpered into the kiss, taken by surprise. you felt him grab at you, one hand slid up your back, the other grabbing the back of your head and a fistful of hair along with it. again, a noise escaped you while sam was mindlessly kicking off his shoes, guiding you towards the bed.

to say you were surprised was saying the least, you hadn't expected this.

when he sat you gently against the bed, he finally broke the kiss. you looked up at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips while he tugged his suit jacket off, not bothering to take off his tie completely but only loosen it so it didn't hang so close to his neck. perhaps now he could finally breathe.

your eyes followed him curiously as he bent down, eyes never leaving yours while you stayed sitting on the mattress. you felt his hands pawing at your legs, slipping your mary janes from your feet. his hands gently rubbed at your sock-covered feet, a little reminder of his gentleness, despite the roughness he was suddenly using on you.

his fingers trailed upwards, following the little sewing thread between the fabric of your stockings. when his hands reached the top, he snapped the fabric back, leaving it snap against your thighs. "you're keeping these on." he uttered, he didn't sound like he normally did. he sounded as if he were pent up, desperate for relief. and he was.

you just couldn't seem to understand why.

"sam, why are you―"

you were cut off. "you're jus' so pretty all dressed up, honey." sam was towering over you as he stood, his large hand falling on your face, practically taking up a whole cheek as he cupped it. "'n i was hard all day thinkin' about this. you do wanna make me feel good, don't you, sweetheart?"

he watched as your eyes seemingly got rounder. "i wanna make you feel good, sammy." you caught your bottom lip between your top teeth and he could tell you were being honest, so honest.

willing to do anything to make him feel good, his sweet sweet girl. he would have cooed at you had he not been busy using his thumb to pull your bottom lip from beneath your top teeth. "don't do that, baby." he watched as you nodded silently. "good girl, i'll give you something to wrap those pretty lips around, don't worry."

he could see your face slowly building a flush, that kind of blush that had him reeling. he liked when he got you like this, all flustered and squirming. which you were, squirming in your seat with your thighs pushing together.

sam was well aware that if he were to reach up your skirt now, he would find a little wet circle sitting on your satin panties.

but instead, he used his hands to pull his own trousers from him. they were sitting tightly on his hips and when he finally pulled them down, you could see his bulge sticking out from his black boxers.

you gulped, hands playing together in your lap. you wanted to look back up at sam but you couldn't seem to tear your eyes away from him, too engrossed by his dick to think of anything else.

"'s how i felt all day, sweetheart." his voice was a whisper now. "you were teasin' me 'n i couldn't do anything about it. do you know how mean that is?"

your eyes snapped up to his, filling with this red glassiness. "w-what?" you didn't want to be mean to sam. he was so good to you, always making you feel good, you wanted nothing more than to be good to him. "'m sorry sammy, 'm really sorry."

"awh, i know, baby." his thumb swiped against your cheek, playing around with your face as if you were dough, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "you just wanna be my good girl, yeah?"

you nodded quickly. "mmhm, wanna be your good girl, sammy, 'm sorry. 'm really sorry."

"i don't know, you were very bad today." his constant teasing as only making your panties wetter, that tone he was using on you, the one that he knew got you all flustered. "if i give you a second chance, are you gonna be good?"

"uh-huh, 'be so good, sammy, i promise. please, ill be good." you were begging now, eyes as big as saucers and lips wet.

he didn't bother pretending to think about it, he just leaned down, so far that his face was in line with yours, lips against your ear as he softly whispered the words, "then get onto your knee's 'n show me."

when sam winchester told you to do something, you did it, no questions asked.

you'd touched him like this many times before, you on your hands and knees on the mattress while he stood on the ground. he thought it was the most comfortable spot for the both of you, seeing as he was so big.

you did as you were told, moving so you were on your hands and knees against the mattress. your hands moved up to his waist, eyes snapping to his. he watched you intently as you brought your lips to his clothed cock, pressing a pretty kiss against it before using your fingers to pull down his underwear.

you did it without fail every single time.

every time he had you on your knees with his cock in your mouth, you started off with that pretty kiss to his boxers. there was something sickly sweet about it that had his eyes already rolling backwards. it was almost an innocent and naive act of love towards him, laced with lust.

you were on just your knees now, pushing his boxers down with no help from him. his dick sprung free and you could see an idle line of precum dripping down his shaft. instinctively, your hand moved up, thumb swiping the precum and smoothing it over the head of his dick. the act alone caused a grunt to leave his lips.

as pretty as you looked, all curious and ready to take your time, sam simply wasn't having it tonight.

he was too pent up from your silly outfit and his own mindless thoughts that he couldn't help it.

his hand fell to the side of your head, cupping it as he guided it forward. you knew what he was asking and you wasted no time in sticking out your tongue and licking a kitten lick up his shaft.

"fuck," fell from his lips. "good girl." mumbling as your tongue swirled over his head and your mouth wrapped around his dick. sam was a huge man and his dick was no exception to that. he was huge, too big to fit in your mouth but you pushed him in anyway, only covering a little more than half.

sam knew he was big too, he couldn't help the quirk of his lips as he looked down at you, struggling to fit his size into your mouth. his hand slowly guided your head further onto his cock, letting your lips wrap around him completely, your saliva coating him. it wasn't until you gagged that he knew this was as far as you could go.

so he pushed you a little further, anyway.

you brought your head back out then in again, bobbing it as you tongue swirled against him. you were no stranger to sucking sam off but every time you did it, you found yourself getting nervous. you wanted to be good for him and you were doing your upmost best.

his pretty thing.

"fuck, baby, you're doin' so good f'me." and sam knew exactly what effect his words would have on you. "mmph, look so pretty with your lips around my dick, sweetheart."

you couldn't help but moan on his dick.

and his lips quirked into that sickly sweet smile.

he knew how easily you got wet, how all it took was just a few words and you were a moaning, whining mess. sam thought you deserved a little more for all you were giving him than just a little praise.

and like said before, sam was huge so he reached over, his torso towering a little above your head and his arm reached out, soothing down your lower back.

this wasn't the first time sam had pulled something like this. you knew what to do, stomach sinking onto the bed as you rolled your ass into nothingness, wanting to create some kind of friction while your mouth continued to slowly melt around him, licking and sucking, eyes closed as one hand pumped the part of his dick that your mouth couldn't reach.

you felt his fingers tracing the outline of your satin underwear, pulling up your skirt so he could gain access.

you made a noise of complaint, knowing that if he touched you, you wouldn't be able to focus properly on touching him. sam only used his free hand to push your head onto his dick and make you gag again.

he liked watching you fall apart, especially with his dick stuffed in your mouth.

he loved watching the way your body had to bend for him to be able to stick his fingers into your gaping whole, watching as you desperately rolled your hips, wanting him him him. you wanted to feel him. taste him. smell him. he was all consuming, you wanted him to take over your every sense.

and he always did, without complaint.

you were wet, undeniably so, he could feel it through the satin material that he pulled back, getting access to your aching pussy. "there you go, sweetheart, tha's it." while easing two fingers into your hole.

you felt like a slut.

he had you completely and utterly full.

"'s that nice, baby? y'feel so warm." both with your mouth against his dick and your soaking wet hole. "you're so pretty for me, you know that, angel?"

he knew you couldn't respond, only whining and whimpering against his throbbing cock. "you're my good girl, aren't you?" he felt you whine, vibrations spreading through him and he also felt your pussy squeeze against his fingers. he grinned at that. "you like that, honey? like thinkin' about how you're my good girl, yeah? all mine, baby, you're all mine."

and you really were. before sam, you wouldn't look at a boy sideways let alone be like this.

you groaned into him, ass rolling against his fingers while your own free hand moved down. you continued sucking his dick while using your nimble fingers to play with your clit.

and that was enough for sam to let out a moan. "oh, baby, you look so pretty playing with yourself while―shit―sucking my cock."

your eyes rolled back, feeling of pleasure coating you while your soft lips bobbed up and down, fingers tracing him and yourself.

"'m gonna cum, sweetheart." a warning, though he knew you wouldn't move anyway. "you gonna be a good girl 'n cum on my fingers while you suck my cock, huh, baby?"

he felt you absentmindedly nod, too fucked out to think straight while feeling a familiar knot deep in your stomach.

your whines got louder and he felt himself nearing the edge. the sight of you, blissed out while sucking his cock, his fingers stuffed into your hole making you feel all full... he couldn't help but let go.

at the same time, he felt your gummy walls clenching around his fingers, wet juices sliding down his hand while spurts of squirt left your pussy every time his fingers pumped in and out of you, riding out your high.

"good girl, good girl. that's it, baby. oh fuck. yeah, my good girl. there you go." he was in awe, watching you squirt around his fingers, the wet feeling as it spurted out from your pussy, decorating the bedsheets in your juices while your pretty socks got ruined in the mess.

when he finally finished, he pulled his fingers out of you, letting you lean back as you parted your lips to show him his cum all over your tongue, spread messily in your mouth.

his hand was on your face, eyes strained on your mouth as he watched you close your lips and swallow like the good girl you were, swiping his thumb against your bottom lip.

he pushed his two fingers into your mouth, letting you taste yourself. while your eyes rolled back, all fucked out and dumb.

"think we have some time before dean gets back, yeah?" eyes already scanning your body and letting his imagination get the better of him.

he just watched your blissed out face nod, cheeks flushed. "mmhm hmph."

he wasn't done with you just yet.

main masterlist/sam's masterlist

[hcneymooners]

dad’s best friend ambessa perhaps ..? :3 i love ur age gap fics ur so talented

⋆ come, and be my baby.

dad's best friend!ambessa x f!reader. men & minors dni. synopsis: you've always been a troubled, searching girl. ambessa, your father's long-time best friend, is your self-ordained solution. cw: age difference, older woman/younger woman, reader is implied to be between 22-24, emotional hurt/comfort, dom/sub, dom!ambessa, sub!reader, you're a little bit of a conniving bitch still love you tho, unhealthy relationship dynamics, codependency, slight emotional manipulation, listen you had to lock in, non-sexual intimacy, pleasure dom!ambessa, rough body play, manhandling, pet names, lesbian sex, dildos, vaginal sex, implied penetrative sex, implied strapping, oral fixation (ambessa), praise kink, mommy kink (specifically mama), implied exhibitionism, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, begging, spanking, impact play, face sitting, desk sex, you guys are definitely freaks but you love love love each other.

notes: hi, honey baby. this might be the most erotic questionable thing i've ever written. i hope you're happy with it. i went a little overboard and a bit non-conventional with the trope. i adore you & thank you for requesting, mami.

two things in this world reigned absolute: that you were glad your life would only be lived once, for you couldn't do this again, and that you were ambessa medarda's favorite girl.

the medardas were a family heavy with conflict, and perhaps that's why the matriarch and your father were best friends. they both were volatile people, sometimes prone to cruelty, with soft spots for certain people that were darkened with rot at the edges—perfumed with the sweet notes of their rage.

you were both of their favorites, and therefore, when your parents got divorced, you'd acted through the narrow scope of a confused and aching little girl and chose your father. once you'd shed that naive nature, you traced your way back to your mother in secrecy. you indulged in hushed phone calls in the middle of the night, timing your exits from your room with the fading beat of your father's boots as you left.

every month, she promised to get you.

the glass would fog with your breath as you waited in that tall, flaking phone booth, each passing car's headlights casting long shadows across your face. you memorized every crack in the booth's floor, every water stain on its ceiling, until they became as familiar as your own disappointment.

you wore the same outfit: thick, wool tights in burgundy tucked under the gleaming straps of your mary janes and layered underneath the dark denim of your favorite jeans. you cradled yourself into a black turtleneck, your hair tamed into two plaits that rested against your neck underneath the fabric. your eyes would be wide and searching, one hand gripping the curved handle of your brown leather suitcase and the other shaking around your well-loved copy of prozac nation.

she never came, but you showed up every time.

one night, a maserati did skate up to that ancient meeting spot, and you straightened from where you'd been dozing standing up. an overly tinted window rolled down, and you were met with the strong gaze of ambessa medarda, whom you hadn't seen since your early days. you didn't remember much, just yellow-tinged memories of being spoiled by her and being picked up and tossed into the bright sky above the farm she owned.

she must've moved back.

at first, she said nothing, just cataloged your most recent iteration of your "going with my mother" outfit and worked her jaw. finally, she leaned over and popped open the door before leaning back and letting you make the choice. embarrassed and teetering on the edge of emotional collapse, you slid in and shut down as she pulled away. this was how you met her again. seventeen and sobbing, emotionally wrought and disappointed from all angles. you probably came off unbearably young, dreamy, and unprepared for the challenges of real life.

it was only later that ambessa revealed that her first thought was that you needed a mother, that you needed her. that you were a girl abandoned and fighting your best against the more experienced hands of life.

⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅

from then on you were her newest daughter, until you weren't. you noticed how 'miss' became 'dear' became 'darling,' each new endearment a step closer across the chasm between you. the way she said your name changed too, softening at the edges like butter left in sunlight.

by nineteen, you were practically sequestered to her house by your personal desires, curling at her hip as you grew into yourself. even now at an older age—still far younger than her—you came home from university only to lay all of your belongings in the warm wood of your makeshift bedroom (the guestroom, really). she taught you to appreciate aged whiskey, watching with amusement as you struggled not to grimace at the burn.

"small sips, little one," she'd say, her hand warm against your lower back.

you learned to love the taste, if only because it meant sharing these quiet moments in her study, the leather of her armchair creaking as she leaned forward to pour you another finger's worth.

you and mel even developed a soft friendship that lessened the tension between her and her mother, tall arguments tempered by the agreement that they would not aggravate your ptsd from the divorce days. sometimes you caught mel watching you both with worried eyes, but you'd grown tired of other people's concerns.

you'd rather have this - ambessa's fingers absently playing with your hair as she read reports, the way she automatically ordered your coffee exactly how you liked it, the subtle possessiveness in how she introduced you to her colleagues.

regardless, you knew that you and ambessa's relationship spun on an axis that could be labeled uncomfortably intimate, maybe even imbalanced. for all that everyone said, you couldn't find it in yourself to be concerned. you regarded her as all that you had, something that wouldn't leave.

she indulged you, kissing your forehead when she came in from a day at work or texting you about what replacements you had wanted for certain items on the grocery list. she rarely called you by your name, always coaxing you forward with firm, warm pet names. they were swollen with affection, a doting '(my) sweet girl', 'baby girl', or 'little one.'

your favorite one was invoked from a spontaneous trip to paris to meet an art collector she'd purchased from, only to return bearing handcrafted soaps and a penchant for calling you 'chouchou.' that stopped about two weeks later, but you wrote it down under your list of desired tattoos. what didn't stop was the way she'd buy authentic silken scarves to tie around your neck with careful precision, her fingers brushing against your pulse point in a way that sent you shivering.

the shift was gradual, like watching shadows lengthen at sunset. one evening, as thunder rolled outside and rain lashed against the windows of her study, she pulled you closer than usual. ambessa’s fingers traced patterns on your skin as she read, and when you tilted your head back to look at her, she met your gaze with an intensity that made your breath catch. the thunder cracked again and the peeking champagne of your bra strap slipped down your arm. still, neither of you moved.

the moment was eventually broken by mel’s surprise of coming home for the weekend. you pulled yourself upright, intending to put together a small plate for her. before you could leave, ambessa strolled up behind you and adjusted the strap, so that it was firm and held tight to the delicate bones of your shoulder.

for a moment, you thought you’d felt her lips right beside it.

⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅

"you're not a little girl anymore," she murmured one night, weeks later, her voice carrying the weight of aged whiskey and unspoken promises.

you were curled in your usual spot beside her, but everything felt different - charged with an electricity that made your skin prickle. you couldn't remember when the maternal comfort of her touch had transformed into something more, but you knew there was no going back.

"i haven't been for a while," you replied, your voice steady despite the way your heart hammered against your ribs. her hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet her gaze, and you saw in her eyes the same hunger that had been growing in your own.

your fingers traced the rim of your whiskey glass, ice long since melted. the study had grown dark save for the amber glow of her desk lamp, catching the silver in her hair like moonlight on water.

you'd noticed her watching you more lately, her gaze heavy with something between concern and desire.

"you remind me of her sometimes," she said quietly, breaking the silence. "mel, when she was younger."

the comparison should have stung, but you knew better. you'd learned to read between her lines, to understand the weight she carried. you were not mel's replacement - you were something altogether different, more dangerous.

you set your glass down carefully, the crystal making a soft sound against the carpet.

"i'm not her," you said, voice steady as you rose from your chair. "i won't leave."

the words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and threat. her laugh was low, throaty.

"no, baby girl. you're nothing like her at all, are you?"

she spoke the endearment deliberately this time, watching how it made you shiver. you'd both been playing this game for months - you with your calculated vulnerability, her with her careful restraint.

you moved to stand behind her chair, hands resting on her shoulders. through the silk of her blouse, you felt her tension, the way she stilled like a prey animal. but ambessa medarda was nobody's prey, and you both knew it.

"i need you," you murmured, the words leaden. you were trying not to sound as crazed as you felt . "and you need someone who needs you."

her hand came up to cover yours, her gold rings dense and cool against your skin.

"you're very clever," she said, something like pride coloring her voice. "i should send you away."

"but you won't." you pressed your lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her perfume - something expensive and french. mango wood and black rose if you remembered correctly, discovered during your illicit investigations of her bedroom. "because you understand me better than anyone. because we're the same."

she turned then, catching your wrist in a grip that walked the line between gentle and controlling.

"the same?" her thumb pressed against your pulse point, counting out the rhythm of your wanting. "you're barely older than my daughter."

"age is just a number," you said, and then laughed at how young it made you sound. "no—that's not what i mean. what i mean is that we both know what we want. we both know how to take it."

the silence stretched between you like spun sugar, delicate and sweet. outside, leaves skittered across the gravel drive, and somewhere in the house, a clock chimed eleven. you watched emotions play across her face - desire, concern, resignation, hunger.

"if we do this," she said finally, her voice rough like aged bourbon, "there's no going back. no playing innocent. no running away when it gets hard."

you smiled, all teeth and triumph poorly disguised as submission.

"i told you," you said, sinking to your knees beside her chair, resting your head against her thigh like you had a hundred times before - but different now, charged with intent. "i'm not going anywhere."

her hand found your hair, nails scraping gently against your scalp.

"my clever, terrible girl," she murmured, and you could hear in her voice that she'd surrendered to this animal between you. "what am i going to do with you?"

you turned your face into her touch, lips brushing against her wrist where her heart copied yours, beat for beat.

"keep me," you said simply. "just keep me."

the study grew quieter still, the only sound was your shared breathing and the distant whisper of wind through bare branches. you'd won, you knew, but then you'd been winning since that first night in the maserati, since you'd looked at her with calculated tears and let her save you. you loved her - truly, deeply, with all the fierce possession of your young heart - but you'd learned from your mother's absence that love wasn't enough. you had to learn how to hold on to what you wanted.

and oh, how you wanted this - wanted her, with her silver-streaked hair and elegant hands and eyes that saw right through you and wanted you anyway.

her fingers tightened in your hair, and you looked up to find her watching you with an expression that made your breath catch. the lamp clicked off, and in the sudden darkness, you felt rather than saw her move. her hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

"stand up," she commanded softly, and you did, letting her guide you until you were perched on the edge of her desk. the wood was cool against your thighs, a sharp contrast to the heat of her body as she stepped between your knees. "are you sure about this?"

your answer was to reach for her, fingers curling into the cotton of her blouse.

"i've never been more sure of anything."

the clock struck quarter past, and the last autumn leaves rattled against the window as she leaned down to kiss you, tasting of whiskey and an affection hard won.

you kissed back lazily, squeezing your thighs together as one of her hands came to direct you by the base of your neck. she slotted the two of you together, lips sliding and grasping at each other between soft inserts of tongue. your teeth seemed to buzz with unnamable energy as she leaned forwards, hands bracing around you, so close to cupping your ass.

you needed her touch, needed to know whether your fantasies had been well-conjured or only pathetic in their imaginings. you’d spent nights tucking your fingers into yourself, trembling quietly as you pictured the shape of her mouth and how it would fit over you.

as if reading your mind, ambessa firmly spread your legs apart with a forceful hand and came closer to you. you let out a weak moan as her teeth scraped your neck, a hand coming to press down on your stomach as if to see how much space she had to fill.

you were so immensely grateful for the flimsy structure of your sleep shorts, the fabric tugged easily down your legs by only one of her fingers. she used that same finger to feel out the shape of your clothed cunt, her throat trembling with a low sound of satisfaction.

you were wet and desperate, wrapping an arm around her broad shoulders so that you could grind against what was now two fingers.

ambessa moved your panties aside with no great effort, sliding a finger into your tight heat. gradually, she built a rhythm inside of you until you were bucking where she held you. after a minute, she slid it out and into her mouth.

“mmm,” she said consideringly. “my babygirl is so sweet for me.”

you’d swallow a boat of fucking blackberries if you had to, choke them down despite your allergies and sealing throat if that meant she’d taste you again.

“ambessa.

she laughed and you saw her eyes glittering in the dark, the light brown so bright with want they seemed gold. it was then you realized you’d never said her first name alone before, and she must’ve realized as well because her hand suddenly clenched around your throat.

“do you remember when you turned twenty and got drunk with those miscreants from the town over?” your mouth twitched at her avid disgust. she could be quite classist. you’d work on that. “you don’t because you practically drank your body weight, but i do. do you want to know why?”

you gasped out a ‘yes’ as she used her free hand to grope the peach of your ass before switching to thumbing at your pebbled nipples.

“i remember that birthday because you stumbled into my room and climbed into bed with me.” you felt dread rising. “you bumped against my back, like a little bunny, and worked yourself into quite the state. and the whole time you kept apologizing. you were saying ‘sorry, mama’, all slurred and saccharine, over and over till you finished.”

you were so hot with shame you could’ve set the house burning. she smiled, slow and teasing, as she pinched your nipple hard. you let out a high moan.

“i liked that.”

you were squirming now, two of her massive fingers back to stretch your pussy.

“i liked it very much. i had to make sure not to wake you as i fucked myself.”

your eyes widened, like two coins, as the words registered. ambessa laughed again and lowered to her knees, yanking you forward so your ass hung off the edge of the desk. she was still tall enough to tower over you, shadowing the sopping mess of your cunt.

with an annoyed roll of her eyes, she pulled her fingers away and reached behind you, returning with a pair of scissors. with two efficient cuts, your panties were hanging in tatters around your hips. your pussy was exposed in all of its pink glory and it pulled apart with a soft squelch as she pushed your thighs up and out, guiding your hands to hold them for her.

she tugged a hair tie from around her wrist, drawing her gray mass of curls into a loose bun. several strands fell around her face, but she only pushed them impatiently behind her ears. you slapped your hand around blindly, eventually flicking on the bright desk lamp.

“i want you to see me,” you breathed, and she cupped your cheek.

“i’ve always seen you.”

and with that, she went down. she started with a long, luxurious lick up your cunt, her lips suckling around your clit as she reached the top. you moaned loudly and dropped your hands from your thighs, raising them to tug and pinch at your tits. she kept your legs open by sliding the bulk of her back between them, sliding back down to lap at your hole.

for someone as rigid as ambessa could be, she was messy when eating you. she didn’t care to savor, not right now. she’d wanted you for what felt like forever, and you wanted to black out beneath her.

she further spread you open, thrusting her tongue into your heat and feeling you clench. back and forth she went, slobbering over the pink of you until you were tearing up. she suctioned her mouth over one of your lips, large and gleaming, pulling away so that it slid from her mouth with a wet extended ‘pop!’. you clutched at her head, rocking yourself into her unforgiving hold. she blew gently over your hole, watched as it fluttered.

“mama, please.”

tenderly, she grazed her teeth over your clit, soothing the sting with her tongue as she sank three fingers inside of you. ambessa fucked you hard and fast, your tits bouncing as you whimpered with a hand over your mouth. a hand came down like thunder on your ass, the crack hard and hot. you wailed and clutched at her, begging her to go faster, to mark you, to swallow you whole.

“there you are, baby girl. tell me what you need.”

“mama, wait—” you shuddered around her crooked fingers, the world turning white as your head grew hazy. “wait. mama.”

“hmm?”

you scrambled at her, pushing her until there was enough space to slide from where you’d settled at her wrist. wobbling, you turned on your hands and knees, pushing your ass up into her face and falling into a brutal arch.

“like this please.”

“anything for my girl,” ambessa said and you shook because you couldn’t see her face but you could feel her voice.

her fingers dove back into you, her mouth joining the effort. you were floating, only briefly aware of the consistent slaps to your ass through the pain ricocheting pleasantly through you. you pushed back, fucking yourself the way you wanted. she let you, steadying you when you began to lose rhythm.

“bessa, i can’t—i can’t see you,” you slurred and she hummed into your weeping pussy.

your stomach grew tighter and tighter, the world narrowing down to the way she slurped and worked into your cunt. you gripped the opposite edge of the desk, extending yourself as your orgasm began to boil over. quickly, ambessa swung herself under you and brought you down on her face. her arms flexed around your stomach, the corded muscle circling you as she moaned into your cunt.

the vibrations set you off. you felt like you were flying, like you were fucking free.

“oh shit, mama. fuuuuckkkk.”

your voice was unrecognizable to yourself, cracking and raspy. time stretched and winded. you knew your legs were shaking, that you’d squirted over her and yourself.

you didn’t know how, but ambessa was undressed now and rearranging you like a doll. you were back up on your knees, but she was draped over you with her heavy tits branding your skin with their warmth and weight. her hair was down and around you; it smelled like her shampoo, a curtain of coconut and cinnamon.

she bumped her hips against you, caught the silicone tip of a dildo again and again against your loose hole. you turned your head and opened your mouth like a baby bird so she could spit into it, stuff her fingers in.

she began to break into you, bullying your cunt into accepting her cock. you did what you always did. you pushed back and let her in.

you only ever gave her what she needed.

⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅

morning light filtered through dense curtains, casting the bedroom in baby pink. you watched your rings catch the light as you stretched - the marquise diamond throwing prisms across egyptian cotton sheets, your simple gold band warm from sleep.

you'd chosen them together - ambessa insisting on the marquise cut for the engagement ring (something as unique as you, sweet girl) while you'd wanted the classic simplicity of the wedding band, a quiet echo of forever.

the bedroom remained your favorite place - all cream linens and dark wood, familiar as breathing. in the mornings, you could pretend time stood still, pressing chapped kisses against her strong bare arms in the quiet before the day began. sometimes you climbed on top of her, sunk as far as you could into the broad helm of her body.

despite the passing years, she remained your most fortified sanctuary.

"baby girl?" ambessa's voice carried from the en-suite, still commanding even wrapped in morning softness.

you could hear the water running; a bath being drawn.

“coming, mama.”

© hcneymooners. ⚚ special taglist: @sugrcookiiee @icespiceluva @16novvs @tnash-tammy @dyk3miffy @iwasholic @absandsevikasgirl @blackdykegirlblogger @fortluocha @neganwifey25-blog @rottngrl3 just pop me a message or comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

[msgexymunson]

The Code

Description: Your very first day at your new school and you've already managed to find a dealer. Not only that, but he is fine. Maybe living with your mom might not be too bad after all. 

Warnings: Making out, fingering, male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex 

A/N: I just wanted some desperate, clingy ‘I need you’ sex so here we are. I loved writing this so much I think this is going to end up in a whole universe just about these two.

6.2k words

Masterlist 

This must be the spot. 

You walk out into the little clearing in the woods. It's private, encircled by trees, with a picnic bench right in the middle. As you wonder who the hell put it there, you take in the quiet. It's bizarre; a minute ago you were surrounded by loudmouth jocks and giggling girls, sneakers squeaking and lockers slamming, but here? Silence, except for the twittering of birds and whispering wind in the trees. 

Perching on the slightly mildewed table top, you dump your bag and jacket on the seat, crossing your legs and picking your fingernails to pass the time. 

A rustle of leaves makes you snap your head up, and you see who must be the most gorgeous guy at this school. Tall, long hair, a narrow little waist you want to wrap your legs around, and judging by his clothes, he's a metalhead too. 

“Hey, you leave me a note?” 

He looks around nervously, circling the table before walking over to you. 

“Yeah, you OK?” 

He smiles, and you rethink your previous statement. He must be the most gorgeous guy in this whole town. Such a pretty mouth. 

“Sorry, it's just last time I got an anonymous note in my locker I got jumped by four jocks.” 

“Oh, well you know what they say, when a boy bullies you they really just have a crush on you.” 

He laughs, tipping his head back. 

“Well these guys must want my fuckin’ babies or some shit!” 

Giggling, you look down, covering your mouth girlishly. Eddie takes the small opportunity to check you out. You look like you've wandered in from a dream. A very wet dream. Little black Mary Janes on your feet, thigh high white socks, and a black and white plaid skirt. The strip of thigh on show is making his pants tighter by the minute. The white t-shirt is a work of art; it seems so innocent, but it's tight enough to accentuate your obvious curves, and the outline of a black bra is peeking through the thin material. He's sure it's purposeful; who wears black under white and doesn't think about it showing? 

You clear your throat and his eyes flick upward to your face guiltily. Not saying anything, you let your little smug smile and raised brow do the talking for you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun. 

After a few seconds of letting him squirm, mostly to see the blush flowing to his cheeks, you give him your name and explain. 

“I'm new here, some girl told me you're the one to go to for weed. Eddie, right?” 

“Guilty as charged,” he replies, bowing at you. Rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with one finger. His grin widens as he stands right in front of you, eyes darting to your lips and back up. 

“So, you got something for me?” 

Eddie plants his hands either side of you on the table, close enough to smell your perfume. It's heady, laden with spice and promise, not the sweet scent he expected. That just intrigues him even more.

Your heads spinning from him crowding your space. His eyes are otherworldly, deep brown, full of such depth and soul that it takes a moment for you to remember to breathe. 

“For you? Of course.” 

He winks, he fucking winks, sending a swarm of insects in a whirlwind in your stomach, then sits down at the bench, slamming a battered tin lunchbox down. He gestures at the seat in front but you swivel on the table to face him, legs crossed an inch or so away from his hand. 

“So, I'll do you a half ounce for… twenty. Cool?” 

He wags a baggy at you and you make a pass for it, but he holds it at arm's length. 

“Twenty?” 

Huffing dramatically, you lean far back to grab your bag from the opposite bench. Eddie holds an arm out, one thrown over his eyes. 

“Cover your, er, modesty sweetheart.”

You realise he means your skirt that had ridden high on your thighs, exposing a triangle of your panties. It was only for a moment, but he saw. He thinks it'll be ingrained on the inside of his eyelids, burned into the back of his brain forever. They're baby pink, yet another surprise. You seem to be full of them.

“Such a gentleman.” 

Plopping your bag in your lap, you rummage through it to find a note. Eddie's eyes widen yet again. Your little denim backpack is covered in patches; Megadeath, Anthrax, Saxon. Just when he thinks he's got you figured out, you throw another curveball at him. 

“Here, twenty.” 

He takes it and exchanges it for the bag in his hands. Squirrelling it away, you smile. 

“Thank you. Fancy a smoke?” 

“Sure, why not.” 

You move to get your newest purchase out again but he waves a hand. 

“This one's on me sweetheart. For the er, pleasure of your company.” 

“Well, aren't I lucky.” Smirking at him, revelling in the pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks, you watch whilst he rolls. 

“So, you're new? When did you start?” 

“Today. Moving in with my mom and my brother for a little while whilst my dad cools off.” 

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, licking the paper with a pointed precise tongue. 

“Yeah. I got suspended, he freaked. Mom wanted her little girl back, so here I am.” 

“Oh really? What did you do?” 

You bite your lip as he passes you the lit joint, and take a couple of hits. 

“What didn't I do?” 

He laughs loudly with you, eyes darting to your chest as it jiggles. Fuck, he's already down bad. 

You make some chit chat, surface level stuff, but it shows you just how easy he is to talk to. He's confident, bordering cocky, but it's belied by the way your flirtatious comments make him blush. 

The joint is long gone. Eddie stands up, getting ready to leave. You want him to stay, you need him to, just a little longer. It emboldens you, enough to make a move. 

“Eddie, what's your policy on kissing clients?” 

He's mid standing when your question gets through to his brain, entirely short circuiting it for a second. 

“Huh?” 

“I said,” you beckon, and Eddie's legs move on their own accord, “what's your policy on kissing clients?” 

He's grinning then, standing in front of you by the edge of the table. As you uncross your legs, his smile only widens, slotting his narrow hips between your thighs. You take one of his hands in yours, examining his rings, before you place it gently on your leg, silently giving him permission to touch you. 

Eddie feels dazed, half expecting someone to jump from the bushes with a camera, declaring this all some elaborate prank. The bare skin of your thigh is so soft, silky smooth. His fingers dance just underneath the hem of your skirt, testing the waters, but you let him. You let him. 

“My policy? It probably goes against the Holy drug dealers code.” He shakes his head sadly, but he's still smiling, and still not pulling away. 

“Drug dealer code? What like, don't get high on your own supply?” You respond cheekily, nodding at the butt of the joint stubbed out on the table. 

Your hands snake around his neck autonomously, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves infinitesimally closer, head bending a little. 

“Yeah, like that. But the thing is,” he says as he moves even closer, whispering, “it's more like… guidelines.” 

“Yeah?” 

It's all you can manage out, breathy and weak, practically quivering at his closeness. 

His nose rubs against the side of yours, mouths almost brushing, as he whispers again, even more quietly, the breath of it diffusing over your parted lips. 

“It's a good thing I like to break the rules.” 

Then his lips are crushed against yours, your strawberry lip balm surrendering itself, finding a new home on his full lips. Your tongue licks into his mouth thickly, laced with want. Eddie responds, exploring your mouth as the kiss turns dirtier by the second. Your chest is smashed against his, thighs gripping onto his hips. 

Eddie's head is reeling at the taste of you and the feel of your body desperately pressed against him. He winds his hand under your skirt to grab your perfect round ass, jamming you even closer. To his delight you moan in his mouth, lips sliding against his, slicked in spit. 

Your heart is thumping so loudly you can feel it in your throat. Or is it his? It doesn't matter, the kiss tearing any rational thoughts away. Snaking an arm around him to dig painted nails into his back, you roll your hips into him, an ache settling into your bones. 

The other of Eddie's rough hands travels audaciously to your chest, palming it over your clothes. You don't pull away, in fact your back is arching, searching for more. 

It's only then that he notices the time on his watch. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking in the way your chest heaves, how your eyes are half lidded, as if you want to devour him whole. 

“Fuck, I'm sorry but I'm late, I really gotta go.” 

Huffing, you pout, and the plumpness of your bottom lip almost makes him say fuck it, screw Hellfire, but he knows he can't. 

“I really, really don't want to go, for the record. Last thing I want to do is walk back into school with a hard on right now.” 

You giggle breathlessly, risking a little look down. He's not lying. And he is packing. 

“Do you wanna come to mine later?” 

It's out of your mouth before you even think of the words, tongue working of its own accord. 

“Are you- for real?” 

You nod comically fast. He just shakes his head, stunned. 

“You know, I'm waiting for a Carrie moment or some shit.” 

“Eddie, I'm not gonna dump a bucket of pig's blood on you, I swear.” 

“Swear? On what?” 

“On, I dunno, on that code thing?” 

He laughs, hands rubbing up and down your sides as if he doesn't want to let you go. 

“You can't swear on that, we just broke it!” 

“Alright then, scouts honour?” 

“You were a girl scout?” 

“No.” 

He laughs again as you purse your lips, deep in thought. Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you hold your hand to your heart, the other forming the devil's horn sign. 

“I swear on Ozzy.” 

Fuck, Eddie thinks he must have made you in a lab. 

“Alright, alright, you best not be using his name in vain.” 

You rummage in your bag, grabbing a scrap of paper and scrawling an address on it. 

“Here. My er, my mom's out for the weekend and my dweeb brothers got some silly club thing then he's staying at a friend's, so…” 

Eddie's eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. If this is just some fantasy and he's finally lost it, then he can deal with that. 

“Right, I will be there. I promise. Wild fuckin’ horses couldn't drag me away.” 

You scrunch the paper into his waiting hand, and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he's apologising again, having to run back to school before the guys send a search party. 

********************

He only gets a chance to look at your hastily written note when Hellfires finished, a hell of a lot quicker than his usual sessions. The guys are put out, complaining about only managing to go for a supply run and deal with some bandits, but for once he doesn't give a shit. 

In his van, he's reading and rereading your note. Maybe he's got it wrong, your messy handwriting is difficult to read after all. Or maybe he was right before and this is all some joke at his expense. 

Hope is what gets him there, that and the traces of strawberry lip balm that still linger on his lips. He pulls up to the house and knocks on the door. 

You answer, still in your clothes from earlier, though Eddie notices immediately that you've taken off your bra. It throws him for a moment, the shape of your nipples singing a melody directly to his dick, but he recovers. 

“You live… here?” He asks, completely surprised. 

“Yes?” The way he says it you almost question if you're the one in the wrong house. 

“And your last name is…?” 

“Henderson.”

“Fuck.” He laughs it out, biting his lip. 

“Is that a problem?” You're entirely thrown by his reaction, but gesture at him to come in, closing the door behind him. 

“Dustin’s your little brother.” He says it like a known fact.

“How do you know Dust for Brains? Wait-” 

You step backwards, both hands held to your mouth in shock. 

“You're Eddie?? The Eddie??” 

“The one and only, sweetheart.” 

“Shit, Dustin does not shut up about you. I thought, well I thought you'd be some nerdy, awkward loser.” 

“Well, I'm a lot of things.” 

Laughs erupt from you in an unstoppable volcano. 

“Dustins gonna kill me.” 

Eddie shakes his head. 

“No, Dustins gonna kill me. How come he's never mentioned you?” 

“He's not exactly my biggest fan. Plus, he probably wanted to avoid- this.” 

Eddie deflates a little, the hope of kissing you again dwindling by the second. 

“If you want me to go-” 

“Oh hell no,” you grab his hand, keeping him there with you, “this is hilarious, he's gonna freak. I can't wait. You wanna drink, or something to eat? Or we can just-” 

“Wait, you seriously don't care?” 

“Nope. You're too hot.” 

Eddie blushes, not used to girls being so brazen with him. Smiling, you tell him to take a seat and grab some beers from the fridge. He takes his jacket off and throws it on a chair. When you return, you're laughing yet again as you hand him his beer. 

“How the hell did I miss that?” You point. He follows your eyes, to the Hellfire t-shirt he's wearing. 

“Too busy staring at my pretty face?” He suggests, winking at you. 

Settling down next to him, you flick the TV on to some random b movie. Nonchalantly, you place a hand on his knee, stroking the little bare patch of skin as you look at the film playing. 

“Maybe I was too busy thinking about what's underneath it.” 

You say it offhand, a casual statement, but it's got Eddie nearly choking on his mouthful of beer. 

“Shit you are nothing like your brother, are you?” 

Turning to smirk at him, you respond, “I fucking well hope so.” 

Then Eddie's thoughts fly straight out the window when your hand lands on his chest, nails raking him through the fabric. Suddenly, the temperature of the room is stifling, or is it just the feel of your body against his? He reaches tentatively to cup your cheek, rubbing a calloused thumb on your chin, eyes boring into yours for confirmation. Breath hitches in your throat; you lean in closer, gaze flickering to his perfect mouth and back up. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me, Eddie?” 

You smirk, but it's wiped from your face immediately by his mouth smashing into yours. It's so forceful you have to fight to keep upright, hand fisting into his shirt as some sort of anchor. 

As you pull away, his eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong. He looks like a little puppy. 

“Easy Eddie, we've got all night.” 

All night? Eddie has decided that he must have got hit on the head today. Maybe he was jumped after all, and now he's in a coma, playing out some elaborate fantasy. 

He settles back into the cushions, swigging his beer and failing to focus on the movie playing, his leg restlessly bouncing. 

You look perfectly at ease, knees curled up on the seat. What he doesn't know is that your heart is pumping blood so fast that you're starting to feel a little dizzy from it, purposefully slowing your breath to keep your calm. 

Once your beer is finished you've decided that enough is enough. A part of you wanted to take this slow; he seemed like such a nice guy, as well as being into your kind of music, and hot as sin. Unfortunately, it seems your pussy has other ideas, already banging its own heartbeat like a dinner bell. 

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He tries to make it sound casual, but he's wound so tight it's almost a strangled noise. Nursing a semi since he saw you in the woods earlier, now it's straining against his jeans in a futile attempt to be near you. 

He looks so damn nervous, and it gives you the confidence you need to swing your leg over his and straddle him. Eager hands land immediately on your hips, thumbs pressing hard to keep you there. 

This time, you lean in. Your kiss is fire, tongue burning hot and heavy in his mouth. Eddie groans into the kiss, rolling desperation from his mouth to yours. He's breathing so hard it's whistling through his nose, clouding your cheek with condensation. 

It almost feels like a competition, both tongues duelling, determined to unravel the other. Lips swollen and blood filled, your mouth tries to keep up with his, spit gathering at the edges. You'd be self conscious about it if you weren't so damn turned on. 

Eddie's hands roam all over, grasping at your ass under your skirt, slipping inside the thin material of your panties at the back, until he runs a thumb just next to your underwear but this time dangerously close to your sex. You moan onto his tongue, your own hands winding into his hair, pulling harshly to spur him on. 

He can't concentrate on the hard tingle your fingers cause to run all over his scalp, not when slips his fingers past the cotton barrier and he runs them up and down your slippery slit. Mind entirely encased in a pink fog of lust, you realise your mumbling in his mouth. 

“Please, please, please-” 

The corners of his mouth turn up at the sound, thumb seeking out your clit to rub circles on and around it, your arousal causing it to slip and slide. You're dizzy, hot all over, pussy aching for something inside. 

Eddie's obsessed with the feel of you, the heat emanating from your cunt, but most of all with the sounds you make. They'd be pornographic, if they weren't so fucking real. Needy, hoarse moans, peppered with little gasps and whimpers that are making his cock twitch with each slip of his thumb. 

Gliding a finger inside, he watches as your head rolls back, a strangled groan falling from your kiss bitten lips. You're practically riding his hand, bouncing your tits so close to his face that he's in a trance. As if you can hear his prayers, you pull your shirt off, fighting with the tight material until you can shake it off your arm. 

He sees the glimpse of a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a dagger directly in your cleavage, which he momentarily thinks is really hot, but then he's gone. Your bare chest is a masterpiece, perfect tits jostling with each bounce of your thighs. He latches his mouth to a nipple, tonguing and sucking on it like he needs it to breathe. In fact he almost forgets to, pulling his mouth off to take a gasping breath and latch onto the other. 

He drags his mouth away when he feels you tightening impossibly hard around his fingers and leans back just in time to see the show. Your climax is violent, grinding into his fingers hard and rough until suddenly you're screaming his name, nails breaking the skin of his neck as you cling on for dear life. Your release engulfs your body in a flash of fire, singeing each nerve and causing you to convulse in his grip. Eddie can barely move, his fingers straining hard to work you through your orgasm, so much so that the tendons of his arm hurt, but he doesn't care. He keeps on curling them until you physically grab his arm to still him. 

His dripping fingers are released with a sucking sound as he grins at you smugly. Not for long though, not with your chest heaving like that and the way you're biting your lip. You yank at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and relishing in the exposed skin by lathing your tongue over his collar bone. 

“Nice tats.” You breathe onto his skin between sucks and nips. 

“Same to you,” he stumbles out in a gasp as a particular sharp bite to his neck shoots a lightning bolt of heat down his spine. 

“You haven't seen all of them,” you reply, nibbling at his earlobe. 

He's never wanted to hunt for tattoos more in his whole life. 

“Fuck, you are a dream.” 

His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, grinding down on his rock hard bulge. Enveloping his lips in another urgent kiss, and another, until you can break away long enough for one word. 

“Bedroom?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ yes.” 

He stands, still holding you, knocking a beer bottle to the floor. You cling to him with your legs as he walks backwards, sending a table lamp flying in the process. It's inconsequential; your head is fighting through a cloud of need, nothing can find its way through but touch and taste. 

In the hallway, he slams your back into the wall, pressing you hard against it as he writhes his tongue in your mouth again. A picture frame falls, you just about hear the tinkling of glass but it's not important. That's tomorrow's problem. 

Unhooking yourself from his clutches for a moment, you drag him by the front of his jeans and yank him into a doorway, gasping for breath, grasping at flesh. You practically punch the lightswitch to turn it on, the thought that you need to see him just about making it through the horny mist. Once inside he barely has a chance to take in his surroundings before you're falling to your knees and undoing his belt with impatient fingers. 

“Woah, baby, you don't need to-” 

“Shut the fuck up Eddie I wanna blow you.” 

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and then compulsively strokes his neck just to keep some composure. If he thinks about your words for a second longer he's sure he'll bust right in his pants. 

You work his fly and pull his jeans and boxers down swiftly, his turgid cock flying free and whacking his stomach, decorating it with a pearl of precum. It feels heavy in your hands as you rub him up and down, watching the soft skin move with each pass, like silk wrapped around a steel bar. 

Taking him into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around his head, licking up its salty sweetness, sucking lightly. Eddie groans, torn between covering his eyes and holding you in place, so he does a bit of both, until you start taking him deeper and deeper without gagging. 

His eyes snap open to see you staring straight at him, nose nestling in his coarse pubic hair, eyes wide and wet and innocent, mouth stretched full of him, and he feels his balls tighten. 

“Fuck stop stop, please.” 

He practically bends in half to get you off of his dick. Giving him a smug smile of your own, you delicately wipe the spit gathered at the corners of your mouth with a thumb. 

“You OK there champ?” 

“You are gonna kill me sweetheart.” 

He's heaving, trying to control his breath, eyes darting from your face, to your bare chest and back up. Standing up, you unzip your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you in your tiny pink underwear with a very noticeable wet patch, and your thigh high socks. There's another tattoo hiding just out of sight, playing peekaboo over the top of your panties. 

Something about seeing you so innocent and yet so naughty flicks a switch in his brain. Before he can think he's pushing you backwards and you hit the mattress behind with a thud, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. 

Which is fucking perfect in Eddie's opinion because he needs to taste you right now otherwise he might die. 

You both fight to take your underwear off, but he covers your hand in his own when you start rolling your socks down. 

“No. Leave them on.” 

It's husky and dominant, a steely look behind those soft brown eyes you haven't seen yet. Well. Filing that away for reference. You lay there sweetly, propped up on your elbows to watch as his tongue squirms against you, making out with your cunt just as passionately as he kissed you. 

He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks and for a moment you can see God. 

“Holy fuck! Eddie!” He groans back, lost in the taste of your cunt. He wants to write a poem about it, a song, a fucking haiku, anything to immortalise the prettiest pussy with the sweetest flavour. 

“Eddie, get up here!” He's not listening, licking and sucking, almost getting as much pleasure as you are, but you need him inside you right now before you combust; you're sure of it. 

In the end you grab a chunk of his hair and pull him upward, sliding him over your trembling body, and you hold his face an inch from yours. 

“Eddie, I need you to fuck me, now.” 

His leaking tip is rubbing against your swollen clit; he takes it in his hand to line it up, when somewhere out of the pussy drunk haze he remembers something important. 

“Do you have protection?”

“I'm on the pill, is that-” 

It clearly is OK. It's possibly the best four words Eddie's ever heard. 

Your unfinished sentence morphs into a drawn out moan as Eddie pushes inside you, stretching you out until he's fully sheathed. As you whimper and whine at the feeling, Eddie stops, just for a moment, to hold your cheek and press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

For some reason that takes you entirely by surprise, eyes wide and wet at his honesty. 

“Yeah? You're really handsome, Eddie.” 

The smile he shoots you is warm and genuine, lighting up that animate face of his with an inner glow. You roll your hips upward and take joy in the fact that he wasn't expecting it, eyebrows knitting in shock as a litany of swear words spill from his mouth. 

Your smirk is short lived when he hikes your leg around his waist and starts thrusting devastatingly deep, so deep it's like he's in your guts trying to root out the source of the burning desire at the pit of your stomach. 

“Holy- oh God, Eddie!” 

Moaning loudly, you press hot, cushy kisses to him between your stream of noises, forehead resting on his. Eddie's smiling, he can't help it. Just the joy of being with you like this, the feel of you losing it because of him, and the tightness of your pretty cunt have him in paradise. 

“Feels- feels so- oh fuck- so good, inside you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ tight, I-I can feel you shaking, you close?” 

Words escape you. All you can do is cling to his back and nod, nails clawing into him with shivering intensity. Eddie thrusts into you harder; all you can do is cling on for your life, arms and legs nearly suffocating him. The telltale tingle of your release is nearly burning your skin, prickling over each downy hair making it stand on end. 

The heat is immense, tension gripping your legs as you quake, and writhe, and whimper, until your climax flies out of you, shooting out of every pore and forcing tears from your eyes. Your vision turns bright white for a moment, until all the tension leaves your muscles and you flop back on the bed. 

Eddie doesn't understand how you keep on getting hotter, but it doesn't matter. You let him inside of you, raw, and his head is still reeling from that. Each little sound, each flex of your constricting walls is pushing him to ecstasy; in fact he's staving it off so he can enjoy you like this for a little while longer. 

Getting up on his knees, he pulls you toward him by your thighs, guiding you to roll your hips as he pumps into you. This angle is so much better; he can see all of your incredible body laid out before him, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your small hand finds his forearm, just holding it lightly, as you whine. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” 

It's high pitched, mumbled and nearly incoherent. He's not even sure you know you're doing it, but it's what pushes him over the edge. He feels the tightness in his balls as his length grows impossibly hard.

“Sweetheart, where-” He manages through gritted teeth. 

“Please cum in me.”

Eddie's four new favourite words. He grips hard to your thighs, hard enough to bruise, as he groans and swears his release out. You feel it deep inside, throbbing out of him, when he finally collapses forward. You hold onto each other, tongues rolling into each other's mouths, kissing and kissing and kissing. You kiss until it hurts, until your mouth is chapped and sore, until you need air, and water. 

“Fuck, Eddie, that was… sorry, if I er, came on a bit, strong?” 

Eddie just laughs, pressing his body as tightly against yours as he can. 

“Please don't ever apologise for wanting to fuck my brains out.” 

You laugh, kissing his cheek.

“When you put it like that, fair enough. Right, get off me, I need to clean up.” 

“I can take care of you-”

“Yeah, and I'm a grown woman who needs to piss, so please?” 

You roll your wrists, flinging your hands in desperate circles. He surrenders, pulling off you and rolling onto his back, more than happy to watch your naked form sway out of the room. 

Eddie does a little wiggle dance when you leave the room, punching the air with glee. He starts looking at your room, since he had no time to see it earlier. There's a tin on the bedside table that looks remarkably similar to what he has at home, and an honest to goodness lava lamp next to it. Unable to help himself, he flicks it on at the plug, waiting for it to warm up. 

“Sweetheart, you mind if I roll?” He calls out. 

“Sure, my shits on the side table, just light the incense on the dresser.” 

Eddie seeks his boxers out and puts them on for his modesty, though it seems you may be a little, lacking, in that department. Not that he's complaining, far from it. He's obsessed with your demeanour, your confidence. 

Once the incense is lit, he rolls a joint, fussing over it to make sure it's perfect for you. Just as he pulls the little twisted paper end off, you walk back in. 

You'd taken the time to go to the restroom, clean yourself up, and find his t-shirt that was abandoned in the TV room. The hellfire logo is tight across your chest, the shirt barely covering your sex where you stand. The smile you shoot to him is absolutely smothered in sin. 

“That's, fuck, you do not play fair, sweetheart.” 

Eyes wide, eyebrows round and innocent, your mouth falls into a perfect o. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about baby.” 

Eddie can't speak. If he does, he'll give everything away. How wonderful you are, how that tightrope of dirty and sweet that you walk with ease twists his insides up. How he never wants to go home. 

Instead, he passes the unlit smoke to you, and holds out his zippo like a sacrificial offering. You sit side saddle on the bed, knees together, barely covering your throbbing core, as you take the rolled joint gratefully and spark it. Once you've had a few tokes you pass it back. 

“So, this was…” He widely gestures his arm, like it can encompass everything he's felt over the last few hours. 

“You wanna leave, Eddie?” You ask. A genuine question, cocking your head to the side, as he takes a few pulls of the smoke and hands it back. 

“I thought, well, I thought you'd want me to go.” 

“Eddie, I said we had all night. If you're done with me then-” 

“Oh, oh fuck no, I thought you'd be done with me!” 

You giggle and climb into his lap as he grasps at the flesh of your ass desperately. 

“Then stay. Stay with me.” 

Your mouth presses kisses to his jaw as your hand winds itself into his boxers, seeking out his hardening length. Eddie hisses through his teeth. 

“Fuck, I'll stay, as long as you fuckin’ want, w-whatever you want, Holy shit!” 

Laughing, you puff on the smoke with one hand, and tease him relentlessly with the other. 

For the second, third, or maybe even fourth time today, he's thinking he's in way over his head, but he can't find it in him to care. 

********************

Eddie blinks hard, squishing his eyes shut, then opens them again. Nothing has changed. There's still an unfamiliar fabric hanging on the ceiling in front of him; some rainbow tie dye mural with a painted mariguana leaf in the middle of it that he's never seen before. When he turns his head, he sees a lava lamp, still on, running bubbles of fake lava up it too loose and fast, and then he remembers. 

Flicking the switch to stop the lamp's heat, he turns over to see you. You're snuggled into the crook of your own elbow, face perfectly at ease. Your pretty mouth has the hint of a pout to it, daring him to plant a kiss. 

He wants to do something for you. Anything. Right now, he'd throw a parade, organise a concert to sing to your cunt, hold a benefit to make you believe how hard he's fallen for the colour of your eyes, but maybe making you a coffee in bed will do. 

So he wiggles out of bed in his boxers, and puts his jeans on for good measure in case your mom decides this is a good moment to turn up, and starts busying himself with the kitchen appliances. There's an ancient coffee maker that shakes and sputters to life. Whilst that is going on, he takes a slug of milk out of the carton in the fridge. 

That is, until he sees Dustin from the side of his eye. 

Dustin looks very confused. His eyes trail from the messed up couch cushions, to the beer bottles on the floor, the out of place lamp, and the broken picture frame, and finally land on Eddie, still bemused and befuddled. 

“Eddie… did you… break into my house?” 

Dustin clearly doesn't believe his own conclusion as his eyes scout across the available options and still come up empty. 

“Sup, Dust Buster!” 

Dustin swivels to see you exit your new bedroom, still wearing Eddie's hellfire t-shirt and a pair of panties. You perch nonchalantly on the kitchen side as Eddie grins, making his way between your knees. 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Eddie!” 

“Henderson, honest, I didn't know until-” 

“Until you were in my fucking house???” 

“OK fair, but it was a bit… late then. Sorry dude.” 

‘Sorry? What about the code?” Come on, she's my sister! And you!” He says, pointing at you accusingly, “you were in school for one day. One! Then you sleep with the one guy I look up to!” 

“The codes, more like… guidelines. Don't shit your pants, you've still got Harrington, Jeez.” 

“Well, you shouldn't be such a- a scarlet woman! A hussy!” 

Uncaring, you shake your head back and away, laughing at the names. Eddie, however, is not having any of it. 

“Hey, Henderson, you better show your sister some respect.” 

“Yeah? Or what?” He dares, forgetting who he's talking to. 

“I might be fucking your sister, but I'm still your DM. You want your green adventurers running into Tiamat next session?” 

The way he curves his lips, the confident stance he's giving, it stirs tiny fires in your gut and dares unthought of kinks to come out and play. 

“Alright, alright, don't TPK us, I'm leaving, alright?” 

Dustin turns on his heel. Before he disappears entirely, you make out the start of him begging, ‘Lucas, do you copy, I have a Code Red! Repeat! Code Red!” 

“so, what now, Dungeon Master?” 

“Mmph,” Eddie sounds out, low in his throat, “ whatever you want, scarlet woman.” 

Taglist- If you want to be added or removed, please PM me!

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @joejoequinnquinn

[rafesplaymate]

Perfect Where Her Rivals Fails.

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Dark!Reader

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Summary: Rafe thought Sofia would be the one to fix him.. that was until he met her best friend and became so much worse…

warnings: smut. p in v. cheating (not on reader). descriptions of immoral thoughts / behaviors. dark themes / adult content.

a/n: rafe & reader are NOT GOOD PEOPLE! this is kinda long ngl.. descriptions of sofia & reader are for plot purpose only.

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Rafe should feel ashamed. He should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire.

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. “Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. from the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned.

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Sofia was nice. Sweet actually. She was all soft smiles and modest clothes. Sparkling eyes hiding behind wispy bangs. Voice of reason, the angel on his right shoulder. Mousy beauty, enticing in a plain jane way that is nice to admire and look at. She doesn’t stand out but she had caught his eye and he liked it. Different from snooty Kook girls and prettier than typical Pogue girls. She kept him calm, and pushed him to be better. She could change him; that was until he met her though.

Sofia’s best friend was everything she wasn’t. She was sweet as well, don’t get him wrong. But she had a fire in her eyes, a darkness waiting to be unleashed that he couldn’t help but feel would match perfectly with his. The devil on his left shoulder. She was stunning, the kind of stunning that turns heads and captivates. She was all flirty smiles and batting wispy lashes. Skimpy clothes, excessive jewelry and high heels always accessorizing her perfectly. Makeup always accentuating her enticing features.

Rafe still remembers when they met. He’d thrown a grand party, Kooks on every inch of his property buzzed and high. Some crossed and stumbling. An environment of chaos, fun chaos. He was sitting in his ‘VIP’ section with Barry. Doing lines and rolling a fat blunt to be passed between the two. Waiting for Sofia to arrive, remembering his earlier phone call with her. ‘Can I bring my best friend, she just moved in with me and it’ll be her first time on the island.’ To which Rafe replied mumbled a ‘sure, whatever.” The more the merrier right?

Oh and the more the merrier indeed. Because when Rafe laid his eyes on her for the first time he felt like he was starting the beginning of the rest of his life. Like a missing puzzle piece fit in perfectly that he didn’t even know was missing.

“Y/n this is Rafe,” smiles Sofia, putting a name to the beauty standing before him, “Rafe, this is y/n, my best friend,” boasted Sofia with a bashful smile and proud eyes. A manicured hand reaches out to him, “it’s so nice to meet you. Sofia’s always talking about you.” Pretty lips spread, exposing pearly whites and when he looks into her eyes he can see the same lust swirling around them that is most definitely sitting in his. Rafe extends his hand, immediately engulfing hers as their eyes lock and his lips spread in a small side smile with a “likewise.” Holding onto the moment till a soft voice breaks the tension, “y/n do you want anything to drink?”

They both dropped each other’s hands quickly. The tension building between them snuffing out as they turn to Sofia as she looks at them with an unassuming smile. “Oh…yes! sure! What is there?” replies y/n, turning her attention to her best friend and giving Rafe the opportunity to slyly run his gaze down her figure. Taking in the skimpy clothing accentuating it perfectly and pretty pedicured feet in heels. A stark difference to the dress Sofia was wearing that landed right above her knees, the V on the chest only exposing her collar bones. Feet sat in white sneakers. “I’m not sure…Rafe?” Sofia broke his trance, turning to him as he immediately locked eyes with hers. “What happened?” he replies, having not paid attention to anything they were taking about. Way too entranced by the beauty on display in front of him.

“Y/n asked what do you have to drink” said Sofia with a small smile. And it almost made him feel guilty at having checked out his girlfriend’s best friend right in front of her. Almost. “Uh yeah.. anything really. I’m sure I have it, what’s your poison?” he spoke to y/n, giving her a warm smile as he prepared to make a mental note of what she likes. “Vodka.” she replies back, returning his warm smile with one of her own. Rafe goes to reply when a familiar accent chimes in.

“How about I show you where it’s at doll? Give these two lovebirds a chance to be alone.” drawls Barry. Rafe snaps his head toward him, eyes darkening and lips pursing in an unamused scowl. The drug dealer making eye contact with the beauty in front of them, small smirk on his lips as lust swirls around his eyes. Rafe couldn’t blame him but he sure as hell wanted to pop him right in the face. “M’Barry,” he reaches his hand out to her, Rafe’s eyes following her pretty hand slide into Barry’s calloused grip. “I’m a business associate of Rafe’s” he says slyly, “guess you could say we’re friends too.” He finished with a smile, gold tooth glistening.

“Nice to meet you,” y/n replies offering him a small smile. “Um, yeah sure. That sounds good.” she replied to Barry’s earlier question. Shyly glancing once at Rafe, then at Sofia. Barry getting up and taking the hand in his to guide her along with him. Turning his head back to Rafe with a knowing smirk as Sofia takes her position next to Rafe, nuzzling into his side with a pleased smile. It would normally be welcomed by him, thick arm wrapped around her shoulder. But now he does it reluctantly, tips of his ears burning with heat and chest tightening. Jealousy swirling in his stomach, lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes burn holes into the pair walking away. Watching as y/n follows Barry’s lead, head turning back to look over at the couple. Her eyes landing on Sofia who’s nuzzling his cheek and kissing it with soft pecks. He can see them darken as she moves her eyes to his and catches them already on hers. The pair staring into each other before she turns around and lets Barry lead her away. Rafe’s gaze can’t help but fall to her cute butt popping out enticingly from the mini skirt she was wearing. The clack of her heels furthering with each step.

“I think Barry likes her,” giggles Sofia. The statement making his body burn and the hand not wrapped around her shoulder clench. A small hum coming from his mouth and all he’s thinking is that he’ll be damned if he lets Barry sweep away something he’s already planning on making his.

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After that eventful night. Rafe makes it a point to be around y/n as much as possible. Whether from suggesting he and Sofia ‘stay in’ at her small place with a ‘let’s invite y/n to watch a movie’ or ‘don’t feel like being around Figure 8, mind if I hang here?’ Each and every time, making up one excuse after the other to reside in the habitat where his prey lies in. Waiting for the right moment to pounce and claim his catch.

If he thought style-wise they were different. It’s only confirmed by the undeniable difference in their shared home. Elements placed by both of them in the space contrasting starkly. Sofia’s bedroom was nice. Clean and always well kept. Neutral, earthy tones and the definition of minimalistic. Clothes organized neatly and folded perfectly in her dresser, and hung up in her small closet. A few pairs of shoes lined up neatly under the hanging clothes. Her room smelled like clean laundry and the ocean breeze. Her bed with a basic black duvet and primped white, cotton sheets always fresh. Smelling of her whenever they’re rolling around, tangled together.

Whereas, y/n’s space was the epitome of girly-girl. Clean but an organized clutter of cute trinkets and decorations. Clothes and lingerie on a rack next to her vanity because the small closet couldn’t fit all her clothes. Heels lined up against the wall, white and black leopard print bedding with satin pink sheets, full of fluffy pillows. Her vanity is orgqnized but full of makeup, and products that she rummages through on her day to day. Jewelry sprawled all over her night stand. All things maximalism. Which he was only able to see after sneaking out of Sofia’s bedroom one night while she slept soundly and stalking over to the other beauty’s bedroom to satiate his need to know more about her. Pressing the door open lightly and watching as she sleeps with pouted lips in her array of pillows and satin sheets. The sweet aroma of Vanilla filling his senses. And lulling him to sleep after he gets back into bed with Sofia, dreaming of the girl down the hall.

Even in their shared bathroom, the pink loofah and sparkly decorations contrasting to Sofia’s white loofah and minimal decorating. And sometimes when Rafe is desperate he pops open her expensive Vanilla-scented shampoo and inhales deeply to consume just a piece of her, so different from the fresh-soap smell of Sofia’s. God and don’t get him started on the loungewear.

Sofia preferred comfort and modesty. She had a cute body that hid under baggy sweats, yoga pants, gym shorts and oversized sweaters or shirts. Maybe even some of his shirts here and there. Rafe liked it don’t get him wrong, it’s cute and she feels comfortable. But when he saw y/n’s loungewear, he didn’t know how he could ever accept anything less. Micro sleep shorts in an array of different pinks, black, grey, whites. Low-rise and always risen up, stuck inbetween her cute butt, giving him a good view of those pretty legs and that gorgeous tummy. Tiny tank tops, shirts that exposed her pretty midriff and so tight on the chest he could always see her nipples poking through. Fluffy pink slippers or cute leg-warmers and fluffy socks on her feet. Thought he prefers when she’s barefoot because then he can see her pretty pedicured toes that he imagines pressing kisses onto.

Rafe wasn’t delusional. Well, he was. But not about this, no way. When he’d first started infiltrating their space, making himself a consistent figure he’d made sure he was extra observant and helpful. In guise of being a good boyfriend to Sofia ‘it’s so sweet that you’re being so nice to her, I know she really appreciates it. The move was hard.’ To which Rafe replied with ‘do it all for you baby.’ A bold-faced lie. He does it because he wants to, he wants to know everything about her. Take care of her. He knows that her and Sofia aren’t rolling in dough the way he is. Especially with her struggling to get a job after he made sure to put in a word not to hire her at the country club with Sofia. Coming up with some excuse that she’s got no work ethic; in reality it’s just him not wanting her to work around other men. Or work in general, she’s far too precious for that. He knows she’s a girl who deserves nice things and gestures. A girl he wants to provide for. And he also knows that the more he provides, he can basically Pavlov her. Make her depend on him and keep a smile on that pretty face he wants to press kisses all over.

So it started with simple things. Foods and snacks she likes; asking Sofia what she prefers to nosh on. To which she happily replied giving him a good list, and he made sure to get Sofia something too. Not to raise suspicion. It made his chest warm when they’d have a movie night, another insistent ‘let’s invite y/n.’ Paying more attention to how she happily snacked on the food he provided, giving him thanks and a shy hug. Offering him some every few minutes while he replied with soft, “m’okay, enjoy it. It’s all for you.” Neither her and Sofia realizing how deep that sentiment actually was.

But then it began escalating… they started hanging out more. Sofia giving Rafe a spare key to let himself into their home since he was there so often, and he took full advantage. Letting himself in when he knew Sofia wasn’t there; insisting on inserting himself into y/n’s life and heart. They spent so much time together; getting to know each other. Rafe becoming a consistent figure in her life; making himself her whole world. Slowly but surely infiltrating and separating her away from Sofia as he reeled her closer to him. Even going as far to find solace in her company when he and Sofia fought; not letting her know he began each and every one to slowly but surely push her away. Making sure Sofia was never there as he forced himself into her best friend’s life.

Sofia had picked up more shifts at the Country Club; making her presence more sparse as she noticed distance from her best friend and her boyfriend. Losing herself in work to not think about the dread building in her chest and the suspicions building in her mind. As for Rafe, it was another normal day of pushing himself into y/n’s life and going to her shared home with Sofia. Which has been almost every day of the week when he wasn’t busy doing business with Barry or making time for Sofia as to not raise suspicion. And today he brought breakfast, setting it out on their small kitchen island. One thing on his mind that today was the day. He was in the middle of setting up when he heard soft footsteps padding towards the kitchen from the small hallway.

“Rafe?” questioned a meek voice; gritty with sleep and sounding oh-so precious. He immediately turns around with a warm smile, running his eyes over her scantily clad figure and down to her pretty toes on display. “Good morning,” he said in a slow drawl, taking in the way her thighs clenched together subtly at that. His warm smile slipping into that familiar smirk. “I brought breakfast, thought we could spend some time together and go to the mainland today to show you around.” He continued, keeping his eyes on her as her gaze moved to the food set out on the island. Shuffling over and rubbing the sleep out of her pretty eyes.

“You got all this .. for me?” she spoke softly, gazing up at his towering figure with soft doe-eyes. Lips frowning in a slight pout that he wanted to kiss away. “Mhmm,” he hummed. He raised a strong hand to grip her chin and run the tip of his thumb slightly over the bottom of her lower lip. Moving his gaze from her eyes to her lips, back to her eyes, “just for you,” he whispered lowly. Watching as she kept staring into his eyes and leaning her body into him slowly. He very much liked that, giving her chin a quick pinch before he pulled away. Turning to grab a glass of orange juice and setting it down in front of the plate he set out for her. Watching as she moved to sit in front of it; eyes dashing between the arranged food. “Eat whatever you want, need that tummy full for today.” He spread his hands on the island, holding his body up as he leaned over and watched as she began adding pieces of her desired choice of food all over the plate. A satisfied hum coming from her as her eyes closed at the taste.

“What do you mean we’re going to the mainland? Why? Without Sofia too?” she questioned after she finished chewing; taking a sip of the orange juice he set out for her while keeping eye contact. “Thought I could show you around, I had nothing to do today and thought it would be nice to take you out so you’re not cooped up in here all day while Sofia’s working.” He said with his usual charm; popping a grape into his mouth and biting into it with a harsh crunch. Watching as she nodded her head in understanding. “After you eat, go get ready and put on something pretty. It’ll be hot today so be sure to dress for it. But make sure it’s something nice, taking you out for a nice lunch.” He continued. Praying she put on one of those cute, short sundresses or mini skirts she’s so known for wearing. He continued to munch on small pieces of fruit while she finished her breakfast. Taking her plate when she finished and giving her a dismissive wave; signaling to her to begin getting ready.

He watched as she happily skipped away, his eyes lowering to her cute butt as if jiggled with her movements. He wanted nothing more than to bite into it; too caught up in his dirty thoughts when he heard a, “can I wear heels?” He immediately popped his eyes back to her face, which is turned around to look at him. Back still facing him. “If they’re comfortable enough, absolutely.” He smiled, watching as she nodded with a smile and continued back to her room as Rafe finished cleaning up and sat onto the small couch. Head leaning back onto it and staring onto the ceiling with a devious grin of all the things he planned to do today. Dozing off slightly as he waited for her to get ready.

“Rafe,” a slight nudge to his shoulder. “Raaaaafe,” drawled out the prettiest voice; a soft hand coming to cup his cheek lightly and caress it as that sweet voice whispered another soft “wake up Rafe, m’ready to go.” She said delicately with excitement in her voice. Rafe’s eyes opening up from dreamland to look at the absolute goddess in front of him. Quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes as she stepped back in front of him. When his vision came back into focus he couldn’t help but run his gaze over her figure. His heart beating in his chest and his pants feeling tighter by the second as her took in the little number on her gorgeous body. Down to the heels on her feet showing off those pretty toes. Her hair done up a a messy up-do with wisp framing her face perfectly. Makeup dewy and fresh, making her look so ethereal and pretty lips slathered in a gloss he wants to kiss away. Silver hoops sitting in her pretty ears.

“You like it?” she asked, giving him twirl. The expanse of her pretty back showing. The sheen material giving him a view of the pink thong nestled inbetween the cute butt he’s been dreaming of marking with his teeth. Watching as her front view came into view, his eyes immediately drawn to the low V and the way her pretty tits looked so erotic hidden between a thin layer of sheen material. Her nipples poking through and her cleavage sitting so nicely.

He let out a low, soft whistle; his gaze which was leaving no inch of her body undiscovered looks back up to her beautiful face. Her eyes already on him through wispy lashes that made them looks so flirty and alluring. An amused smile on her face as he stated, “you look like you should be on the cover of a magazine. Beautiful. You look beautiful. You are so beautiful.” With full sincerity, his eyes holding onto hers to convey all the emotions and want he’s been holding back. He rose up slightly, hand holding out for hers as she placed hers into his. His large grip immediately engulfing her pretty hand as he began dragging her to the front door. “We’re gonna have a ball, believe that.” He looked back at her with a smirk; her head tilting back to meet his gaze and a small giggle falling from her lips as she let him lead her away.

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Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever wanted someone so badly in his life, not even Sofia. After they left the girls’ small house, taking his truck to which he boldly put his hand on her thigh while she sat in his passenger seat; feeling it tense. Testing the waters and feeling satisfied as she relaxed into his touch; thighs slightly spreading to which he gave a small squeeze in approval. His hand caressing her smooth skin the whole way to there. He his head to the side to look at her through his peripheral vision to see her looking out the window, biting those pretty lips and closing her eyes when he would dare to raise his hand a bit higher. Bringing it back to its original spot in a way to tease her every-time, having expected her to push him away. Tell him he’s crossing a boundary, but she never did. Not even when her helped her off the truck, his hand pulling her into his side with it running down her smooth back to sit right above her butt. Not even when he stood behind her on the ferry; his body pressed into hers and arms spread out onto the railing to cage her in as she watched the water with a lip bite and excitement in her eyes. Leaning her head back a bit to expose her neck to him, his immediate response to ghost his lips up her neck and take in her Vanilla scent that’s been driving him crazy. Wanting to lick her smooth skin but refraining, just hovering his face over where he wants to mark her up.

They spent the whole day wrapped up in each other. Rafe had planned on taking her shopping, wanting to spoil her then quickly realizing he didn’t have his truck to hold the influx of items he’s sure she would love to have. Settling for taking her to a jewelry shop, buying her an 18k white gold-diamond necklace that had her eyes widening and a smile spreading on her pretty face. Words of “no Rafe I couldn’t it’s too much,” to, “what about Sofia, wouldn’t you want to get this for her?” Which he quickly shut down with a firm, “Sofia isn’t the kind of girl you buy such pretty, expensive things for, beautiful. You know this isn’t her thing.” His words having two meanings. Watching as she bit her lip in consideration at them, knowing how non-flashy her best friend was and how intimate this gesture was. Ultimately accepting the expensive gift he paid a pretty penny for and letting him clip it onto her neck with a “only girls like you deserve such nice things.” Admiring how it glistened beautifully against her flawless skin-tone. Hoping by tonight that it’s all she’s got on besides the heels on her pretty feet.

After that he took her to his promised lunch, watching as she admired herself in any reflection they walked past to see the diamonds glistening against her. Giddy with happiness and wondering how she could re-pay his kindness. Envy building in her stomach that someone as non-materialistic and plain as her best friend ended up with such a pretty boyfriend whose pockets were loaded. They both sat and chatted over expensive lobster and glasses of Dom Périgon; him feeding her pieces of her food and watching as her lips wrapped around the fork. Praying that he would get to feel them wrapped around his solid cock. His restraint for her slowly dwindling the more they got drunk off champagne.

And fuck —was he glad he splurged on good drinking. Watching as she became more loose, more touchy. Pretty eyes hazing over from the bubbly running through her. Those wispy lashes batting at him as she bit her lip; eyeing him with pure lust. It’s when he felt her right foot begin to slide up the inner-side of his right leg did he know; he had her. Leaning back in his chair slightly and widening his legs to give her more access. The two staring into each other eye’s, lust and intense want swirling around as she slid her foot higher. Eventually reaching his thigh and then the prominent bulge in his dark grey slacks. Rafe clenching his fist and huffing from his nostrils when she begin pressing her toes into it sensually. Massaging him with them as she bit her lip seductively and kept eye contact. Rafe let her tease him till he couldn’t handle it anymore.

Getting up from his chair abruptly and tossing down a few hundred dollar bills onto the table before grabbing her by her upper arm. Giving her a chance to put her heel back onto her foot before dragging her out of the restaurant and pinning her against the wall of the alley right next to it. Breathing deeply and watching as she stared into his eyes with that doe-eyed expression that makes him want to ruin her. Pressing his body against hers, his hands spread out on both sides of her head and pushing his face till they were mere inches apart. Their breaths mingling as their breathing became harsher, the restraint between both of them breaking as their need for each other began to win.

“You’ve been driving me crazy. From the moment I saw you; I knew I needed you.” Rafe said lowly, his voice thick with desire as he broke the silence. Watching as she pondered his words, then continuing, “I’m gonna take you home, back to Tannyhill.” He whispered lowly, pushing his head closer to her and brushing his lips against hers as he spoke of everything he planned to do. “M’gonna slip this sexy little dress off and leave you in nothing but those sexy heels and that necklace I bought you.” He drawled, feeling her press closer into him. Her hands that were pressed by her side now sliding up his lower back and up to his shoulders as she held onto him; listening to his every word.

“Then m’gonna take what I’ve been waiting too all damn day. Ever since I met you actually. I’m marking my claim on you tonight, and you’re gonna let me because I know you want me as bad as I want you. Know you need me baby, because I need you too.” With that he pressed his lips onto hers. The pair making out harshly with moans and whines falling from her pretty lips into his mouth; harsh groans and breathes falling from his into hers. Their teeth clacking and tongues fighting for dominance as they consumed each other. Any thought of how this might hurt Sofia quickly slipping from their minds. It felt right, right in a way that he didn’t feel with Sofia. Right in a way that she knew any friendship with Sofia wasn’t worth the feelings he gave her.

The pair made out harshly, hands running all over each other as they took each other in. Weeks of tension build up, exploding passionately between them. The sun casting an orange haze over the environment as it slowly went down. Her makeup now ruined and pouty lips swollen. Rafe’s right hand snaking into her pretty up-do and gripping her hair, tugging harshly to expose her neck. Pressing kisses and marking her as she spoke a soft inquiring, “What about Sofia?” Making Rafe’s incessant kissing come to a halt, his head lifting away from her neck as he moved his left hand to cup her cheek; not bothering to remove the hand tangled in her messed up hair. His eyes caught her own, watching as guilt built up in them. Ready to reassure and squash away those feelings because no way was he gonna let Sofia get in between them now. Not anymore than she already has.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said slowly. Watching as she opened her lips to retaliate and immediately shushing her. “Hey -no. Listen..” he continued, rubbing his thumb soothingly on her cheek. “What she means to me is nothing compared to the feelings I’ve developed for you. I need you y/n; it’s driving me insane. I know deep inside me that this feeling I have for you isn’t anything simple.” He spoke seriously, spilling his thoughts to her. Her eyes tearing with emotion as he continued, “and I won’t try to figure it out or stop it. Some things are meant to happen; we’re one of those things. You and me. What we can have together is way too good to give it up for a girl I know I don’t want a future with, but you? We can build a life together. I want to build a life with you. You deserve to be taken care of, provided for. Treated and loved like the goddamn goddess you are. And I wanna give all of that to you baby, wanna give you everything. All of me; I wanna be yours. It’s been weeks of holding myself back to finally make this moment happen and I’m not gonna let anyone ruin it. Especially not her.” he spoke. Soft tears running down her smooth cheeks that he kissed away; cradling her to him.

“It’s me and you baby; no one else. Not even Sofia.” He finished, watching the hesitation and guilt wash away in her eyes as she submitted herself to him. Removing her arms from being wrapped up his back to wrap them around his neck. Pushing her lips onto his and kissing him passionately as Rafe immediately welcomed it. Wrapping his arms around her and pressing her body tightly against his.

“Take me home Rafe,” she whispered when she pulled back. “Take me home and make me yours, wanna be all yours too.” She said against his lips, causing him to groan deeply and recapture her lips with his passionately before pulling her away. Scooping her in his arms and dragging her to the ferry bridal style as she giggled and kicked her legs in excitement. The two knowing this was the beginning of a passionate, twisted love story. Sofia be damned.

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When they made it back to Tannyhill, it’s like a veil lifted over them. Encasing them in their own little world of passion and burning desire. Giggling into each other’s mouths as her heels clacked against the floors of Tannyhill, Rafe consuming her. He took the sheen material sitting over her left shoulder and slipped it off; watching as it fell off her shoulder erotically. The smooth skin of her shoulder, arm and now her left breast being exposed to his eyes without a layer in between. He immediately swiped the right sleeve, the flowy material sliding off with ease. The entire dress dropping as she was left standing in her matching pink thong that came with the dress. Plump tits and gorgeous body on full display for his eyes only. The faux-diamonds on her heels glistening and the real diamonds on her neck shining even brighter. Her flawless skin-tone glowing from the lotion she slathered all over it while getting ready and sparkling from the body glitter she applied to add to her appeal.

Rafe’s gaze ran over the entirety of her body. His eyes full of burning want and need for her. Wanting to ravage and defile her; looking at her with the same hunger a predator looks at its prey. He was gonna make sure she never wanted anyone other than him. He was gonna make sure she belonged to him in her entirety from body to heart and soul. He was gonna make her the queen of his mansion and Kildare. Ruling alongside him in a way Sofia never could. A placeholder and stepping stone for him to find the one he truly wanted. He almost felt bad about Sofia’s role in this situation; feeling like he only met her to be able to meet the love of his life. But his desire for the beauty standing in from of him squashed any feelings that weren’t the ones he had for her.

Rafe immediately grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder as her shocked gasp turned into realizing giggles. Stomping his way upstairs and smacking her butt; turning his head to bite into it making her squeal as he smirked in satisfaction. Finally reaching his room -their room. Shoving the door open and walking to his bed, tossing her on it roughly as she bounced with delirious girly giggles. Immediately spreading her legs and bringing her pretty manicured hands to massage her beautiful tits. Her eyes full of want and need as she watched him hastily pull his clothing off his body. His belt buckle hitting the floor with a thunk as he pulled every last piece of clothing off.

Once Rafe was fully bare, his hard cock up-right and bobbing with his movements as he moved onto the bed on his knees. Slotting himself between her open legs, his big hands on both sides of her head and pressing his body to hers till they were skin to skin. Her tits pressed tightly to his chest; feeling as she began to whine her hips under him after feeling his hard cock rest itself on her covered pussy. Her hands immediately ran up the huge expanse of his back; feeling his smooth skin under her them as he kissed her roughly. Dominating her mouth immediately, strings of spit exchanging between their messy movements. Rafe beginning to grind his hips to match the rhythm of hers. His cock rubbing on her thong-covered pussy as they made out.

“Needed this so bad. Needed you,” he pressed another fervid kiss to her swollen lips covered in their shared spit. Rafe leaned his weight onto his left hand next to her head, pushing his upper body up as his knees bent to stabilize himself. Her thighs draped over his as he spread them wide with his position. Right hand reaching in between them and moving her soaked through thong to the side. Exposing her perfect cunt to him as he groaned deep in his chest at the sight. “So fucking wet for me huh, princess?” He inquired, clearly already knowing the answer. Rubbing his fingers through the silky folds of perfect pussy. Her legs immediately spreading wider as she whispered, “have been since the moment I met you.” Admitting that she’s needed him just as badly he needed her. Her words sexual but the emotion in her eyes sentimental.

Rafe smiled warmly at her, his eyes portraying the same emotion as he leaned down to get her a quick peck. Using his right hand to bring his leaking tip to her entrance dripping with her arousal. Sliding his tip against her hole before he slid it up to her clit, circling the swollen bud a couple times before guiding his tip back to her entrance. He popped it in, an airy gasp falling from her lips as a deep moan fell from his. He pushed slowly, breaking her cunt in around his thick cock, her legs beginning to tremble. Rafe pushed in till he was he was kissing her cervix, pressing soothing kisses all over her face as she whimpered and whine at the stretch. His big body pinning hers to the bed; chest pressed together while his thighs spread hers open. He brought his right hand back next to her head, beginning to grind slowly to get her use to the feeling of him breaking her open. Ruining her for everyone else but him.

“Mhmmm… s’fucking tight baby fuuuuck,” he emphasized the last word with a drawn out groan. Pushing his head into her neck that was exposed to him as she turned her head to the side to whimper about his deep grinding. Pressing kisses all over it and licking up her neck before sinking his teeth in harshly. Grinning into her skin when she cried out, hips beginning to match the rhythm of his as he stretched her to the brim. Rafe marking her neck with love bites as a declaration of his ownership over her. He brought his lips to her left ear, licking her lobe before giving it a light bite and then whispering, “can’t fucking wait anymore, m’taking what I fucking want, alright?” Beginning to snap his hips into her at a brutalizing pace. Her whimpers quickly turning into loud whines and cries, tears building up her in her pretty eyes and ruining her makeup.

“Yeah…that’s it,” Rafe groaned deeply before continuing, “cry for me baby, get use to the rest of your life. M’gonna fuck this sloppy little hole till my dick is imprinted into you.” He finished, grabbing her arms that were now flailing around to grasp onto something from his harsh pounding. Holding her wrist in his large left hand, using it as leverage to pound into her harder. A wicked smile on his face as he took what he wanted. “Never gonna leave you alone, keeping you next to me for the rest of my damn life. Fuck Sofia, this is the shit I’ve been waiting for right here -ah fuck!” He spoke harshly, voice gritty with desire and affected by his efforts at destroying her for any other man besides him. He meant it when he said he was going to fuck his print into her. “It’s me and you baby, remember that.” He reminded her, “just me n’you.”

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They’d been going at it for hours; taking each other apart in the most primal way. Rafe fucked her stupid till she passed out. Her heels long gone and thong ripped as he bent her into every position impossible; stretching her open and abusing her sopping hole with his fingers, tongue and cock. Whispering phrases of “that’s my good little cumslut. Doesn’t even care that she’s fucking over her best friend. As long as she gets daddy’s dick breaking her open, huh?” He spoke menacingly, his thick bicep wrapped around her neck as he pounded into her from behind. Face buried in her hair as she dug her manicured nails into his forearm. Her left arm bent back and held against her lower back with rafe’s left hand. Choked gasp of “yes daddy” and “just for you” falling from her swollen pout. Leaving Rafe satisfied as he replied a hushed “that’s right baby, ain’t gotta worry bout a damn thing aside from taking this dick.” Or “Got the sheets fucking soaked, maybe I should fuck Sofia one last time and press her face into the mattress so she can taste what real top-tier pussy tastes like.” His back against the pillows, her back pressed to his firm chest. Large hands hooked under her thighs and spreading her out while he bucked up with non-stop harsh strokes into her already filled and leaking pussy. Their mixed arousal dripping all over his balls as she had her arms laid next to his head; letting him take whatever he wanted. Crying out “no! mine!” when he dared even teased her with the thought of fucking Sofia again after this. Making Rafe chuckle as he spoke out a “that’s right baby, m’all yours. Just yours.”

After so many hours of fucking her stupid, she passed out immediately after the last round. Rafe holding her shaking body to his, her face pressed into his neck. His right arm under her head as his left caressed her hair; keeping her safe in dreamland while they lay on their sides. Kissing her hair every so often the hour she was passed out. He was about ready to get up and go to the restroom; attempting to slowly remove her right arm wrapped around his waist when he heard her whine. Her eyes blinking open, wispy lashes clumped together from the tears of passion he caused. “Don’t leave me,” she pouted, regaining strength to pull him back into her. The action causing a warm feeling to spread through his body like wildfire. He adored that she wanted him just as bad.

“Gotta clean you up m’love.” He whispered against her lips after pressing a soft kiss to them to soothe her. Watching her look at him with sleepy eyes; lust beginning to swirl in them again. “Nuh-uh,” she replied, pressing her right hand to his chest to press him into the mattress flat on his back. Straddling his body immediately, her hands on both sides of his head as she bent down to give him a kiss. Her leaking pussy settled over his cock, pressing down against it. Rafe immediately relaxing into the mattress and shuffling slightly to get into a more comfortable position in middle of the bed. When they pulled back he brought his right hand to cup her left cheek, running his thumb over it soothingly as they held the silence, staring into each other’s eyes. “What do you want, hm?” He questioned, though he already knew the answer.

“If you want something, take it. I know I did.” Smiling as he watched her lift herself up on her knees slightly, hand reaching between them. She gripped his already hard cock in her soft hand, teasing his tip against her clit making them both lightly moan. She didn’t do it for too long, already way too built up after weeks of tension between them. Needing him again even after the hours of sex he put her through already. She brought him to her soaked entrance, popping his tip in as she watched his face. His brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he watched her cute cunt swallow him.

Rafe immediately put his hands on her hips and positions his legs. Ready to immediately begin giving it to her and giving her a couple harsh thrust before her dainty hands smacked onto his chest and pushed him back into the sheets, shaking her head side to side to say no. Rafe’s brows furrowed with confusion his lips opening to say something before she interrupted his questioning with, “wanna take care of you daddy. Wanna be good for you.” Rafe’s body immediately relaxing as a satisfied smirk spread across his face. “Yeah? Well alright,” he smacked her left ass cheek with his right hand; then removing both his hands from her hips and laying them crossed behind his head. Ready to let her do all the work. “Get to it princess; daddy’s got a fat load waiting for you.”

Her hips began grinding back and forth, rubbing her overstimulated clit across the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock. Hands pressed into his chest and whines falling from her lips as she worked herself into it. Rafe biting his lip while darting his eyes between her body grinding against him and to her pretty face contorting in pleasure. When she finally felt ready she removed her hands from his chest; reaching her hands behind her to stabilize herself on his strong thighs. Wet plops of their arousal and skin smacking as she began bouncing herself up and down. Working herself on his dick as she cried out his name; Rafe entranced by the goddess on top of him. He didn’t know where to look, from his dick breaking in her pussy to her beautiful body moving sensually to that gorgeous face with messy makeup and swollen lips. He clenched his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure and feelings running through him; head turning to the left as she leaned down to start kissing and sucking marks into him the way he did her. When he opens his hazy eyes just a bit that’s when he sees it …

A picture of him and Sofia on his nightstand. Her face smiling brightly as she looked so happy. Half his face hidden in her hair as he gave a soft smile to the camera. A moment in time at the beginning of their relationship when Rafe felt like he could actually see himself building something long term; feeling that Sofia could fix him. A feeling that was now long gone. Rafe should feel ashamed; he should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good. He turns back to the one he truly wants and doesn’t regret his actions in the slightest. This was his woman.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire. Sex was never this good with Sofia, she wasn’t wild. Wasn’t adventurous, as plain in bed as she was outside. She never made his body burn ablaze or his nerves go haywire. She never consumed his heart, body and soul the way the girl on top of him does. Even with Sofia he felt something incomplete inside him. He didn’t know what he was missing to be found it. Till he found her …

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis again. The overwhelming feeling of his tip hitting her cervix becoming too much. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. He’d hurt Sofia again and again if it meant having this sight in front of him and these feelings running through him all the time.

“Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. From the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned. Sofia would be okay, eventually. But he wouldn’t if couldn’t have his girl, he’d rather crush Sofia’s soul then let anything get inbetween them. Any softness he felt for her fading away quickly at the thought of her becoming an obstacle between them.

“Dadddyyy,” she whined into his mouth when his hips began bucking up. He took over control, his need to reassert dominance overtaking him. He was gonna make sure she would never leave him. She was stuck here with him and he was going to ensure it in anyway possible. Little ‘uh uh uh uh’s’ falling from her as he pounded up into her; his legs tense with stabilizing his movements. His right hand came to the back of her head to keep her lips pressed to his. Hips jackhammering into her as she took everything he gave her. Her arms beginning to flail around again to stabilize herself until he grabbed them in his left hand and pinned them to her back with her wrist in his large hand. He pulled his lips back, a string of spit connecting his to hers as she whined and tried to reconnect them. Rafe shook his head and nudged her nose with his as he spoke against her mouth. “Take it m’love, daddy needs you to take it. Need you to know you’re never gonna leave me. We’re in this together. You n’me.” Watching as her eyes looked into his with full sincerity as she nodded and choked out “you n’me. Don’t wanna leave you daddy. Never.” With that Rafe pressed his hips up on more time, groaning out her name repeatedly. His cock all the way inside her and tip kissing her cervix as ropes of cum dribbled out and filled her up for the what feels like the millionth time that night. His orgasm triggering her own as her legs shook in their straddling position; crying out into his mouth as she squirted around him again.

Rafe fell back into the mattress, her collapsing on top of him as they both were breathing harshly to catch their breathes. Rafe’s right hand came up to rub her back soothingly as she came down from the high he gave her; soft little cries leaving her that turned into almost inaudible whimpers. The two so wrapped in each other and the aftermath of their love-making that they didn’t even hear the harsh steps stomping up the stairs to Rafe’s bedroom.

When they’d gone out on their date, Rafe put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and ensured she did too. Not wanting any interruptions for their day together. And ever since then it hasn’t come off, the pair never realizing that Sofia was blowing up their phones with incessant text and calls. Questions of where they were, if they were together. Until she couldn’t handle it anymore and drove straight to Rafe’s in the middle of the night; praying the gut feeling she’s had for weeks wasn’t going to be confirmed tonight. Oh how she wishes she was wrong. She’d known for weeks, a gut feeling stabbing in her for so long. She’d been suspicious when Rafe had become so kind, tender to her best friend. Chalking it up to him wanting to make Sofia happy by being so welcoming and be a good boyfriend. When he started coming over everyday she was a little surprised, he usually called her over to Tannyhill. She knew he wasn’t a fan of the cut. When he began insisting on staying in for dates, always asking for y/n to intrude on them. It bothered her but she didn’t say anything, too worried about Rafe’s softness sizzling out and making her best friend feel bad. She was even hesitant to give him a key but did it anyway because she convinced herself she was being paranoid. ‘He’s finally man’ing up,’ she’d told herself. Only not knowing it wasn’t for her but her best friend.

She knew when Rafe became cold, distant. Starting fights over anything and everything; never wanting to talk it out and just leaving her wallowing in her own sadness. She knew when her best friend started acting the same, cold. Her distance deepening by the day. And when she came home one day to find them laughing together and eyes sparkling at each other, not even noticing she walked in. The two chatting away on the couch. It pushed her to pick up more work, needing to numb the nagging feeling and ignore the suspicions growing in her mind. But she knew, a woman always knows. And she most definitely knew when she walked straight into Rafe’s house. The scrape of pink fabric laying at the bottom of the staircase, one she knew belonged to her best friend. Sofia knew yet she needed to see it, needed to finally know that she wasn’t feeling crazy. But nothing could have prepared her for shattering of her heart as she slammed Rafe’s bedroom door open. Two people she loved so much, wrapped around each other as they pressed soft kisses to each other’s lips. In their own world till she screamed out an “I knew it!” and only then did their veil lift.

Y/n and Rafe turned to look at Sofia standing at the entrance of the bedroom, tears running down her cheeks. Rafe was quick to act, turning his body along with y/n’s to shield her. His back turning to Sofia as y/n fell to the other side; her right leg wrapped around his waist as she looked at her best friend over Rafe’s shoulder. A scowl now etched on his face as he looked back at Sofia through a side eye, “yo! what the fuck is your problem?!” He fumed, as if Sofia was a stranger intruding on their intimate moment. As if she was never his girlfriend, as if she was never anything to him. Sofia’s teary eyes darted between Rafe’s scowling face, to her best friend. Oh her best friend, someone she’d know for so many years. Someone who was practically a sister to her, someone she let into her home and around her boyfriend. She trusted her. “How could you?” she spoke to y/n, the pain in her chest almost debilitating. “How-how could you?! I trusted you! I let you into my home! I let you around my boyfriend and this is how you repay me! BY FUCKING MY BOYFRIEND!” She screamed, overwhelming feelings of anger and despair radiating off of her. “You’re a fucking slut! A whore!,” she stepped forward more into the room ignoring the ‘hey!’ from Rafe as she continued, “I should have known. You always begged for attention, just look at the way you dress. You’re a stupid attention seeking whore!” She raged at her best friend whose eyes full of guilt now turned into equal rage.

Rafe went to open his mouth and defend his woman when y/n spoke up first, “save me the fucking pity party Sofia! You’re just a sad case of another girl getting way to ahead of herself because a cute guy finally gave her attention,” she retaliated. Sitting up now, not caring about her state of undress or the cum leaking down her thighs as she pushed herself up to her knees on the bed. Finger pointing at Sofia as Rafe’s eyes darted between the two girls. “You’ve always made me feel bad! Like i’m someone who needs to be fixed and is full of faults. Always telling me where I went wrong or what I’m not doing good enough. You act so high and fucking mighty all the time like you aren’t trying to compensate for your own inadequacies!” She yelled, rage flowing through her and continuing when Sofia went to open her mouth, “I’m sick of the patronization hidden behind care. I’m sick of you making me feel bad for who I am,” y/n stepped over Rafe’s legs to stand on the floor and face her ex-best friend. Stalking toward her, “you’re always trying to fix people to make up for your lack of personality. Like everyone is in the wrong for being themselves just bc you’re too pathetic to know who you are. I’m done letting you do it to me. And I won’t let you do it to him,” she screamed pointing at Rafe who was on his back and holding himself up on his forearms as he watched the two ex-friends at each other’s throat. Turned on and feeling satisfied that the kitty claws he’s been working so hard to expose are finally out. A sick smirk on his face as he stared at Sofia.

“For months, you complained about him to me before I came here. How he was ‘unhinged’ and how you could help him. Make him better. And it wasn’t until I met him that I realized how wrong you were! Maybe he’s not perfect, maybe he’s rough and mean and fucked up! But that’s what makes him, him! And i love it! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I need to put on an act, like I need to be perfect. He loves me for who I am not what he feels he can make into and I feel the same about him. So maybe we’re fucked up! But at least we’re not a miserable cunt who’s hellbent on fixing people because she can’t fix herself.” Finished y/n, her arms crossed against her bare tits as she stared Sofia down whose tears were running down her cheeks, face red with emotion and chest heaving. To add to insult Rafe let out a low whistle at y/n’s words and a small chuckle with an “ouch.” Watching as Sofia’s eyes left her staring contest with her best friend to him, not making any effort to move from her spot.

“You can leave Sofia, we don’t want you here. Ever.” taunted y/n, turning on her heels to walk back to bed and climbing in it while Rafe shuffled over to the other-side. Right arm widening to encase her with it as his left forearm held him up. Immediately wrapping his arm around y/n as she got near, the two smashing their lips together with a passionate kiss to add salt to the wound. Not letting up until they heard footsteps stomping out of the room and down the hallway. Rafe pulling back with that sick smirk on his face as he yelled out for Sofia to hear “don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Both of them turned to the doorway and listening as they heard her sobs deepening and steps become quicker. The glass door slamming shut and letting them know she’d left.

They turned to face each other with wicked smiles as they smashed their lips together, Rafe using the arm wrapped around her to push her body onto the mattress and press himself flush to her. “That was so fucking sexy, you mean it? You love me? Flaws and all?” he smiled into her lips, chest feeling warm with love as she giggled and nodded. Kissing him again before saying, “as long as you love mine.” Eyes staring into his for confirmation that he quickly gave her, “baby Imma love all of you for as long as you let me. I don’t want some faux-perfect bitch, I want my girl who’s freak matches mine.” Capturing her lips again and ready to go for another round. Grinding against her till she pulled back with worry in her eyes, “wait! what about my stuff she’s gonna wreck it!” y/n whined and kicked her leg into the mattress.

“Don’t worry about it princess, I’ll replace it all and more.” He chucked and went to recapture her lips when she pushed against chest that slipped inbetween them, crying out a, “but Rafey some of that stuff is vintage! Irreplaceable!” Whining and pouting her lips as Rafe rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed both her hands in his large one, pinning them to the bed as he dominated her once more.

“Shuddup and let me love you. Such a brat. You’re lucky I love you so damn much.”

𑁤. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 𑁤

a/n: damn i feel bad for Sofia ngl. the way i described Sofia was just for plot purposes! i just feel like Rafe needs a bougie baddie idk!

© 2024 | rafesplaymate

[volturissideslut]

Hello!! I'm so sorry to ask but if it's okay can you do a thingy with the Volturi (all of them please) on how they would react to their human mate being on their 🩸🩸if you know what I mean. If not that is completely understandable and okay! Thank you for reading!! :3 🌹🫶

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

Contains some nsfw thoughts. I've been thinking of writing a period nsfw fic with one of the vamps, lmk what you think

Aro, like most vampires, has been around for a long long time. And though he does not regard humans as being worthy of his time, you are different. You are his mate. And so he takes it upon himself to learn everything. To read studies, to understand your experience, to know what he can do to help you. The Volturi donates to charities of endometriosis and others. Even long after you are turned he continues, the money is nothing to him and even though you no longer live you know. Aro will always do his best to understand you

Marcus would be so attentive with you and just do as you ask. He's a rather mellow and agreeable man (at least with you he is) and so he is more than happy to be at your beck and call. Want space? you got it. Want to basically be one with him from how close you are? He's laid down and waiting for you to get yourself comfortable. The man just keeps his mouth shut and does as you ask. Happy wife happy life, a phrase taken a little to literally for him in her every moment.

Caius just wants to eat you out honestly. Please ride his face, let him eat you out and taste your blood. He has also heard that it can help with any cramps and pains so, not to worry, dear Caius is at your service. Who is he to refuse you? To refuse a meal and a feast all in one would just be wrong.

Jane only experienced them for a few years, and though she doesn't necessarily remember them she is the most empathetic. Outwardly she may not do much - but in the privacy of your own shared chambers there is nothing you can compare. Nothing soothes like her gentle touch, or the natural remedy passed from her grandmother to her mother to her, and now you.

Alec is another who is at your beck and call, and though he will perhaps tease you a little, he wouldn't take it too far. Sly comments and little pokes are common, but all in good jest. He would never want to actually upset you of course, but if it brings a little smile to your face with an exasperated roll of your eyes then at least he knows you're happy. And if you're happy then so is he.

Demetri also eats you like a man starved. He doesn't care if there is blood all down him, or all in his mouth. You are gorgeous, ravishing even, and he just can't get enough. He could live buried between your thighs, especially during that time of the month. The taste of you is unlike any other to him, and we all know that this man likes it a little dirty and rough.

Felix calls you his whiny baby but still is there for whatever you may need. Tummy rubs, head scratches, couples yoga, he's got you. Don't want to walk or even stand? He's picked you up from the same comfortable position you were in to move you to the fresh bubble bath he's ran for you, setting you down gently in there. Honestly, you could cry from how much you love and appreciate him. Whiny baby, you just need to be loved, don't you?

[whirlybirbs]

BEYOND THE VOID — !

1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

( MASTERPOST   |   AO3  |    SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing:  a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.

"Okay."

"Okay."

There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster. 

In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.

"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague. 

"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock." 

"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.

"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"

"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"

Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.

She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.

Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"

On the other side of the door, your heart clenches. 

It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?

All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate. 

ALL I WANT  TO DO IS  GO HOME.

You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.

"Oh, uh... Hi guys."

Sigurd meows.

"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"

Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.

"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."

There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot. 

The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah. 

Like, big woah.

Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig. 

But this?

This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade. 

Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was. 

LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...? 

There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.

You swallow.

Your face is set in horror.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"

IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.

You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"

Then, it happens.

The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all. 

"Jane, don't."

Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...

Jane's face freezes.

Her brows knit.

Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"

"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.

Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."

Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.

"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"

Your eyes flicker with fear. 

And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter. 

Your voice is far away.

"It all started that Thursday."

You thought it would be better now that someone knows. 

Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future. 

It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning. 

You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not. 

So far, acting seems to be the best course of action. 

But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.

If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused. 

You hope it all works out for her in the end. 

But, Christ this coffee is bitter. 

You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am. 

Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work. 

Mondays, man.

Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior. 

Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract. 

And so this has been home for the last four months. 

Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.

No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras. 

...No Loki.

But, plenty of whispers. 

It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one. 

Your voice is soft.

"Bruce, try the equation again."

From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.

You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.

And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.

"So it was right."

"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."

Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern. 

(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)

"Now, that was mean."

"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny. 

"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it. 

Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do. 

"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"

"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now. 

"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."

"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."

"None," Tony waggles a finger.

"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you. 

"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark. 

Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.

WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK. 

You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to. 

"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."

So you've heard.

"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."

"Understandable," you mutter absently.

Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."

...Indeed.

Home.

Unit 1131. 

Lonely.

It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it". 

Now, it's none of that.

Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.

You drop your bag by the door. 

Your boots follow in a trail. 

Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.

But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.

It's that photo. 

The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.

Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.

It's you.

You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief. 

You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again. 

Regret is a hell of a thing.

Grief, too. 

How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline. 

So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.

In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

That's the mission.

Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different. 

Loki is different.

They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that. 

The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday. 

1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time. 

2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.

3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.

And now!

They're in London. 

1977, huh. Zaniac. 

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

...Unless you find him first.

Loki isn't exactly thrilled. 

No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet. 

It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone. 

And he's here, wasting his damn time. 

Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time. 

Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.

(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)

"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...

Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.

"Or he's undercover."

As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."

It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks. 

On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. 

It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in. 

"Will there be a Zaniac Two?" 

The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact. 

"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"

Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time. 

"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"

"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki. 

The God sneers.

"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."

"Why thank you, Brad."

Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.

"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.

"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"

"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.

"No, no, uh, better—"

Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"

"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"

And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.

In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.

Your dress is green. Your hair is different.

There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis. 

"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."

You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."

Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"

Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.

"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."

The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt. 

His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin. 

"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.

Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.

Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers. 

He has to... He...

He needs you back. 

Now. 

[nikkeora]

For All the Mary Janes

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. what about the mary janes, then?

or, in which you're the mary jane to miles's spider-man

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x reader, e-42! Miles Morales x reader

warning(s); i didn’t have any specific gender or race for r in mind while writing, but rio calls r ‘mija’ once and i think that’s ab it

maybe some incorrect usage of Spanish? Spanish speakers who can respond to my weird questions pls hmu

maybe ooc but it’s been in my drafts so long i just wanted to get it out tbh

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

You and Miles were always joined at the hip. Your parents knew each other well, so your families were together a lot. Mr. and Mrs. Morales saw you like their own daughter, often joking that you and Miles would be engaged when you got older with the way he could never leave you alone.

At least, up till around two years ago.

You and Miles started to grow apart when you got into Visions Academy. He thought it was a stupid school full of stuck-up rich kids who only cared about making connections that would help them along further down the line. You thought it was a good school that had a good track record of producing students that had a lot of success in what they wanted to do.

Some things were said the day before your transfer.

Since then, the two of you rarely texted or called. Mrs. Morales would often come by for coffee with your mom, tell you about how her son was doing and gush over 'how much you've grown' from last Tuesday, but that was about the only way you knew the vague outline of what he was up to.

You'd admit you felt lonely for a while. After all, Miles had been your best friend ever since you could remember. But you also weren't going to go running to him after everything he'd said.

I mean, was it really that bad to want a good future?

Soon enough though, you felt like yourself again. You met new people, made new contacts, and actual friends. Because contrary to popular belief, the people there weren't all mini business men and heartless CEOs in the making. They were just kids, after all.

And then, Miles won the draw. Just a few weeks before the start of the new semester, your parents mentioned that he'd be going to your school from now on in passing.

You didn't think much of it at first. I mean, everyone has that one childhood friend that they fell apart with, right? For the first week or so, you didn't even see his face much. In fact, you didn't see him at all, not even a glimpse in the halls.

That was about to change drastically.

Short story shorter, you caught a glimpse of him walking on the side of the school with pigeons stuck to his hands. A month or two later, Spider-Man climbed through your dorm window, ripping off his mask and ranting about some villain of the week.

"I couldn't even catch the guy-"

"Miles?"

"...You're not Ganke."

The two of you made up that night. He apologized, admitting he was being unfair and was upset that you were leaving his school. It didn't exactly clear everything, but it was a start. The two of you caught each other up on everything they had missed. In the end, the sun was about to come up and the both of you realized you hadn't gotten a minute of sleep on a school night.

From then on, the two of you get closer again. He went to you for the occasional rant or patch up, and he actively sought you out in school now, relieved to see a familiar face in the halls. Gradually, you got close to the point you'd call him one of your best friends and vice versa after around a year of radio static.

Everything was great. He was cute, funny - in an awkward way, but hey, he made you laugh - he looked out for you, and when he talked to you he did this cute little thing where he would play with the strings of his hoodie which he somehow always managed to layer on with like two other jackets and—

Oh yeah, did we mention the crush you had on him?

Because there was one.

Big huge one, right here. Materialized out of thin air looks like.

Which should have been fine. You were perfectly capable of hiding a crush. I mean, come on, it's high school. You would've been eaten alive if you couldn't.

Normally, you would even be confident that you could make your crush like you back. I mean, why wouldn't he?

Two words. One person.

Gwen Stacy.

It was like he could never go even one conversation without mentioning her.

Slight exaggeration? Maybe. Maybe not.

"Oh yeah, that's cool! Y'know, Gwen told me one time that—"

"You got an A, I knew you could do it! I told you so. Did you know Gwen got A's in—"

"Oh hey, you got your hair cut! Reminds me of that time when me and Gwen—"

At first, it was bearable. Sure, she came up annoyingly often whenever you talked, but she had just left this dimension, never to be seen again. Of course he was gonna miss her.

You laughed at all his stories, listened to every one even though he told the same six or seven ones over and over again. You even grew to like Gwen, as if you'd known her for the short amount of time Miles did, too.

But then two months passed. Then six. Then a whole year. Before you knew it, a year and four months had passed since the departure of Gwen Stacy.

And he still. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.

You had tried to understand. You really did.

But you can only hear the same damn jokes so many times before you get a migraine.

Pick any story. You could list off every variation of how Miles would tell it off the top of your head.

Gwen Stacy became the daughter of one of your mom’s friends, so to speak. That one girl in the neighborhood you couldn’t help but envy.

And worst of all, it was like he wished you were her.

Whenever you did something, he would tell you how Gwen could do it better. He would ask you whether or not you thought Gwen would like certain trinkets he found around town, and kept a collection of them in one of his drawers so he could give them to her one day. He was even studying quantum physics instead of art so that he could make his own multiversal gateway - a safe one, so that he could unlock the multiverse, possibly for good.

It hurt when he zoned out while you were telling him about you, thinking about her; your day, what you wanted to study, how your parents were fighting a lot again lately and you were struggling because of it, how you'd joined a new band—

"A band, huh?" Miles suddenly perked up, finally looking up from his sketchbook. "Did I tell you Gwen's in a band? It's called the Mary Janes—"

"Miles would you please stop?"

A pause, both of you mildly surprised at how you'd snapped at him.

The two of you were at your dorm, seated side-by-side on the bed with your legs folded in front of you. It was Friday, the day before Mr. Morales’s pre signing-in party.

The boy looked at you, a questioning look on his face. "What's wrong?"

And that tilt with his head - he really didn't know, did he? You couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"Miles, I know Gwen's in a band," He tried to say something, but you didn't let him speak before you continued. "I know she's a drummer, I know she does ballet, I know she had to shave half of her head because you couldn't control your powers - hell, the whole school knows that—"

"C’mon, don’t bring that up—"

"—I know every single story she told you while she was here, and I know every single detail of what you two did and how you did it. And I know she does everything I can do and she does it better. I’m tired of hearing it, Miles." His eyebrows furrowed, a slightly hurt look flashing across his face. "I’m sorry you miss her and I’m sorry she’s gone, but I just can’t be around you if all you’re gonna do is compare me to her."

A moment of silence settled in the air. You hoped Miles would understand. Surely, he’d see how tedious this was getting.

"All I’m asking is for you to tone it down."

Another beat passes without a word from the boy. He’s looking into your eyes, but it doesn’t seem like he’s all there. Like there’s a world past your irises that he’s seeing for the first time.

"I- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t do that." Miles finally says, his gaze turning away from yours and to the sketch he’d been working on for the last hour. You glanced down at it as well, the bright blue eyes of the one and only Gwen Stacy meeting yours.

"You’re the only one I can talk to on this," he said quietly, softly closing the sketchbook and tapping a finger nervously on the cover.

"Ganke?"

"Ganke’s fine, he’s great, he’s just.. not someone I can go to for these things."

You took a deep breath, the guilt of having to tell him ‘no’ building up in your chest. You knew his relationship with his parents were complicated at the moment, and he didn’t really have friends outside of you and Ganke. But still.. it was like he wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in your life ever since your initial reconnection.

It wasn’t like you expected a complete 50:50 give-and-take in relationships, but honestly you felt like you were talking to a robot with very limited audio cues.

"Miles, you don’t listen to me anymore. The only time you actually respond to anything I say is when it’s something even remotely related to Gwen."

"That’s not true!" Miles protested. You watched as he tried to find something to argue his point, only to come up empty. His shoulders sagged a little.

"But you gotta understand, Gwen - I’m not gonna see her again, at least until I figure out.. everything." He said in a quiet voice. "I need to talk to someone. Can’t you understand?”

"I’m not trying to shut everything down, I’m just asking you to pay attention to me every once in a while." You sighed. "And if you’e not willing to do that… do you even think of me as a friend?"

-

Miles left your dorm not long after that little talk, sneaking out the same way he snuck in; through the window. You dug your nails into your palms, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm to push down any sadness you may have felt. It was the second time you and Miles had grown apart, this time maybe your fault a little more than his. It felt like it, anyway.

Still, you felt like you’d done the right thing.

You hoped so, anyway.

-

It was an hour before Jeff Morales’s technically-not-captain-yet-but-will-be-soon celebration. Your dad and yourself had come early to prepare everything and set up all the decorations. Your mom apparently ‘couldn’t make it’. It was the third time in the last two weeks she cancelled on plans that your dad was involved in.

You stacked red plastic cups on one of the tables, a cooler full of ice and two-litre soda bottles to your left. Miles’s parents had insisted they didn’t need any help, but your dad had insisted right on back that the two of you wanted to. You didn’t mind. You’d cleared your evening for the event anyway, so it’s not like you had anything better to do.

The one thing that made you kind of regret coming was your lack of a jacket. It’d been really sunny in the morning, so you’d figured it would be a warm night. A breeze picked up and sent a light chill through your body, causing you to just barely shiver.

"Mija," Mrs. Morales called, coming up from behind you and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You’re freezing."

"Oh, I’m fine, mama," you replied, smiling at her. She gave you a look that said ‘we both know that isn’t true’.

"Miles might have something in his room," she suggested, "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his clothes."

You thanked her but refused, claiming it might get warmer once the guests started to arrive and the party was at full swing. She must have noticed something was off when she mentioned Miles, because she raised an eyebrow and shook her head lightly before asking,

"What did he do now?"

Either you’re really bad at hiding things from her or her motherly sixth-sense worked on you too. You hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. After all, Rio had always been like a mom to you.

"We had a fight - if you can even call it that, anyway, about a girl," you said, fiddling with a plastic cup. "We’re not on real good terms right now, I don’t think…"

Rio looked slightly surprised for a moment, then something seemed to click into place. She sighed and put her hands on your cheeks. "He’s a little bit slow," she said, giving you a sympathetic smile. "But he’ll get there. Eventually."

She then squished your face before immediately letting go, making you laugh. "Now go get yourself a jacket. I don’t want my only daughter to freeze to death."

You held your hands up in surrender as she pointed to the stairs, swiftly making your way down to the Moraleses’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents used to have full on screaming matches in the middle of the living room every other day.

Within a couple minutes you’d grabbed one of the dozen coats, hoodies and jackets strewn about Miles’s closet, pulling the soft material over your shoulders as you took a glance around his room. Everything was about the same as you’d seen two or three weeks ago, save for a few new stickers laid about the desk.

There was an all-too-familiar sketchbook on the bed, one similar to what Miles had been scribbling in last night in your dorm, just in a different color. This one looked a bit more used, so you supposed he’d gotten it and packed it full of Gwen Stacy just after she left this reality. The thought put a bitter taste on your tongue.

-

A half an hour into the party, Miles still hadn’t showed up. He was supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago, and you could tell his parents were getting both worried and annoyed. Rio asked around for her son as Jeff chatted with some colleagues. Suddenly, an auntie shoved a mic into Mrs. Morales’s hand, drawing everybody’s attention to her by clinking her glass. Jeff looked away in what could only be described as complete horror.

"Um, hi…"

You grinned as she continued with embarrassing stories about her husband, from little anecdotes from when they were dating to how he was almost 10lbs as a baby. It was then that Mr. Morales jumped in, quickly taking the mic away from her and giving his own speech.

"—And to my son…"

You grimaced as he raised his cup, looking around for someone who wasn’t there. The two of you met eyes instead, and you shook your head to tell him he hadn’t showed with an apologetic look. He turned to his wife, only for her to do the same. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"…The reason I do any of this in the first place. So.. I love you Miles."

Afterwards, the DJ put the records on again. People are talking, laughing, congratulating, creating a warm, buzzing atmosphere. You’re dragged away by a few little kids to play with them over by a small cluster of barrels, which they’ve decided is their ‘lair’. You play make believe with them for a little while as their parents stand a bit away with your own dad, occasionally glancing over at you to make sure the kids are behaving.

It’s then that Miles finally shows up, pushing the door open with two boxes in his arms. You follow him through your peripheral vision as he tries to avoid his parents, ultimately failing. You’re not sure what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to be going that well. He shows them the contents of his boxes, which doesn’t seem to impress them too much.

After a couple more words, Mr. Morales raises his voice, the DJ trying to divert people’s attention away by upping the volume but ultimately giving up.

"What do you got to tell me so bad?"

"You know what? Never mind."

Miles walked away, pulling his hood up as his dad yelled after him about him being grounded for two months. Must’ve been really bad, huh?

You waited for the music to come back on before you made your way to the exit, ruffling one of the little kids’ hair as he skittered away with his sister. You’re just going to check on him for a minute, just to see if he’s okay. You can do that… right? I mean sure, it might be awkward since things had ended like that last night, but still.

No one else was going to.

You let yourself into the flat once again, approaching Mile’s room with soft footsteps. You’re just outside the door when—

"Are these your drawings?"

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart freezes right along with you. For a moment, you felt like a deer in headlights.

A feeling crawls its way under your skin, cold and slippery. You don’t know how you know, but you’re absolutely positive.

"Missed you too."

Gwen Stacy.

-

You’re on your way home, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try to warm yourself up during the walk. You lived a little while away from Miles’s place, but it’s nothing you can’t walk.

You’d left the jacket on the Morales’ couch, turning on your heel and leaving the moment you heard her voice.

Damn it.

When had she gotten back? How had she gotten back? What was Miles’s reaction?

What were they doing now?

…Did you really want to know?

As your brain clouded over with questions, you took a wrong turn. Maybe two. Or three. Honestly, you didn’t know. Once you realized that this definitely wasn’t your neighborhood, you stopped yourself mid-step, looking around to see if anything was familiar at all.

Your eyes settled on a building, as there really wasn’t anything other than that around here other than some roads and bridges. One of the windows were glowing.

Then the whole structure began to rumble.

The ground beneath your feet started to turn… black…?

Wha—

-

You fell.

Not for too long, but you did.

You dropped around six feet onto hard concrete, twisting your ankle in the process. You cried out in pain and surprise.

"What the—?"

"Y/n?"

You looked up at that. You knew that voice.

Except, you didn’t.

The first thing you noticed is that this definitely was not the place you were in before. This place was more narrow, more dark. Light rain pattered on your skin as your hands supported your sitting position, wondering what the hell was going on.

The person who’d said your name was at the entrance to the alley you’d been.. teleported? to.

They took hesitant steps over to you, and, for some reason, you didn’t feel scared that this complete stranger had cornered you in a place you’d never even seen before.

Maybe the voice is what made you think it was alright.

Or maybe it was his face, which made your heart stop its primary function for the second time today.

"Miles?"

But he wasn’t Miles. At least.. not your Miles. This one was skinnier, just a little shorter. His accent had more of a Spanish touch to it and, most of all, his hair was braided into two sections that reached just below his shoulders.

No. He was very much not your Miles Morales.

Nevertheless, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. There was something in his eyes — regret? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of the above.

He got closer, and closer, and closer. Once he reached where you were half-laying, he crouched down and tilted his umbrella until it sheltered your body more than his.

"…Are you hurt?" He asked, giving you a once-over. You just nodded, still putting all the pieces together.

Had you—

Did you—?

The boy in front of you studied your face for a little while, but then ultimately shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to you.

"Come on. It’s cold outside."

[wheneverfeasible]

🧠🪱Wriggly Wednesday🪱🧠

Thank you for the tags my lovelies! @queenie-ofthe-void @steviewashere

So we all know the florist/tattooist trope, yeah? Steve is the pretty little florist and Eddie is the tough looking tattoo artist, maybe their shops are even next door to each other, or at least nearby. It’s a great trope.

Except…

Eddie is the florist and Steve is the tattoo artist.

A bit of modern AU here too maybe but…Eddie got in trouble as a kid selling stuff , okay? He ended up in juvie for a bit, and he was terrified that this was it and his uncle would finally declare him a lost cause just like his father, but…he doesn’t. He encourages Eddie, knows his nephew could be better than any other Munson, and it helps. Eddie wants to be better.

He handles juvie well, gives up dealing, and serves community service helping out at the local garden (it wasn’t his initial choice, but he takes to it almost immediately). After everything is all said and done, community service over and he’s fully free once more, he still volunteers at the gardens.

Eddie, he discovers, likes flowers. He likes discovering the meaning behind them, the totally rad Latin names of them, and he likes growing something from nothing and watching them bloom. Eventually, when he’s older, he opens his own little shop.

He doesn’t look like your typical florist, all dark colored clothes and long hair and tattoos and piercings, but he’s knowledgeable in what he does and his flowers always look so pretty and nice and he’s happy.

Steve was a pampered rich kid, until he wasn’t. He did sports, and he liked them, but not enough to make a career out of it. He never felt that pull towards anything. He did like babysitting well enough, even if the kids were more like friends than clients, but it wasn’t something he wanted to do forever either.

Will, one of the kids he babysat, was an artist. He sketched and painted and even took up a bit of pottery for a while, though that phase passed quickly. But Steve was intrigued by the drawings Will made. He tried to recreate them, and Will actually helped his technique a little, but it still wasn’t quite what Steve wanted to do.

And then one day, bored while waiting for his little friends to finish gawking at the nerd store he took them to in the city, Steve grabbed a pen from the counter and started his little doodles on his own arm, since he didn’t have any paper. And…he kind of liked that. One of the kids, Jane, noticed his drawing and held out her own arm for him to draw on. And he liked that a lot better.

After that, Steve began noticing tattoos on people. Permanent drawings that didn’t wash off, and things his father absolutely hated. And there were a lot of different styles, he noticed. And soon Steve was purchasing books about tattoo techniques and styles, about the history of tattoos in different cultures, and, with the last money he ever got from his father, he bought himself tattoo equipment and fake skin to practice on.

Steve really likes drawing, but he loves tattooing more. He looks nothing like your typical tattoo artist though, with his pastels and polos and styled hair that still speaks of his prep upbringing. He’s not covered in tattoos or piercings, but he slowly makes a name for himself. He gets a job in a studio, attends conventions and things, growing in skill and practice until one day he can afford his own little shop all his own.

When a new tattoo parlor opens up right next door to Eddie’s flower shop, he’s ecstatic at first. He could use a new tattoo. Then he meets the owner and there’s no way this jock looking pretty boy can handle the sort of ink that Eddie wants. He sees the work the man does, pretty watercolor flowers and cliché anchors, and figures the guy would run screaming for the hills if he had to tattoo a screaming skull or something.

Maybe they kind of snip at each other in passing, though Steve seems to enjoy it and laughs at Eddie’s sarcasm, and Eddie…Eddie likes his laugh and his smile. Maybe Steve buys a single flower one day, then tucks it into Eddie’s hair with a smirk before leaving silently, and Eddie…doesn’t know what to do with that.

Maybe one day Eddie sees an original piece Steve is working on, a bipedal monstrous creature with slimy looking skin and a head that opened into petals full of teeth. It was metal as fuck. Steve explains it’s his own interpretation of a monster from this game these kids (not kids anymore) he used to babysit would play, and Eddie…Eddie realizes he’s in very real danger of falling in love with this man.

Lucky for him, Steve is already smitten with the metalhead florist who works next door; he’s just been waiting for Eddie to catch up.

For their first date, Steve tattoos him for free, then they go and get honest to Satan milkshakes afterwards. Their next date, Eddie takes him to the local public gardens and tells him all about the flora there, their scientific names and history, and afterwards they get coffee and talk about what they want in life. Their third date they go to a vintage drive-in movie, though neither could tell you what it was they went to see, far too busy with…other pursuits.

A few years later, after Eddie says yes to the ring, they get matching tattoos of the other’s initials in the petals of a flower with teeth. When they get married, they get the date they met tattooed to their inner wrist.

Later, they add the date the little girl they adopt officially becomes part of their family. A few years after that, that same little girl grins as she watches a new date be added to their wrists, holding the boy who just became her little brother.

By the time Eddie and Steve retire, their wrists are full of dates. Eddie tends to a little garden outside their home, their kids helping out whenever they visit with the grandkids, taking over when Eddie just wants to sit and enjoy the flowers. Steve is there with him, a canvas open as he sketches and later paints Eddie and their family amongst the flowers.

Sometimes, as a little treat, he’ll even add a little demogorgon hidden amongst the blooms for Eddie to find. Eddie always likes those ones the best.

-

No pressure tags: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @fkinkindagauche @sp0o0kylights @skitchskatchbat and you guessed it, tagging you first 😤 @stervrucht

[timid-owl]

Don't get me wrong I absolutely adore the jane eyre cherik aus where Erik is Rochester and Charles’s the governess but -

I also love the concept of Mr Xavier, master of the house, some Earl of Viscount or whatnot, hireing a tutor for his wards and getting this angry mean strange gorgeous man without a penny to his name, a raging socialist who like reads Marx and goes to protests and helps assemble explosives for the suffragettes or something, and also has some beef with his lordship Sebastian Shaw, member of the parlament... 

and Charles - who's like the most enviable bachelor to ever bachelor, and a promising young scientist who studded at Oxford and had himself some fancy life going on there, and just got back and for some reason found himself with the house and the land and all these kids to take care of, and is just sweet and constantly overwhelmed - well he sees Erik and goes yep that's my man, come here let me teach you some kindness, and bribe your fine arse out of some shady business, and well i dispise violence but your ratio of nitroglycerin to gunpowder is not ideal, and Engels is much deeper won't you say, and do you maybe want to play some chess. And of course please by all means take all my money to go on your personal vendetta that I will absolutely help accomplish

Including: 

- traditionally, somebody swimming in a lake in a plain shirt, not realising they are being watched

- erik fixing mechanisms - clocks, bells, carriages, music boxes, whatever goes - in the house out of spiteful gratefulness

- erik and the children having to adapt to eachother but getting along brilliantly in the long run. Eric is methodical in his explanations but the children still need some help from charles to show them different facettes of thoughts ans concepts and help them reveal their full potential

- raven going to a sufragette protest with erik and getting slightely hurt, charles getting absolutely mental over it; some discussion about how change is always violent no it isn’t you just have to wait for people to accept it 

- erik getting jealous and possessive during a ball but also generally very sarcastic with the guests 

- charles reading stories in the evenings with voices and all, and maybe even some poetry and is he looking at Erik when he says "What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal"? and Erik's heart just melts 

- erik probably revealing that Shaw has ruined his family or something, and possibly has some evil plan to - whatever, pass a misanthropic bill,  overthrow the government, something something 

- is there a ghost in the house? I mean it might be a symbolical thing in Erik's head or it actually might be charles finding an absolute worst solution to help a mentally unstable (pyromaniac?) girl named jean for instance? Who knows

- some tension in the library? Yes definitely that

[beuxwhoyouare]

Rodeo Buckin’

Every year, my cousins and I take a fun and much needed trip to the rodeo. You might think it’s a little country, but it’s a real melting pot of cultures, the good food, the music, the performances, and ugh the food.

This year my cousin Jane brought her fiance and the whole family was left swooning.

Mario was such a mans man or at least the manliest man my cousins been with in her life. He was a gentleman to all of us offering to buy our food, hold our place in lines, or even giving our smallest cousins a boost to see all the action during the nights big events.

I was so tired from working overtime this week at work and almost fell into a ditch when Mario caught me. Wooo I don’t think a man has ever securely held me like that in my life. He wasn’t obscenely tall but he was well built and always clean cut. I think my cousin said he was a nurse or medical assistant of some kind so he also made good money.

We all split up to enjoy all the rodeo fun. After a few hours I headed to some of the petting zoo stuff just to relax after a long evening out in the heat. I turned the corner and found Mario near the restrooms making out with some other woman. I couldn’t help myself and loudly gasped at the sight. We all thought he was a gentleman but more than anything it proved he was just another whore. He turned to see me and began to hurriedly approach me and that’s when I ran to find my cousin and let her know the truth.

He was way more athletic than I was so I was at a disadvantage but to my aid came a security guard who saw the built man chasing me. But I was wrong, it was definitely not a security guard for the rodeo. I slid around a corner out of Mario’s sight when the stoic guard yanked me to the side. Mario ran by searching around for me but I was hidden behind the guard.

“Thank you sir, but why did you protect me?” I asked somewhat intimidated.

The stoic man stood above me and simply nodded. He guided me to an inconspicuous looking tent. He nudged me to walk inside and I obliged. I didn’t understand what I was looking at in the dim room. A weakly glowing orb in the middle of the room had what sounded like a crying creature inside of it. I began hearing a voice as I approached it cautiously despite not seeing any mouths moving on the small orange lizard looking creature inside the orb.

“I need a hostttttt.” the voice inseminated into my head.

“A host? I can’t really take in a pet or a roommate right now?” I said without trying to be too sarcastic.

“I sense you’re running from a predator….bring it here so I can live.”

“A predator? Oh do you mean Mario? What are you going to do to him?”

“He will be my host so I can continue living to conquer this planet.”

“I don’t really know how you’re going to do all that with Mario but I mean I can do my best.”

I left the tent and saw him still angrily searching for me nearby. I yelled his name before looking around as if I hadn’t. When he saw me he gunned it straight to me and I slowly walked back into the dark tent.

That’s when the stoic man grabbed Mario and restrained his arms behind his back. He then escorted my cousins fiance in front of the lizard like creature. The voice started making sounds that I couldn’t really make out as Mario yelled expletives at me to tell the man to let him go and when he got free he would mess me up.

The walls in the tent started thrashing around as if there was a hurricane outside and as I ran towards the door to see what was going on. A strong gust of wind pushed me back so hard I fell on the ground and hit my head before passing out.

When I came to I saw a figure checking itself out in a bright room mirror. My eyes came back into focus to realize that I was on the floor of the restroom at home and that figure was Mario. I recoiled out of fear that he was about to hit me. Mario continued buttoning up his shirt and turned around to me.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you. You saved me and I owe you my life.” Mario said as I curled up anticipating a strike.

“Oh! It’s you? You’re inside of Mario? So where is he?” I asked inquisitively.

“He’s gone…once we choose new hosts they’re no longer in existence anymore.”

“That’s kind of sad. But then again he was a freaking cheater.”

“Cheater? How did this Mario cheat? Was there a competition ongoing between you and him?”

“Well no, he was dating my cousin. He was making out with someone else.”

“Mating hmm? How do you humans make out? What’s the goal of the game?”

“Dating actually, but oh well I can show you maybe?”

The creatures naivety was my gain as I tried to hide devilish grin. Let’s be real, no matter who was piloting that body “Mario” is hot as hell.

“How did we get home anyways? Where is everyone?”

“Your group found us and I carried you to the car. They said you drank too much? They left back to the event and they asked if I would stay to take care of you, whatever that entails.”

“Great. I’m going to show you how you can take care of me.”

I lunged at the beefy man and put my hands on his neck. I used one hand to take off his hat and the other to caress the back of his neck as I went in to begin making out. I know he’s engaged to my cousin but screw that right now I needed to know for myself what made Mario so fine to so many people.

I ripped his shirt off and was greeted by a proud torso. Standing up straight and wide, strong arms, plump pecs, and shoulder that could throw me around into any position…and I wanted to put it to work. He stood there unsure what to do next and I moved down to yank his pants and boots off leaving me to view Mario in all his raw glory.

Oh my god that’s why so many people want him.

“How does that fit?” I stupidly asked as if Mario would have an answer.

“I don’t understand. Fit where?”

“Never mind. I just need you to keep thinking about what makes you excited and happy so you can help me out.”

The new Mario likely thought about conquering the world and not me like I wanted but nonetheless the objective was met. Mario's body knew what to do and while he was a shower, maybe he was also partially a grower. It was already thick but it’s getting thicker?

I eagerly greeted the scarily wide tool into my mouth and the new Mario finally had a human reaction. Moaning louder than I’ve ever heard Mario even make sounds. Insatiable is the only way I could describe how I felt. I kept wanting more and the creature kept cooing at the pleasure I was giving it. I could keep taking what it wanted while it got what it wanted. I guided his muscular hands to my the back of my head as he began bobbing my head up and down.

He started picking up the pace and I got an idea. Well I missed the rodeo so this was my change to ride the horse myself.

I got up and he looked at me with yearning eyes. He wanted to finish so badly but I remained in control. I turned myself around and bent over. I told him to put his hands on my waist and begin to buck it hard and fast. And did he ever. Using the muscles alien to his usage I could feel all the efforts Mario put in at the gym going in and out of me. Pleasure mixed with pain in the best ways.

I could tell he was nearing the big moment because he left me breathless. It was an unbelievable pounding. I didn’t actually think I’d be able to take him all but I was determined to feel it all myself.

“Unhh ohhhhnnnnn. What is thisssss?”

I could feel the warmth envelop my insides. Woah that was hands down the best I’ve ever had. I kinda wanted to go again. I bit my lip and told him that he would need to go take a shower while I collected myself.

I saw him take a few selfies as I got up to collect myself.

“On second thought I think I need to come with you to show you how to clean off Mario.” the devilish grin returned to my face

[starguardianniom]

Billy and Lighter

I love their dynamic so much.

Freaking Lighter of all people sees Billy as his worthy rival.

Ngl but I legit think it's because Billy is the only one he can fight without being afraid of passing out.

Given Lighter faints at the sight of blood and that Billy is an android, if Billy gets hurt he will probably leak oil, but no blood, which is perfect for Lighter.

I honestly, half-seriously thinks that's the sole reason Lighter considers Billy is rival, because he won't risk embarassing himself if he manages to hurt Billy while fighting as Billy has no blood for him to faint to.

But he also does respect him given he thinks highly of him and actually likes him like a brother too.

They playfully tease one another but you can also clearly see that Lighter has a high opinion of Billy and is also happy for him to have found happiness somewhere else too, and that's so wholesome, my heart.

I was pratically screaming of joy in my head the entire time yesterday when I speedrun the chapter (I had the day off lucky me so I used it to clear out chapter 4 entirely yeah!).

I took so many pictures, will upload them this weekend, now I need to go do that certification exam to get my people to level 50, given I need to level up pretty much everyone I have right now (Billy, Anby, Nicole, Corin, Soukaku, Ben, Anton, Seth, Jane and Lucy are the characters I currently have the game refuses me Piper and just sended me a lil army of Corins, Anby and Soukaku, now I have Anby and Soukaku to M4 and Corin to M3, though it gave me Billy M2 and Seth M2 thank god) I'll be at it for a while.

But honestly I expected Lighter to be a bit more mean toward Billy and feeling superior to him but it seems like I was worried for nothing, Lighter loves Billy and Billy loves him back, though I'm pretty sure Billy also thinks that he wasn't able to escape Lighter entirely given he now has Anby around. XD Lighter keeps forgetting things and Anby keeps forgetting the line between fiction and reality, I imagine Billy must be used to Anby because he had to spend half his time reminding Lighter of stuff all the time. XD

I swear Billy had it better than Lighter back then, given he was the Champion that means he was the strongest of the Sons of Calydon, which means he's stronger than Big Daddy, and Big Daddy is most likely the one who raised and taught Caesar how to fight, so if she didn't get the title of Champion back then, then Billy was most likely strong enough to beat her too and Big Daddy. But then he left. But he also got to meet Lighter before that, but Lighter is weaker than Caesar but still has the title for some reason, so it's a bit murky there as to why they needed 2 champions.

I think Billy wanted to leave or something happened that made him leave and then Big Daddy brought in Lighter to pick up his title but Billy sticked around long enough to make sure Lighter was up for the job given they have a good brotherly friendly rivalry relationship together so once Billy thought Lighter was ready he gave him his title and left. And then Caesar got to be the new boss of the Sons of Calydon when Big Daddy retired, and was strong enough that she was able to beat Lighter apparently.

But the title of Champion is basically being the number 2 of the gang, so if the leader isn't around it's most likely the champion calling the shots and making sure everything is alright and settling disputes and what nots, but since Lighter is pretty scatterbrained, most of the duties went to Lucy while Lighter is just now extra muscles, since Lucy is pretty much the one making sure everything is alright and being the brains of the Sons, but she clearly doesn't have the strenght to be the Champion because Lighter is the one with that title.

So I imagine Billy used to handle negotiations and relations and other stuff with Big Daddy before he left and probably used to be deadly efficient, in some parts of the story he is a lot more aware and shrewd than he presents himself most of the time, such as asking us about the H.D.D and asking why we'd bother to be proxies when we could have done so much more and get a much more lucrative job, or when he was ready to sell us out to PubSec to save the Cunning Hares and himself pointing out that the Cunning Hares could get their record cleaned if they reported a proxy, which was a very smart way of thinking given their situation back then. He is also knowledgeable about the Outer Ring, so he is way much smarter than he acts too.

I do feel like Billy is seen as a superior predecessor to Lighter and while Lighter doesn't resent Billy at all for it he also feels the need to prove himself to him in some way to live up to his "brother's" legacy.

Lucy probably didn't have much to do until Billy left and Big Daddy retired. Then she basically became the second half of the Champion title in the Sons of Calydon, being the brain to Lighter's brawn, but Billy before them had the title on his own to the point that he is still feared today by other people in the Outer Ring.

It does beg the question of what was Billy like back then, probably less happy and more brutal and having the mindset of a weapon maybe, but he was still cared for a lot.

I also like to think that Big Daddy called him Billy Kid because he honestly saw Billy as "his" kid when he bought him from a group of drifters, now I really want the whole story, if they release Big Daddy and Lighter, give them more content with Billy, I need more, Hoyo!

[simpingforheros]

Jason Todd Head canon 1#

I’m bored at work so I’m giving yall silly headcannons to make y’all smile. This is very crack! Headcanon vibes because I’m manic as well right now. But, I love my toxic zombie boy.

Redhood! Jason Todd X Batgirl! Reader

If they had became vigilante’s together, they would definitely reconnect after Jason starts to forgive the BatFam.

Would definitely always pair up with her just so they can cause some mischief during patrols.

Definitely play up the flirting in-front of civilians and would definitely encourage shipping just to annoy Bruce.

Would ditch galas to do riding around.

You two basically just resume your friendship until one night, you both got drunk after hanging out at Roy’s and yall wake up the next day with a broken bed and tattoos on y’all’s hips.

If You became batgirl after Jason’s death, God bless you

Jason would be hard on you with the intimidating and dickish act for a long ass time.

He wasn’t as bad as he was with the others because he understands that you weren’t involved with his death and you weren’t a replacement for him as much as you were Oracle’s.

When the moody stage finally passes and he realizes that you won’t put up with his tantrums, he will try a new approach.

Red hood becomes known as a menace to Batgirl in the media.

Whether it be he would somehow end up saving Batgirl while being a snarky ass hole or do behaviors that would cause her blushing face to be on the covers of tabloids.

At the manor, the pair bicker almost as much as they bonded over common interests.

Now the arguments revolve around those interests even if half of them started because of joke either one of them started.

“Bridgerton is just a horny girl’s excuse to not read Jane Austen” “Take that shit back right now!” “Make me.”

When the feelings actually start to develop, the bickering and the flirtation gets so bad that they become the most shipped ‘enemies to lovers’ ship among the tabloids and Gotham’s youth.

Finally, tension boils over when an incident happens where Batgirl was almost killed by a major villain.

Oh shit, Red Hood was not very happy to find out that Batgirl was currently in a hospital bed after a failed recon mission.

He went head hunting after that 🫢 Not that kind of head.

After that, Jason became unbearably protective of her. Volunteering to be on patrol with her, driving her to appointments, stalking her , breaking in coming over to her room/apartment to hang out.

It all boiled over after a heated and trauma dumping confrontation between the two where the neighbors/residents of the manor heard screaming, yelling, maybe a broken vase, and some creaming.

Red Hood! Jason Todd X Civilian! Reader

Ngl y’all, Jason dating a civilian would probably be a little toxic.

He’s either gonna date someone so fucking sweet that it fuels his need to be a protector and act as a balm to his failure complex.

Or he’s gonna date someone as fucked up as him so he feels some form of trauma bond with them.

He probably would spot eyes with them in a busy setting and because he’s very good at reading people, he would immediately start his stalking because he wanted to know if he can trust them before building a relationship with them.

Would probably never approach them as the Red Hood before meeting as Jason Todd unless it was a situation where he had to step in.

Secret lover boy with self sabotaging tendencies.

He would stage their first meeting as a form of meet-cute scenario. Most likely on the street or a bookstore.

Would play the long game of meeting by ‘chances’ and casual little conversations.

Has a weird prey/predator mentality where he wants them to give him their number first or ask him out first but he’s the one actually pursuing them.

If they started dating, he would treat things very slowly or very casually depending on which type they are.

If it’s the sweet one, he’ll play it slow and gentlemanly, like the romance movie lead.

He wouldn’t want intimacy or pressure anything like that even if he constantly thinks about it.

Maybe a little less toxic but more manipulative.

“Oh baby, there’s been a ton of robberies around that area. Let’s just go riding then we can go see that movie you been talking about.”

“Sweetheart, I love how precious you are, but I’m really busy right now. How about I swing by after work with some treats I already had picked out for you.”

His true nature would come out eventually. His vulnerability would show more, but by then his sweet little partner would be so loving and understanding.

They would comfort his nightmares and rub his aching muscles.

It would be 1.5 to 2 years into dating before he would reveal he’s Red Hood.

The fucked up one is getting toxic Jason.

This pairing probably met at a bar/party, and their relationship started out as a casual friends with benefits.

The two would become closer faster than he would with a sweet one, but oh my god, y’all fight for your lives.

Arguments are usually loud and heard throughout the apartment building before they would either screw iy out or have to separate.

Jason would eventually return with either dinner or a gift to apologize. He learnt that from his daddy Brucie.

Unless that man is down bad, in love, he ain’t telling y’all anything.

Anytime he gets asked about where he’s going to at night,

“It’s none of your business.”

“Work, don’t worry I’ll tell her you asked.”

“You know I’m busy.”

Don’t worry, the longer you two stay together, he sweeter he becomes.

Our toxic king will get better and less toxic.

It takes him to the moment he realizes that you really aren’t gonna leave him and that you love his fucked up ass, for him to tell you he’s the Red Hood.

+++++++++++

AN: That’s all I got for right now. Let me know if you want an Arkham Knight version or if I need to calm down with our Toxic King.

+++++++++++

[jammydodger3579]

Mary Jane Mindset

Summary: Wade and Logan get stoned together.

A/N: this was requested on discord, so hopefully yall like it. Haven't written for Wade before so enjoy. Sorry it's short lol. Patreon here

18+ for mature audiences only

700+ word count.

Warnings: drug use, swearing

“No, absolutely not” 

“Come on, just once... It’s a rite of passage!”

“I’ve done it before and I didn’t like it” Logan looked at the bong in front of him. It was disgusting, bright pink and covered in my little pony stickers. He looked at Wade, who was smiling like a schoolgirl. “Didn’t even work, healing factor and all”

“Not this strain, I grew it myself. From a wee baby plant. I call it “Bruce Banner” cause it’s big, mean and green. Could probably get him stoned too. God knows he needs it” 

“Have you even cleaned this thing?” He picked up the bong, looking at it questioningly. Wade shook his head. 

“Not even once. Keeps the good stuff in” Logan sighed, placing it back down on the coffee table. Wade walked into the kitchen and looked around in a drawer for a bit before walking back to the couch. He chucked some rolling papers at Logan. “Here, is that better?” Wade said, looking at the man. Logan nodded. 

“Okay fine, just this once” Logan said, caving into Wade’s antics. Wade giggled and clapped his hands together. Logan had been living with Wade for the past three weeks, and they seemed to get along enough. Logan mostly tolerated him, especially since he was staying with Wade and Blind Al for free. Wade got out his rolling tray and started grinding up the flower. Logan scoffed, Wade’s whole set-up was pink and purple, and his grinder was the shape of a cinnamon roll. “Cute” 

“You know you love it. Yukio got it for me” “I’m sure she did” Logan handed the rolling papers over to Wade. He started rolling the joint, struggling a little. 

“We’re gonna need water, snacks and something to watch” Wade handed the tv remote to Logan. He flicked through the movie options before settling on one called The Room. “You picked the worst movie in the world!” 

“Not my problem” Logan said with a smirk. He got up and went to the kitchen. He got a bag of pretzels, chocolate biscuits and two glasses of water for himself and Wade. He placed everything down on the coffee table before resuming his seat next to Wade, who’s just finished rolling a joint. He put it between his lips and lit the end of it, puffing out the smoke. He took another puff before handing it to Logan, intentionally blowing smoke in his face. 

“Puff puff pass,” Wade said. Logan nodded, taking the joint. He took a drag, letting the smoke sit in his lungs for a while before exhaling. It had an earthy aftertaste. He did it again before handing the joint back to Wade. The two kept exchanging the joint as they watched the movie. Logan lifted his hand to point something out on the TV.

“Whoa, what the fuck” His whole arm felt like jelly as it was suspended in the air. Wade smiled, exhaling smoke through his nose. 

“You’re cooked” he laughed, looking at Logan. His eyes were bloodshot. Logan sat back on the couch. 

“Whoa, I feel like I’m sinking,” he said, shifting in his seat. Wade finished the joint off, putting it out in an ashtray. He was smiling, watching as Logan adjusts to being properly stoned for the first time. Logan looked around the room, his vision felt colourful. Everything seemed more vibrant and pretty. He looked at the man sitting next to him, face full of fondness. “How long is this gonna last?” 

“At least an hour, maybe longer. It’s trial by fire” Wade shrugged, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. “Man, I could nap right now” 

“Don’t fall asleep, tell me something interesting” 

“Okay well, have I ever told you about all the trolls movies?” Wade said, blinking to keep his eyes open. For the next half hour, Logan gave his full attention to Wade, listening intently. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved listening to Wade ramble on about something he found interesting. “OH oh oh!! This is my favourite part!” Wade said pointing at the TV. “I did not hit her. It’s not true. It’s bullshit! I did not hit her, I did not! Oh hi, Mark” Wade quoted, doing the accent and everything. Logan smiled at the impression.

“I see why this is the worst movie,” he said, laughing. He didn’t want to admit he was having fun, but his actions gave it away. Wade smiled. 

“Look at you, enjoying yourself. I need to get you stoned more often” 

“Let's not make a habit of it” Logan said in a gruff voice, but he smiled afterwards. He grabbed the bag of pretzels and started eating. Food felt even more delicious than usual.

“There are other drugs we can try” 

“Absolutely not” 

[yamujiburo]

Do you think you could info dump all that you know about Madame Boss and Mayomoto with drawings? I would love to know more about their dynamic and about young Giovanni with baby Jessie. Maybe Delia could ask Jessie about it in a comic? Would it be sad or nostalgic? Maybe both? Like a flashback or something would be cool! Anyway, love your art and everything that you do!! ❤️

I'm not sure I can get it out in just drawings (just because it's a lot) but I have quite a few I've already done if you wanna look through my tags~ I'll also explain a bit here with some of my old comics. Long post under the cut~

Canonically, Madame Boss is the founder of Team Rocket and Giovnanni's mother. Miyamoto was one of her elite agents and Jessie's mother. They're REALLY close as evidenced by how they talk to one another (ex. Madame Boss calling Miyamoto "Miyamoto chan", Miyamoto's informal way of speaking to Madame Boss despite her being her superior, their friendly banter, etc.). Madame Boss sends Miyamoto and two other Team Rocket members on a mission to find Mew, but she and the other members never return. Miyamoto's implied to still be alive, endlessly chasing Mew with Jessie as her north star and reason to keep going. Madame Boss passes away sometime between the radio drama and before the events of the first Pokémon Movie. You can listen to the whole drama here! Madame Boss and Miyamoto are primarily in the first part, but Miyamoto pops up at the end of each of the other parts at different periods of time.

This is more where my headcanons begin! Miyamoto, whose dub name I hc being (Calamity) Jane, joined Team Rocket mostly because of her not great circumstances. She works her way up the ladder quickly and impresses Madame Boss. They become close but at the time, Miyamoto was dating a charismatic performer/con man that MB, not so subtly, doesn't approve of. She was right to not approve as this man got Miyamoto pregnant but left her before he'd known.

Madame Boss, despite her penny pinching behavior (Team Rocket wasn't that big yet), does what she can to help out Miyamoto. They had to tread carefully though, they didn't want anyone thinking there was any sort of favoritism happening.

Jessie is born, and for a little while Miyamoto keeps her and raises her the best she can. On more short term missions she'd leave her with Madame Boss, who's not super fond of children, and would have her own son Giovanni watch her (or have another grunt in Team Rocket watch her). This wasn't sustainable, so Miyamoto quickly puts Jessie in foster care (the foster care part is canon). Miyamoto would still visit her daughter whenever she could.

Ultimately, Miyamoto was a very driven, one track minded woman. She would constantly go on missions and after discovering Mew, became obsessed. It was around this time Madame Boss was starting to catch feelings for Miyamoto. Miyamoto would play along but was not nearly as invested in their relationship is Madame Boss was. Not in a malicious or leading on sort of way, she just had a job she wanted to get done

When it was time for Miyamoto to go on the mission to actually find Mew, Madame Boss, while excited at the prospect of getting her hands on a legendary Pokémon and the money that came with that, began to worry in the days leading up to the mission and tried to get Miyamoto to stay. She offered to send a different team out. To her they were disposable, but Miyamoto wasn't. Miyamoto didn't take the offer, wanting the glory and money of finding Mew for herself (but also had a daughter she wanted to get back to and be able to provide for). She leaves and goes MIA

Madame Boss is brokenhearted and after several years of Miyamoto going missing, is not able to run Team Rocket, troubled by the immense amount of guilt and heartache, and Giovanni takes over. She remains in the organization, more so operating in the background. It was rare for agents to see her out and about. But years later she sees Jessie's joined Team Rocket as a trainee. She requests Viper and Giovanni keep an eye out for her. Viper doesn't know why but does as he's told. Giovanni understands, remembering Jessie as the little toddler he'd have to take care of many years ago as well as her mother Miyamoto, who he knew was very close to his mother.

Not too long after, Madame Boss passes away but Giovanni keeps his promise and continues to keep Jessie employed.

I don't think Jessie remembers much of her mom or anything from around this time. I don't think she even remembers her mom being in Team Rocket or Giovanni babysitting her. She just remembers her mother leaving and never coming back and holds some resentment, not knowing the context of why Miyamoto disappeared.

I've thought about doing a story where Miyamoto returns in my hanamusa au but I still gotta think it out more. It starts with Miyamoto stopping by Delia's restaurant and she and Delia talk, not knowing the little connection they have via Jessie.

[lavnderwonu]

book lovers | wen junhui

pairing: bookish!jun x bookish!fem!reader

genre: college au, strangers to lovers, fluff, smut

rating: mature

summary: working at your campus library and attending classes gets kinda lonely, until someone comes along and changes that.

warnings: contains smut (!!!), meet-cute, jun is tooth rottenly sweet (yes! that’s a warning!), semi public sex (in a library), unprotected sex, kinda sorta a quickie(?) idk its sorta rushed, bigdick! jun, size kink, oral sex (f. receiving), multiple orgasms.

mini playlist 🎵: into you by ariana grande, little bit by lykke li, feel you by okayceci

word count: 2.3k

author’s note!: AHHHH this was so much fun to write. i literally spent so much time daydreaming about this whole plot & the characters. im a little women enthusiast & a classic book lover, i know im a nerd! also i will always always find an excuse to write fluff. i just love love love writing cute shit! im sort of a sucker for it. THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG TOO LMAO but as always, i appreciate any feedback, & i hope you enjoy! 🩷

click here to join my taglist!

“So… you’re assignment is to read the passage, then write a minimum 3 page essay whether you agree or disagree with the author’s viewpoint.”

Your professor gestures to the board behind him, emphasizing how important it is to acknowledge.

“Due by Monday, I won’t be giving any extensions. Class dismissed.”

“Y/n.” Your friend nudges you, as you currently have your face buried in your book, totally ignoring the lecture. “C’mon, class is over… did you even hear what the assignment was?”

You shut your book, Little Women, a book you’ve read numerous times but you never got sick of. It was a million times more appealing than hearing your literature professor ramble during a lecture.

“Yeah… some three page essay.” You remark, tossing the book in your bag. “I gotta hurry, I have a shift at the library for a few hours. Text me the assignment, okay?”

She nods. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later.”

You quickly grab your binder & notebook and walk out of class, headed for the library.

You’re about halfway there, until someone passing by bumps your shoulder, knocking your things to the ground.

Crouching down to pick them up, you hear somebody shouting sorry! in the distance as you mumble under your breath, “Doesn’t anybody watch where they’re going? Jesus…”

You’re gathering up some papers that fell out of your binder, until you spot an extra set of hands suddenly helping you, and a voice saying, “Let me help you with that.”

You look up, eyes locking with a tall, cute brown-haired boy, whom was now handing you your papers and notebook.

“Sorry, I couldn’t just walk by and not help. People can be so rude.” He smiles sweetly, handing over your papers he picked up. “I’m Jun, I’m in your literature class.”

“Y/n, and thanks, it’s what I get for not paying attention in lecture I guess.” You joke, finishing putting your stuff away as you both stand.

“How is Little Women?” Jun asks.

“I’ve read it before, it’s one of my favorite— wait how did you know that’s what i was reading?”

He laughs. “I saw you reading it in class, you have an incredible attention span. Quite impressive actually.”

“Last week, you read Jane Eyre, and during lecture Soonyoung came in late and the professor got mad, then they both got into this whole big argument, but you didn’t look up once, just kept reading. I’ve been watching you.

“Watching me?” You must have a confused, creeped out look on your face, cause the way he responds next makes you laugh.

“No, No, I don’t mean that in a creepy way like I’m watching you, I just mean that I noticed you, that’s all.”

You couldn’t help but blush, avoiding his gaze for a moment.

A cute boy like him noticed you?

“Laurie proposes to Jo and she says no, even though she’s still in love with him!” You exclaim, explaining your favorite book to Jun, as he holds it in his hands. “I cannot believe you never read it before.”

He shrugs, “I don’t read all that much.”

“We’ll, I think you’ll love it. The story is very enjoyable, and it’s not hard to read, which is surprising since it was written so long ago.” You continue.

“…Would your love for this book have anything to do with the fact that in both movies Laurie was played by Christian Bale, and Timothee Chalamet?”

“No,” You fail at attempting to hide your grin. “But it’s an added bonus. Christian Bale is a very underrated Laurie in my opinion, by the way.”

“Okay, I’ll read it,” Jun gives in, examining the book thoroughly and thumbing through it. “When do you need it back?”

“Whenever,” You say. “I don’t need it back by any certain time so you can take your time with it, and really enjoy it.”

“Oh, I know I will.” Jun smiles.

“Make sure you put these all away before you close up tonight,” Your library coworker tells you, as she gets ready to leave for the night. “Apparently the boss said she wants them out on display up front for tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll do it right now, before I forget,” You reply, retrieving the small stack from the counter. “I have to run those returns upstairs to reshelve.” 

You walk over to the front table just as you hear the door open. 

“We close in thirty- oh! It’s you.” Your coworker says, making you turn around to see who it was. 

It was Jun. “Y/n! Your boyfriend is here.” 

You smile at him as he walks over to you, “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to see if you wanted to do something tonight, maybe dinner… a movie?” He says, as he now towers over you & kisses your forehead. “You’re already dressed cute,” he makes note of your outfit. “I like that skirt.”

“I’m working right now…” You sigh.

“That’s okay, I can wait. I only have…” Jun checks his watch. “Oh, twenty five minutes now.” 

“Whatever,” You smile as you chuckle at him. “Just go sit at the desk, don’t mess up anything.” 

“Oh, before I forget, I brought your book back.” Jun starts as he sits down, reaching into his book bag. 

“There’s no way you already finished it. I gave it to you yesterday.” 

“I just wanted to leave you some notes in the margins for you.” Jun says, handing the book over to you.

You flip through the book, seeing how it’s littered with sticky notes and tabs, marking the different pages.

“You’ve read this before…” You glance over the notes written on a page. 

“A few times.” He smiles as your eyes meet his.

“I thought you didn’t read much?” 

“What is much…?” 

You lean in closer to him, kissing him. “You’re unbelievable.” You smile.

“You liked it? I was wondering if you’d be mad if I nearly defaced your book.” He says, with a chuckle.

“No, no, I couldn’t be mad,” You smile, playfully running your fingers through his hair. “Besides you didn’t actually write in it, if you did, that might be a different story.”

You kiss him one more time, “Well I have some stuff to finish really quick, wait here?” 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. I’m sure I can find something to keep me entertained for a few.” Jun remarks, picking up a book that was in the return stack on the counter.

You finish up the rest of your display, and the returns you had to put away (…even unfortunately stealing the book that Jun was occupying). Your coworker had left for the night and it was time to close up.

“Okay, that’s it for the night.” You announce to Jun, starting to gather up your things. 

“All done?” 

“Yeah, I think that’s- shit!” You realize you still had stuff to put away upstairs. “I forgot to put these ones upstairs.” You grab the few books.

“Come with me?” 

“You won’t be okay by yourself?” He asks, obviously joking with you.

“Cmon, it’s eerie when it’s so quiet, just cmon.” You grab his hand and nearly pull him to the elevator. 

“These few go over here,” You lead him over to the fiction section. “And these go… over here…” You start walking to the next aisle over.

You reach up to attempt to place the last book on the highest shelf, but you’re just a little too short.

“Can you help me?” You laugh, turning to the 6 foot man standing close to you. “I’m too short for this.”

Jun laughs with you, grabbing the book from you. “Where’s it go?” 

“Right next to that one, with the red cover.” 

He places it on the shelf, “Is that the only one?”

“Yeah, that’s all of them.” 

Jun moves to stand in front of you, conveniently trapping you between him and the bookshelf behind you. You mentally thank whoever designed the floor plan in the library to make the aisles so small.

He moves closer to you, nearly pressing himself against you, so close you can smell the cologne he has on.

“You know I can’t help but realize… we’re all alone here.” 

“Yeah… I know, it’s almost-“ You start, as you're cut off with him kissing you.

You moan against his lips as his hands slide up your cardigan sweater, and he trails kisses down your neck.

“Jun…” You moan, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, kissing your lips again.

“Yes, very much.” You whisper, his face still close to yours. “But we can’t do this here…”

“Why not? There’s nobody here…” Jun whispers, as he kisses your neck a few times.

“The cameras, there’s cameras around here..” You say, then you grab his hand. “Cmon, in here.” You lead him down the hall down to one of the study rooms. 

You enter the dimly lit room, and shut the door behind you, but not before realizing how secluded and somehow intimate these rooms somehow are. Okay… mentally noted.

You sit on the table as Jun slots himself between your thighs, he’s kissing on your neck as he’s pulling your sweater off your body. He pauses to pull his sweater and t-shirt off of himself. 

Jun kisses your lips again, more fervently this time, as you’ve both become more eager.

“Lay back for me.” Jun whispers against your lips.

You kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his long hair as you lean back on the table, and you try not to giggle as his lips trail from your chest, and down your stomach, tickling you a little.

“God, you’re so pretty…” He mumbles into your skin, in between kisses.

You smile as you run your fingers through his hair once more, and you feel Jun’s hands side up your thighs underneath your skirt.

“Can I take these off?” Jun asks, eyes meeting yours as his fingers tug on the waistband of your underwear.

“Yeah…” you speak, lifting your hips to give him better access. You start to take your skirt off, but he stops you. 

“No… leave it on.” Oh. You can feel your face get hot.

After many times being in these study rooms, you couldn’t ever imagine that you’d ever be in here… like this, with a gorgeous boy as he’s taking off your clothes, yet here you are.

“Jun…” You sigh, as his hands are pulling you to the edge of the table, and pushing your thighs apart.

“This okay?” He questions, as he’s putting your legs over his shoulders.

“Yeah…” You breathe, nodding, as your hands find the edge of the table to grip it with anticipation. Afterall, you can’t see him with your skirt in the way… hmm, suppose it's all part of his plan.

“God, you're so wet and all I did was kiss you…” Jun says lowly, kissing your thigh gently as his breath fans over your core. 

You don’t even have a chance to respond before he’s bringing his thumb to your clit, circling it slowly a few times, making your breath hitch at the contact.

“Jun, please…” You whine, aching for more.

“Alright baby…” He all but mumbles back to you, and you feel his tongue slide over your clit, and you throw your head back at the feeling.

“Fuck…” Your brows furrow as your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the feeling. He groans against your clit as he slides two fingers inside you, making you arch your back and practically grind your hips down on his hand.

“Shit, baby…” You whine, as his fingers effortlessly reach your sweet spot repeatedly. “Right there… I’m gonna fucking come…” 

“Go on baby,” Jun pulls back, kissing your thigh a few times, all while his fingers don’t let up “C’mon…”

You practically cry his name, as you feel the orgasm rush over you, leaving your chest heaving as you catch your breath. 

“Are you ready, baby?” Jun whispers to you, as you hear rustling and the clink of a belt buckle as he’s undoing his jeans. 

“Yeah…” You whisper, finally catching your breath, but your breath hitches in your throat as he’s suddenly dragging the tip of his cock through your wet folds, the tip bumping your sensitive clit as you’re hinted at the mere size of him.

He slowly sinks into you, the stretch making your nails dig into his biceps. 

“Fuck…” Jun curses as he hovering over you, kissing your neck as he bottoms out, his thrusts shallow so you can get used to him.

“Jun… shit,” You moan, your fingers threading through his hair. “You’re too big.”

“You can take me.” His lips softly graze your collarbone, just as his hand trails lower and lower, until his fingers find your clit.

You whine his name, suddenly your senses are overwhelmed with the feeling of the pressure on your clit and his cock inside you, hitting spots so deep it almost has you seeing stars.

A particularly hard thrust nearly pushes you further up the table, making you nearly cry as you’re already on the edge.

“Shit, I’m already gonna come…” You cry, arching your back as you already feel the familiar tingle spreading through you, making your toes curl.

“C’mon…” Jun grunts, as his fingers find your clit again, and it feels divine with the way he’s pounding into you. “Come for me… give me one more…”

Your legs shake as you come with a loud cry of his name, he keeps going until he’s coming too, slowly rolling his hips to fuck you through your high.

You both say nothing for a few, catching your breath, until you fully register what you just did.

“Oh my god…” You say as you’re getting dressed. “I cannot believe we just did that…” You cover your face as you blush, but also can’t help but laugh.

Afterall, who would've thought?

“Why are you laughing?” Jun notices you trying to hide the fact that you’re blushing, pulling your hand away. “You didn’t like it?” He already knows the answer. 

“Yeah… but I never thought I’d do that, you know… here.” You smile right before you kiss him. 

“But that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t do it again…”

tags: @chiefjunlover @cosmojinyoung @wonuwrites @aaniag @jenoslutie