#and I'm sick and tired of it being so fucking dark all the time

[mooncatgirl]

18+

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader

Summary: Daryl and y/n go on a supply run

cw: smut, cursing, mentions of weed

(This is my first time writing in about 5 years... be kind)

(Daryl's pov) It was late at night and I could not sleep, not with her so close.

It was earlier that day that y/n and I had left the group at the prison for a supply run. It was a routine I would never get tired of. Driving my motorcycle around the barren streets with her soft hands wrapped around my waist. The way her thighs grasped me. We'd scan our surroundings looking for something, any sign of supplies. Today we had found a desolate grocery store with little food left. We walked among the shelves, shoving anything that we could find into our bags. She walked close beside me, our arms brushing every so often.

She reached for a jar of peanut butter and looked at me with a warm smirk as she placed it in my bag.

"I know you like that," she said. My mouth hung agape at the seemingly innocent words that came from her. I snapped out of it when a walker turned the corner and it was face to face with the girl. She quickly grabbed the thick knife stuffed in her belt and stabbed it in the head as she had so many times before. The blood splattered across her face and somehow it only made her look better.

I am sick.

"Thanks," I murmured. She looked at me with a smile, "Not anything you couldn't have done." She replied.

"For the peanut butter," I said. I couldn't look her in the eyes for more than a second. Her gaze made me nervous, made me weak.

"No problem" she said as she began down the next aisle. "I'm pretty sure the first time I saw you smile was when we found some in that weird factory." she chuckled. She remembered.

I mentally smacked myself for being so happy over an act so small. It's just peanut butter.

"You mean the one with all the puzzles?" I asked. We had found ourselves trapped in the factory that day. The outside dark and surrounded by walkers. We had spent all night talking as we put together a bunch of puzzles we had found in a storage room.

"Mhm" her eyes lit up as she scanned my face. She looked to the window on our right. "Sun will set soon. Should we find a place to sleep?" she asked.

"Saw a house about two miles west from here. Looked small but safe." I recalled.

"Lead the way," she said.

_____________________________________________

Once we had cleared the shack we began to settle in. Y/n lit a few candles she had found lying around as I barricaded the door with a nearby dresser. I watched as she removed her plaid flannel in the warm hue of the light. Her arms looked so soft, I admired her as she walked over to the bed. The way her jeans hugged her round ass, her thighs. Her calves.

Jesus how long had I been staring? She watched me from the bed with a confused look on her face.

"Don' mind sleeping on the floor," I broke the silence, avoiding her gaze once more.

"I don't mind you sleeping in the bed," she said, tilting her head. Fuck. She slowly moved to the side as I walked over slowly with my head down. Why would I say no?

I sat on the edge of the bed and began to take off my boots as she adjusted the thick black blanket and began to lay down.

I laid beside her, my back against the headboard as she laid still. I was scared to look at her in fear that she'd be looking back. Fear that if I did I would once more get lost in the awe of her face. Fear she'd catch me.

"What do you miss most from before?" her soft voice said quietly.

"Wha" I grunted. Why is she asking me this? Why does she care?

"From before all this. What do you miss?" she asked, her body still facing me completely as she laid on her side.

"I don' know" I whispered. I really didn't. Nothing from now was different from how it was to me. In both times I've just wandered aimlessly, survived. The only difference is now I have a community. Something to desire. Someone to yearn.

"Really you can't think of anything?" she asked half shocked.

"Not really. Maybe weed." I said with a smirk as I looked down on her.

And there it was, that gaze. That way her eyes fixed on me. My face felt flushed as I smirked to myself.

"Damn it you stole mine" she smiled to herself as she turned to lay on her back, breaking eye contact. I watched as she did so. I couldn't help but notice as her chest moved up and down from her breathing. Her nipples barely peering through the fabric of her white t-shirt.

"Goodnight Daryl" she hummed as she turned her back to me and rested her arm underneath the pillow below her.

"G'night" I muttered. I stayed still, my eyes glued to her body. The way the blanket upon her clung to her curves. The way her legs shifted back and forth as she began to drift to sleep. The way her lips curled into a slight smile, similar to a cats, as she finally was asleep.

God she was beautiful. God am I pathetic.

____________________________________________

(Your pov) "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" You moaned fervishly as he rammed into you repeatedly. His head buried in your neck as your nails dug into the muscle of his back. He grunted lowly as he continued pounding into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his cock continued plunging into you. "Please Daryl" you moaned as your body filled with ecstasy.

Slowly you opened your eyes, observing your surroundings as you calmly woke. It was only a dream. Your eyes fell upon the legs of the man beside you. They moved across his long body. You laid still as you admired the shape of his arms. The definition alone making you sigh lowly as you imagined them wrapped around your torso. You looked up to his face to see he was already looking at you. His gaze softened as a smirk tugged at his lips. You smiled back, trying to ignore the happenings of your mind moments before.

You maintained eye contact, beginning to wonder if this too was a dream. There's no way he hadn't looked away yet- as he had so many times before. You grew concerned.

"What?" you whispered. Was something wrong? Had something happened while you were asleep? Was he trying to give you a signal?

You relaxed as his smile grew and his eyebrows raised into a smug look. "You have a nice dream?"

Your heart sank as you looked at him confusedly. How had he known? "What are you talking about?" you asked in hopes he knew less than you thought.

"You talk in your sleep" he whispered as his body turned to you. "You say things," he paused, biting his lip ever so slightly, "You moan things" His eyes flickered across your face as he lifted his large hand to gently move a strand of hair from your face. You observed his face, looking for a sign that he was joking. That this wasn't real. But as he moved his head in front of yours and his thumb rubbed gently over your cheek, you knew it was. He leaned, kissing you softly as his hand cradled your head, slowly moving to the back of your neck.

You kissed him hungrily. You couldn't believe this was really happening, but you were so glad it was. Your hands cupped his face as he deepened the kiss, his other hand moving below your shirt to grasp at the skin. His grip was strong, like he was never going to let you go. You'd be okay with that.

Quickly the kiss became ever so passionate, as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, you moaned at the feeling. His hands moved up and down your body before he began to unbutton the buckle of your jeans. He fumbled with the zipper before pushing them down your legs, you hurriedly kicked them off before moving on top of him. You straddled his waist and grinded down onto his clothed cock. The roughness of the jeans making a pleasurable friction atop your clit.

You continued to push down on him back and forth. His hand explored your body harshly before you began to pull your shirt off. His hands followed yours like a shadow as you lifted it up, meeting your hands and pulling off your shirt himself. His hands immediately went to your back, pulling your chest to his. Holding you tightly as you broke the kiss for air. In that moment his mouth flew to your breast, your skin. He wanted to breathe you in. He kissed and bit at your skin while his hand traveled down to your covered pussy.

"Fuck" he murmured at the contact to your wet panties. You needed him. He slowly began pushing at your clit before beginning to press circles into it. You moaned at the pressure, slowly beginning to tug at his shirt. You fervently tugged at the bottom of his black tee, he lifted it over his head and threw it somewhere into the dark. He moaned as you continued to press into his hand, your weight heavy on his hard cock.

He bit at your neck while his free hand groped your ass in his lap. He was sloppy, hungry. The noises he was making were something you had never heard from him before. They were so pathetic and raw. He was affected by your every move, your every sound.

He continued rubbing you in an erratic circle, faster and harder. Your head rolled back as your jaw hung open, you let out a pornographic moan. Your eyes squeezed shut and you began gripping at his shoulder for balance. Suddenly he stopped his movement before grabbing your torso with his arms you loved so dearly before putting you on your back. You perched your legs and let your thighs surround the man in-between as he quickly removed his belt and unbuttoned his pants before leaning down to pull your right leg over his shoulder.

He softly placed kisses on the plump skin of your calf before pulling your damp panties off of you. The cool air startled you. "Daryl," you whispered out of breath. "Please"

You pulled at his pants with your hands, begging him to take them off. You felt empty. You wanted him to stuff you completely. He got his pants off as quickly as he could, not wanting to leave from between your legs any longer than he had to. Once he got his pants off he quickly removed his boxers as well. His dick sprung to his stomach, veiny and red, practically pleading. Out of pure instinct and lust you spit on your hand and reached for it. Mixing your spit with the wetness of his precum you began palming it slowly as his eyebrows furrowed, he slowly hovered over you, whimpering at the contact.

You made out heavily as he slowly began to trail his dick down all the way to your throbbing pussy. Aching for him. He slipped it up and down your wetness, slowly grazing. You moaned frustratingly at the agonizing need for him. He leaned down to kiss you softly and began slowly pushing inside. You moaned hungrily into the kiss as he kept pushing his long cock into your tight hole. He continued whining into your mouth is head falling to your chest once he was fully inside, peering down at the view of him stuffed inside. He stopped for a moment letting you adjust to him. He looked upon you, his eyes filled with lust and want.

Slowly he began moving into you, his dick hitting spots you could never reach. You moaned in pure pleasure as he picked up his pace. He held you tightly, fucking up into you.

"Oh fuck" you sighed. He pressed his hand onto your stomach, pressing into you. Your eyes squeezed shut as he continued pounding into you. Your fingers grasped at his back as his head dropped to your shoulder. Fucking you mercilessly. He moaned into your neck, a number of curses falling from his lips.

Your legs pulled him in by his waist, his hands holding you right where he wanted you. He filled you so deeply you didn't know if you could bare him ever leaving your warmth. You moaned endlessly as he kept at his pace. Before you knew it your back was arching as you ass pressed into the mattress. Your mouth agape your orgasm flooded over you and he guided you through every wave. "Fuck Daryl Fuck" you screamed as you squeezed his bicep, riding out your high.

"So fucking pretty" he groaned as he began slowing his pace as you came down. Your pussy ached as he slowly pulled his dripping cock out of your hole. He held his cock in his hand as he pumped his load onto your stomach. His head flew back in a soft moan as he came. You whimpered as his warm cum landed on your skin.

Slowly he leaned down to lay beside you, his leg draped over yours. You looked over to him, still catching your breath. He kissed your shoulder softly and got up to grab his boxers from where they were laying beside him and slowly wiped your stomach clean. You watched in awe as he pulled the blanket over the two of you completely, wrapping his arms around you before pulling you in to lay atop his chest. You soaked him in, breathing in his scent.

"G'night" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

[cum-allergy]

,.,...

[happy74827]

One Call Away

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: During one of his "jobs," Deadpool gets a call from his favorite gal [GIF Creds: jdsheart]

WC: 1970

Category: Fluff, Major Comedy {TW: Deadpool���s Humor/Nonfiltered Personality}

This man is so hard to write. I’m always stressing the noggin when it comes to planning and plotting 😔

『••✎••』

"And away we go..."

One neck crack and a couple of hip twists later, he was off like Aladdin and his fucktoy carpet, scaling the building similarly to a chameleon on LSD.

The only thing that was missing was some epic music.

He'd been chasing this baddie around the city for almost two days now. Some big-shot mob boss with ties to Hydra, or the Mafia, or the Yakuza, or some other three-letter-acronym organization. It was hard to keep track of them all at this point. They were all the same, except for the name.

They all had their own agenda.

Kill him, keep him prisoner, pay him off...

Wade never cared enough to listen because it was always the same. He just got hired to do the dirty work, and the pay was good.

The killing was better.

This one, however, was particularly good at eluding him. He'd been trying to get his hands on this man for a few days now. It wasn't as though he was trying to be stealthy or anything, either. He'd walked right up to his front door, knocked, and was greeted with a spray of machine gun bullets.

So, the usual.

But then the guy ran and didn't stop. It was like the fucking Roadrunner met Sonic the Hedgehog, and they decided to fuck around and find out.

Wade was getting real sick and tired of being a Roadrunner, too. He had a reputation to uphold. He wasn't known as the Merc with the Mouth for nothing. He was supposed to be the one doing the running and the killing.

Not the other way around.

Finally, finally, he managed to reach the roof where the guy was currently taking cover behind a small brick shack. The sun was rising, but it was still dark, and there were a couple of floodlights shining on the rooftop. It made him think of the night he'd had that heart-to-heart with Blind Al, even though all she really wanted was for him to bring her some of that special brownie mix.

What a night that had been.

But anyway, this monologue is starting to get too long, and we should probably move things along, eh?

Right.

So, the baddie.

His name was something long and non-English.

Salvatore, or Santino, or Salvation... Whatever the fuck it was, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was time to make him dead.

He stepped around the corner and was met with a spray of bullets, all of which lodged themselves into his Kevlar vest.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled over the sound of the gunfire. "This is real leather, you know. I'm tired of all the offscreen sewing and shit."

When the spray finally ended, he took a moment to catch his breath.

"…ow," he whispered to himself.

"You shouldn't have followed me here," the man said.

"Yeah, whatever," Deadpool replied. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. You drop down and give me fifty, and I'll let you keep that hideous mustache you're sporting."

The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes, yes it is," Deadpool assured him. "You got a squirrel living in it or something?"

"It's just a little bit of gray, you dick," the man argued. "What about you? What's with the mask? Are you hiding a mustache under there, too, or something? Maybe some acne scars?"

Deadpool shook his head and stepped forward, his guns drawn.

"Don't come any closer!"

"You know, this would be much more intimidating if you didn't look like a cartoon mouse."

"Stop it with the mustache!"

"Alright, alright," Deadpool said. "Enough with the mustache. But what is it about your hairline? I can't put my finger on it."

The man sighed in exasperation and pulled out his pistol, aiming it right at Deadpool's face.

"Hey now, don't point that at me," Deadpool scolded him. "That's not a very nice thing to do."

He ignored him and pulled the trigger, a loud boom ringing out as the bullet fired. It whizzed by him but missed its mark.

"You really are a dick," He grumbled before aiming his gun right between the man's eyes. And he was going to shoot, honest.

He really was.

But then his phone rang, and he was well-reminded of the current song playing through his head.

I'm a buff baby that can dance like a man. I can shake-ah my fanny, I can shake-ah my can!

Needless to say, he was distracted.

He lowered his gun and looked down at his pocket, where his phone was still ringing and still vibrating against his leg.

"Shit, hold that thought," He said to the guy, and he holstered his gun.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?!"

Deadpool put his finger up to shush him before pulling his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

If you're an evil witch, I’ll punch you for fu—

"Heyyyy," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you've reached the phone sex hotline. For kinks and fetishes, press one. For booty calls, press two. For your favorite mercenary, press three."

"Ey, pendejo—" His opponent started, but he cut him off by snapping and raising his finger.

"Cut it, Tuco Salamanca. Breaking Bad called and wants its meth-cooking mustache back."

"Wha-I-you-"

"Anyways, this is your favorite merc speaking. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Is this a bad time?"

Wade's eyes widened in shock, and his jaw dropped open when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Baby girl! Is that you? Oh, how I've missed your voice. It's like hearing an angel, or an angelic chorus, or a whole bunch of angels, but you're the most important one. Like, the lead singer or something."

"I literally saw you last night." Your voice was always drenched with the most amazing kind of sarcasm, and he'd missed it.

"And?"

"It's only been a few hours."

"And?"

"That's a short amount of time."

"And?"

You sighed, but he knew you weren't really annoyed.

"Anyways, you sounded busy," you continued, "so I'll just let you go."

"What?! No! Don't hang up!" He shouted into the receiver. "I've only fiddled with my pistols! Nothing interesting is happening right now!"

"Your pistols, huh?" You asked a hint of mischief in your voice.

"Well, yeah. They're the most important part of the mission, you know."

In the corner of his eye, he could see his target making his way towards the edge of the building. Quickly and efficiently, without dropping his attention from his conversation with you, he lifted his gun and fired a shot at the man's knee.

"Ah, fuck!" the man screamed in pain. "My knee!"

"Hey! Language!" Deadpool scolded him. "The lady of the house is listening!"

"Lady of the- what the fuck?!"

"I said language, you mustachioed rat!"

"Mustachioed rat?" You asked.

"Sorry, babe," he replied. "You know how excited I get when Downtown Abbey is on."

“There’s gunshots in Downtown Abbey?"

"Gunshots? Oh, no, no. That was… uh, a car alarm. Yeah, the neighbor's car alarm was going off."

"Uh-huh," you said, not sounding very convinced. And, of course, that was right around the time the guy's gun went off again, this time hitting him square in the shoulder. It made the phone fall out of his hand and clatter onto the ground, but the call was still connected.

"Dammit!" He yelled, looking at the fresh blood dripping down his arm. "That's gonna take forever to heal!"

"Who are you talking to?" The man demanded, his gun still aimed at Deadpool's face. "You're working with someone?"

"Hey, now, I don't remember giving you permission to talk," Deadpool told him, holding his bloody arm up to his face. "Look, I've gotta call you back, babe. I know it's been so heartbreakingly long—"

"Again, only a few hours," you said.

"—but duty calls. Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye."

With that, the line disconnected.

"Ugh," he groaned, his heart aching for the loss of your sweet voice. "I miss her already."

"Ey," his opponent growled, drawing his attention. He started speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, which Deadpool didn't really understand, but he didn't have to. The guy was just ranting and raving.

"Alright, alright, chill," Deadpool said. "Just calm down. It’ll all be over soon, little buddy."

"I am not little! I am a giant!" The guy protested, and Wade could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "And I will not chill!"

"Well, can't argue with that, I guess," Deadpool said with a shrug, and he took aim. But before he could pull the trigger, the guy was running again.

"Hey, what did I tell you about running?!" He yelled, but his voice fell on deaf ears as the guy reached the ledge.

"I am a giant!"

"No, you're a giant asshat!"

"I will not be bested by some masked buffoon!"

"Buff? Me? Why, I never!"

"You're the biggest asshole I've ever met!"

"You know what? I am a big ass! A big, round, bubbly ass." He paused for a second. "Hey, what's your favorite flavor?"

"Fuck you, you red-clad imbecile!"

"You know, I'd ask you out to dinner first, but we're kinda past that now."

"Argh!"

"Alright, enough stalling," Deadpool said. "It's time to end this."

"Yes," the guy said, turning his gun back on Deadpool. "It is."

Of course, Deadpool being the smart-ass he was, he'd already taken a step to the side. As the bullet whizzed past him, he reached for his gun.

"Now, where did I put that thing? Oh, there it is."

He aimed the gun and fired, and the man fell back onto the ground. The bullet hit him right in the middle of his forehead, his blood splattering all over the concrete.

"Ha ha! Fatality. Deadpool wins!" He said, his voice taking on the deep, grounded tone of the narrator from Mortal Kombat. "Flawless Victory."

He stood over the body for a few seconds, reveling in his victory, before he felt the presence of another.

The gun on his right side got ripped from its holster, and the barrel was aimed back into his face, as it always seems to be.

But, he already sensed it was coming, so his fingers wrapped around his other and aimed that right in the golden spot… and let’s just say, The Golden Girls was a little less golden and a lot more crimson.

"Wow, this has got to be a record," He said as he bent down to stare at the new one’s anguish. "Two dead ugly mustaches in the same day. You can call me Sweeney Todd because shit… I just shaved you the fuck up."

He didn’t give the poor bastard a chance to even whimper before he fired another two shots into the man's head. All in all, this had been the easiest payday he'd had in a while.

He picked up his cell phone and slipped it back into its pocket before bending down and scooping up the mustache man's pistol.

"Ooh, lookie here, a nice, shiny new pistol," he said to himself. "Just what I've always wanted. Well, I don't actually need it. It's not like I have any other holes in my body, but you know what they say. The more the merrier."

He stuffed the gun in his holster and turned around, heading back the way he'd come.

"Time to get back to the good stuff," he said. "I have a date with my favorite girl."

He hopped up onto the ledge and looked down, his eyes locking on the window to his apartment.

And when he arrived, bloody and battered, you could only smile while holding up little ole Mary Puppins in all her drooling glory.

God, how he missed his girls.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, Valyrian blood (dragon rider), and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: APPARENTLY THIS IS A GUY NAMED DAVOS BLACKWOOD. But he literally IS Bloody Ben. So he's staying Bloody Ben.

P.s. I'm ageing Benjicot up so he's around 24 or whatever age you want him to be that's over 18 <3

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・It wasn't an arranged marriaged. No, not by any means.

・You had been sent by your Queen to remind the Houses of Westeros their pledge to her. And Rhaenyra had chosen you to go to the Blackwoods.

"I expect you will be welcomed warmly," her Grace said with a warm smile.

You bowed your head and returned the smile.

・You always felt safe around Rhaenyra, she was someone very close to you. Someone who you would fight to the death for.

・The first time Benji saw you, his heart stopped...which was a very fair reaction as you were atop your fearsome dragon, The Cannibal.

・You bonded with the wild dragon when you were 13 - it was the first day of your periods and you were sick and tired of being without a dragon.

・It was in your blood. And you were done waiting.

・Your first flight with Cannibal was difficult - although the blood magic seemed to be strong between the two of you.

・You were the exact person he was waiting for.

・So when your duty came to aid Queen Rhaenyra; she did asked for you to unite with a House through marriage

・That was heavy - a big duty that you did not think would need to happen, since you bonded with Cannibal. Wouldn't you be put on the front lines straight away? Her answer was no.

・But you knew the realities of war and faced your duty head on (you know Cannibal will always defend you)

・Your marriage was a significant one. All the Blackwoods were invited, and Rhaenyra was there to oversee the ceremony.

・However, having all of your family there would have been another Red Wedding, so only a few choice people from your side could be invited.

・Nonetheless, it was absolutely beautiful.

・Dragonfire lit the skies, chasing away the dark. Even Cannibal was having a good time. There were tributes made to him - sheep, cow, goats galore. You swore you saw him smiling.

・What you absolutely weren't expecting was Benji to INTERACT with Cannibal...

・He brought up a bull from the biggest hoard they had. Benji watched as the dragon practically gulped the animal down. However, he wasn't scared - he was impressed. And intrigued.

・You were absolutely moved by Benji's act. Truly. Because it showed his bravery. His daring. And of course his caring. You knew, you could feel the way Cannibal was feeling - and he trusted this Blackwood.

・So you decided to give him a wedding present. A fly.

・By doing so, you broke down every single one of Benji's walls and he knew you were the one for him. His wife. His firt and only one.

・After a tough day, and you both go to your chambers; he'll grab your arm and kiss your wrist. A physical way of saying "I'm so glad you're alive and mine."

・Learns High Valyrian for you. He wanted to surprise you with it. And surprise you he did.

・You call each other: Ñuha jorrāelagon (my love), Ñuha prūmia (my heart),

・ A very particular sentence that Benji says a lot is: Nyke pendagon nūmāzma ao everyday (I think about you everyday)

・Of course he knows you can protect yourself; but that doesn't stop him from defending you. You're his world now. You mean so much to him.

・No body thought this union would work as well as it had.

・So, Bloody Ben & The Rider of Cannibal became a formidabble pair that made men tremble wherever they went.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Like Calls To Like

The Gomez & Morticia Adams

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Unbreakable Bond

Growth through Adversity

Bickering and Banter

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

The Politics & The Life by Daniel Pemberton

O Verona by The City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・Gives you complete and utter respect both in and out of the bedroom.

・Has never and will never push you to do anything you don't want to do

・The first time you were together, it felt like your bodies were on fire. Meant to burn together. The words kept replaying over and over in your head as he touched you. A deep yearning overtook you and suddenly time stopped.

・His lips were warm, his hands cold but when he took off his clothes, you couldn't help but grin.

・There's such desire between you two that even your mount can sense it.

・Your sex life is very active - at least once a day. Maybe you're in your Honeymoon period, but you cannot keep your hands off one another when you're alone

・And when you're at feasts, Benji's hands find their way down your thigh, and slowing inching inbetween them.

"Really, here? Now?" You asked n a hushed tone, trying not to draw any attention to either of you.

"Yes. Here, now. Or we can go into the hallway and I will ravish you there. Upto you, wife."

[anundyingfidelity]

DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH? — Billy Butcher

Summary: Butcher gives orders for you to stay back from the fight. You hardly comply and prove differently; he starts thinking in a very improper manner about you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female!supe reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: smut!! hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to fuck buddies, reader can control blood and explode shit (like Victoria Neuman lol), the usual mentions of violence.

Notes: this is a request made by @thatcharmingmushroom for my 400 followers drabbles celebration. I'm sorry I took soooo damn long on this, but I hope you like it and thank you so much for the idea because I had so much fun with it! I picked the Herogasm episode for this tho hehe

☕ if you like my writing support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

On the hunt for Payback, you made your way to infiltrate Herogasm along with Butcher, Hughie and the new asshole, Soldier Boy, not caring that the British dick ordered you a thousand times to stay back.

For different reasons, you were kind of forced to stay with the team, and while you didn’t really get along with any of them, Butcher was by far the one you hated the most. And, in the end, when Soldier Boy burned the whole place to the ground with a blast and Homelander arrived, you couldn’t stand there doing nothing. While the three men tried to hold down Homelander, you used your blood to create strong whips around his limbs, trying to tie him to the ground as Soldier Boy prepared to blast, yet again.

But just in seconds, Homelander recharged himself and pushed them all aside, cutting your whips, and flashing you quickly with his heat vision before storming out. Your blood blades barely made it to the hole he left in the roof as the supe just disappeared, flying away like a scared bitch.

“Well,” you started after an instant of staying silent. “I guess we fucking failed.”

Butcher shot you a dark glare as he walked straight until he stopped in front of you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You held his eyes as he towered you with his broad figure. He looked even more intimidating now he started playing the supe, injecting himself with Compund V. “I don’t care.”

There was this smug smirk on his face as you talked back. You knew he hated you; you knew you hated him. But as fucking weird your powers were, controling blood and exploding people with their own, Butcher found you interesting and stupidly astonishing. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. They were just intrusive thoughts about you and how hot you were, defying his direct orders of strictly not coming to the supe-orgy. Yeah, Homelander was a fucking cunt, and he would take care of Soldier Boy soon too. Right now, he just needed something to take the stress out after another stupid failure. His hand would work later once back at the motel, he decided.

Butcher leaned down, until his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Why do I have to keep listening to you?” you asked as Butcher followed back to the motel.

You stopped right out of your door, because of course you weren’t going to share a room with him and the old asshole. Hughie, who went inside their room, was the only decent human being between all of them, but still, you had to take care of yourself from those fuckers. Besides, the British idiot wouldn’t stop the verbal vomiting the whole fucking trip and you were growing sick of it.

“Because, for starters, you’re a fucking newbie here,” Butcher replied, smirking hatefully. “And second, your powers are fucking out of control. You need training and keep your mouth shut.”

You rolled your eyes, showing him your wrists. “I already healed myself from the cuts I made. Perhaps I should use your blood next time?”

“No, there’s no next time for you.”

“You don’t decide that, Butcher,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tired of being treated like a stupid kid. “I’m helping on this, I want him dead. And if any of you idiots don’t kill him, then I will.”

He curved an eyebrow, not showing any signs of being taken aback at your words, but inside, he was just in awe as before. You really hated Homelander as much as he did, however, you didn’t have a fucking plan. You would attack first, ask questions later. In any way, since when could he care about that? He had no idea.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy talked behind Butcher and stepped in closer between both of you. “You fucking stay back from this, you ain’t doing shit with your blood whips.”

Furious, you motioned your hand to draw fresh blood from a wound on his cheek and created a sharp blade, cutting his skin lightly. Soldier Boy clenched his jaw before smirking at you.

“Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll blow your dick, and not the way you like it,” you warned through your teeth.

Soldier Boy wiped the blood off the fresh wound, and smiled anew before patting Butcher on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, pal.”

With that, the old supe disappeared in the next room. You just wanted this to be over, so you turned around to get inside your room, but Butcher wouldn’t leave you alone just yet, putting his foot between the door and the frame, holding it with his super strength.

“What the fuck you want now?!” you yelled at him as he made his way inside, slamming the door closed.

“Imma have to call the fucking CIA if you don’t calm down your ass,” he threatened between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t-”

“I can, and I fucking will,” he insisted, taking slow strides, making you step back from him until your back met the wall.

His eyes were getting dangerously dark and you could smell the sweat and dry blood coming from him. You noticed his pulse was increasing, and you grinned. Your mind jumped to an unsafe place where you probably knew what Butcher was feeling right now. The heat and coming down the high of what could have been the end of both yours and his enemy was too much to burden. Little did he know that you were the kind of person that used to take out the stress with something, or someone. Just like him.

“From one to ten, how much do you hate me?” you asked all of the sudden, looking straight into his eyes.

Butcher’s fierceful gaze turned into confusion. “What?”

“How fucking much do you hate me?” you repeated yourself steadier.

Butcher rolled his eyes before answering in a whisper. “I’d choose a one thousand scale for that.”

“Good, I hate you too,” you replied with a smirk before pulling him for a kiss that turned heated too fast, but you didn’t care.

You needed release. Something quick, hard and hot to take it out of your system. He was perfect for the task, and by the way his tongue tasted your mouth, you found out that he wouldn’t step back. At least you hoped so. The tension between both of you was so damn sharp and it was just a matter of time for that bomb to explode, and you preferred it this way instead of fighting each other to death.

Gripping the neck of his shirt to get even closer as you kissed, Butcher’s hands roamed all over your hips, running on your sides until he met the flesh of your ass on your jeans, pressing you towards his chest. You gasped against his mouth when he started to unzip your pants, you worked immediately on the buttons of his shirt. Desperately, you discharged his shirt, the fabric being followed to his pants, and he undressed you with the same eagerness until you were only panties and bra.

Butcher lifted you up from the ground, hands on your thighs as he guided you to the mattress. He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs with his big, rough hands and leaning down to lick down at your chest and rip your bra off. His action made you gasp out loud at the same time he sucked on a nipple like a starved man.

“You're a fucking beast,” you whimpered, feeling his hands peeling off your panties and leaving you completely exposed at his mercy.

You tugged at his jeans and he pulled them down along with his boxers as quickly as he could, taking out his dick with that smug smile on his stupid face. He noticed your eyes taking the sight of his half nakedness, biting your lip slightly once you focused on his hard cock pressing on your crotch. It only made you wet.

“Well, I plan to fuck you like one,” he said, grabbing the back of your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

“Show me, don’t talk- fuck!”

You let out a rather loud moan when he rubbed your clit with his fingers, playing with your entrance until he inserted a single, thick digit in your pussy. Butcher stretched you out with a finger, then slid a second one, scissoring them to reach your deepest spots as your walls clenched around his digits. You kept whimpering and moaning as he increased the thrusts of his hand.

“Bloody fuck, these are the only sounds I like coming from your mouth, luv,” he hissed, sensing that you almost came on his fingers.

Right before you reached your high, he pulled out and you groaned in annoyance, feeling empty once again.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

He positioned between your legs anew, getting comfortable as he started to push his tip against your slit. The grip of his hands on your thighs became a little harsh once he entered you slowly, the thickness of his cock splitting you open.

“What a tight cunt I always knew you’d be,” he grunted, filling you up completely and leaning down to mark your neck with his teeth.

His mouth and thrusts earned him your sweet moans as he fucked you senseless. The burning soon turned into pleasure. Your nails scratched his back while moaning incoherent words. His hands on your thighs would leave marks on your skin, but it felt so damn good. You needed a little bit of pain to remind you that you were alive, rotting for that sweet bliss only sex could give you.

Moans escaped from your throat and mingled with his deep groans and the sound of your skin against his own, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with every of his hard thrusts. You pulled him down for a wet kiss when you felt closer and closer to come undone.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasped.

Butcher increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his cock throbbing as your walls started to clench around him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, trying to catch your breath. You reached down to rub your clit. You were so close, almost there.

“If I keep fucking you like this then I might change my mind- holy fuck!”

In that moment, you came hard with a string of curses and clenching your walls around his cock. The pound of his hips increased and he fucked you through your orgasm to reach his own. You continued rubbing your clit, fingers finding the place where you two connected, meeting his cock coated with your juices when he pulled out just slightly to slam back inside again.

Butcher emptied his cum inside you, mumbling dirty words against your ear. His rhythm slowing down eventually, fucking his seed in your pussy. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and rolled by your side on the bed. Your body started to ache but in the best way possible. It was the best fuck you had in a long time. After a couple of minutes in complete silence you decided to talk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I hope you keep hating on me…”

He turned slightly to see your blank face. “Why?”

“I love hate-fucking.”

He scoffed with a smile curving on his lips. “You bet I enjoyed this too.”

Within a second, you climbed on top of him. Thighs straddling his lap as you rubbed your cunt on his soft cock.

“Second round? You can eat me out and suck your cum out of me,” you gave him a wink, rolling your hips and leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Dirty girl,” Butcher whispered on your lips. “Perhaps put your mouth into good use.”

“I like how that sounds,” you smiled back at him.

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[milla-frenchy]

Out of the QZ

1k5 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: you act like a brat with Joel. He puts you in place Warnings: 18+ mdni. spanking, fingering, size kink, degradation, oral (m), ball sucking, rough sex, piv. No age specified

a/n:  Fic inspired by this post (I was supposed to work on my wips, damn) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing, love you 💕🫶 @arcanefox207 for the famous gif 😍❤️ and @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

“I'm fuckin’ sick of your damn mood. What the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Yeah? Well stop talking to me. Do what you usually do, grumble. It'll be better for everyone,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

Joel looked at you, nostrils flaring. You had been getting on his nerves since this morning. He had looked at you questioningly at first, not used to those mood swings from you. He gave you some space, but as the day progressed it had been harder for him to keep his cool. In the afternoon, his patience was melting like snow in the sun, and several warning glances from him didn’t change it. You kept huffing every time he opened his mouth. 

You were finally approaching the place where you were going to spend the night, before reaching Lincoln the next day. Backpacks filled with aluminum spools for Bill's fence, and medicine for Frank. It was the first time you left the QZ in months and Joel was nervous. And you... you were in an inexplicably bad mood. And now his anger was rising fully.

“Go check behind the house. I'll check the side.”

“Can't you just do it yourself, mister I-do-everything-better-than-everyone-else?”

“Now that’s enough!” he growled, grabbing your wrist sharply and pulling you into the small house.

“Sit,” he said, after he slammed the door behind you, hands on his hips and a dark look on his face.

“I'm not a damn dog, Joel. Who do you think you are?”

He grabbed your arm and before you realized it he sat on the bed, and lay you over his lap.

“I'm tired of your bullshit,” he said, before crushing his hand on your pants-covered ass.

“What the fuck, Joel?” you whined. He had spanked you hard, hand flat, and it hurt like hell. You couldn't believe it.

“You're done?” he asked, jaw clenched.

You still couldn't help yourself, couldn’t stop. Now really pissed off at being held like that, and punished.

“That's all you got, Miller?”

His forearm pressed against your back just before he spanked you a second time, making you cry out this time.

“Shut up. We didn't check the perimeter because of your fuckin’ attitude,” he barked while holding you on his knees.

“Oh, that’s great, Joel. Use your strength if that’s the only way you know how to deal with me.”

“You're actin’ like a brat, I treat you like one, that's what I'm doin’. You're done?”

“Fuck… you….” you answered as calmly as you were able to.

His hand landed a third time, in the exact same spot.

“Fuck,” you gasped, unable to stop your thighs from squeezing against each together.

“What the… you’re turned on?!”

“No!! No, of course not!”

He spanked you again and this time you couldn’t hold back a moan from escaping your lips. When you felt his cock pressing against you, you stopped breathing for a second.

“Joel…,” you didn’t know if you were still pissed or aroused. Probably both.

You didn't even know what was going on with you. Your bad mood had been consuming you all day, without any reason. You were just pissed and couldn’t keep it to yourself. 

And nothing had ever happened between Joel and you so far. You trusted each other when you were out of the QZ, you saw each other more or less regularly inside its walls, but nothing more.

When he pulled your pants down your thighs, you stopped moving, totally disconcerted by his gesture.

“Joel, what the fuck?”

“Told you to shut up,” he said in a low voice, his hand caressing your burning ass. You tried to pull away, without much conviction. His fist was tight on your jacket, holding you in place.

You stopped struggling when he reached your pussy and glided his hand along your folds.

“We shouldn’t…”

“You’ve been on my nerves all day, now shut the fuck up.”

His middle finger slid between your drooling folds. “Fuck,” you murmured.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked. That’s what was itching you all day? You needed to be spanked like the damn brat that you’ve been?”

“I… I just…” your words got stuck in your throat as he started to finger fuck you, before quickly adding a second one. His cock was pressing against you, and it seemed fucking big.

“Shit, you’re drippin’.”

“Oh fuck, yes!” you whined, when he brushed your clit. Way too perfectly. As if the apocalypse had never dampened his ease at fingering a cunt. And maybe it never had. Maybe he fucked every month or every week or more in the QZ, what did you know about it, anyway?

He pulled his fingers out and you whimpered.

“You really thought I’d let you come?” he scoffed. “Now you’re gonna do as I say and kneel. Got it?” he asked, brows furrowed, after getting up. You fell on your knees, your pants still at mid-thighs.

“You’re gonna suck my cock,” he said, undoing his belt then unzipping, “at least I won’t hear you grawl or whine, for some time.”

He pulled his cock out and having felt it against you earlier didn’t make you less surprised. It was massive, with a reddish tip, twitching and flowing with precum.

“Yeah, I know, it’s big. Now suck it.”

His cock in one hand, he placed the other on the back of your neck, forcing you closer. You rounded your lips as best you could, taking his tip in your mouth. The precum invaded your throat, flowing slowly. You sucked his tip, trying to get used to its width. You didn't have much choice, with his hands holding you like a fuck doll. He didn't try to push himself further, but he was holding you in place. 

“Much better for my nerves when your mouth’s full.”

You felt his gaze lowered towards you and you looked up. His jaw was clenched, tense. He raised his eyebrows as if to say that you shouldn’t have messed with him.

You kept sucking him until he pulled back and took his massive balls in his hand. “Suck,” he growled. “They’ve been tense all day, because of your attitude.”

Tongue flat, you licked each of them, sucking their delicate skin, covered in some slightly gray hairs, mixed with your saliva that had flowed down his shaft when you blew him off.

“That’s it, actin’ like a good girl now, finally…” He was jerking off slowly, his impressive length just above your nose.

“I should paint your face, but I wanna feel that greedy cunt around me. Get on the bed, undressed. On your back. Wanna see your face when I’m gonna be balls deep in your pussy.”

You took off your clothes and lay down, thinking he would undress too. But he stayed fully dressed, coat on, and he was even hotter like this.

He didn’t wait, didn’t try to give you time. As soon as he settled between your thighs he thrust in one go, his hand around your neck. “Oh, fuck!” you cried when he bottomed out. He used you, growling about how tight you were, thrusting hard, keeping the same pace until your moans filled the room. Pulling out, he growled, “Don’t you dare. You don’t deserve to come so quickly.” He manhandled you on all fours and climbed on the bed, kneeling behind you, holding onto your hips before thrusting in again. He took all he needed, finally releasing the pressure of the day, using your pussy like he would use his fist.

“You’re gonna lose that goddamn attitude, now?” he asked, panting in your ear.

“Yes, yes! Fuck, let me come.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, Joel. Please, let me come.”

“Come then… fuckin’ brat.”

You hastily slid your hand down to your pussy, twirling your clit under your finger. It took only a few seconds for you to pulse on his shaft, a dumb grin on your face. When you stopped shaking, you felt him close to coming too, but he didn't pull out.

“Joel, we shouldn’t…”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m about to come,” he groaned, his hand tightening around the back of your neck and pulling you sharply towards him.

“We shouldn't keep going, pull out, pull out, please!”

“If you ever act like that again, next time I won’t pull out. Got it?” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “And if it sticks, you’ll be the one who’ll have to deal with a damn kid. And I kinda like the idea, right now. We clear?”

“Yes, yes!”

He pulled out at the last moment, growling, his cum covering the inside of your thighs, and then finally released you. He let his weight collapse on top of you, both of you lying on the bed, catching your breath.

“You should have told me sooner that taking a cock was all you needed to calm down,” he grunted.

He stood up, and tucked his cock in his pants.

“Now, get dressed, and go check behind the house. I’ll check the side. Let’s hope your moans didn’t attract a shit ton of infected. Jesus.”

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[emchant3d]

It’s the fourth time this week Eddie’s been late without a phone call.

Sure, his job has him working weird hours - Steve gets it. But he also knows his schedule and he knows the days Eddie works at the bar til close and he knows the days he’s supposed to be home before dark, and he hasn’t had a closing shift once this week. 

Yet he came home near ten tonight, and Steve had been worried and nervous and yes, sure, a little - a lot - insecure about it, and maybe he’d lashed out first, or maybe Eddie had, Steve doesn’t know, but he knows they’re standing in the living room shouting at one another and it’s all coming to a head and he can’t stop himself, can’t keep from getting loud and angry and–

"Do you even want to fucking be here?" he yells.

"Not when you're acting like this!" Eddie says, and Steve's throat goes tight like there's a fist wrapped around it. 

Not when he's acting like this, he thinks. Not when he's being too needy. Too pushy. Too demanding.

Something in his brain feels like it rewires. Their relationship flips on its head, and suddenly fear is coiling in Steve's stomach, not anger. 

He'll lose Eddie if he keeps pushing like this. If he demands too much of his time, pulls him away from what he'd rather be doing, makes himself too much work, he'll lose him. Eddie always said he wasn't going anywhere. That he loves Steve, wants to be with him, will never get tired of him. Steve was a fucking idiot to take that at face value.

He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to apologize, wants to tell Eddie to forget all about what he said, wants to show how sorry he is, but between one moment and the next he's feeling like a guest in his own home, and he's very familiar with how it feels to be unwelcome.

So instead he shakes his head. Eddie wants to be left alone, probably. Doesn't want to see Steve when he's mad at him. Doesn't want to deal with him. He'll make himself scarce.

"I'm staying in the guest room tonight," he says stiffly, and turns away, only faltering a little when Eddie mumbles 'what the fuck ever' behind him. He flinches when Eddie slams the front door and closes the spare room so quietly it barely even clicks.

– Eddie gets home late.

Like, late-late. Steve hears the front door open as he's staring at the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers burning into his vision. Why did they even put a fucking clock in here, he thinks. It's the guest room. Why did he insist on furnishing this room like someone might live in it? Like this was a home people would be in and out of, like their family would come and stay with them long enough to need an alarm clock on the bedside table?

Desperate, a voice in his head hisses at him, desperate and needy and full of wishful thinking that someone would want to stay around sad little Steve Harrington long enough to need anything--

Eddie's coming down the hallway. He's trying to be quiet, but he forgot to take his shoes off at the door and his Reeboks squeak a little against the hardwood. It's a familiar sound. Comforting, usually. It's how he knows his honey's made it home safe when he's out late, that tell-tale squeak and the little stumbles when he's tipsy and making his way through their home after a long gig.

There was no gig tonight, though, and Eddie's footsteps are steady and even despite the soft sound of rubber on wood. He isn't drunk, Steve doesn't think - and is that better or worse? That he left after a fight and didn't even go somewhere to drink it off. Where has he been, if not their usual bar to think about what they'd spat at one another, trying to think of solutions, of apologies?

And is Steve really owed an apology? He was overbearing. He was pushy. He was demanding and authoritative and too fucking much all over again, and Eddie lashed out in response, and does Steve deserve an apology after all that? He's been going around in circles with himself all evening about it, arguing in his own head, saying yes I deserve one because my feelings were hurt and no I don't deserve one because I lashed out first and how does he answer this for himself? He doesn't know.

He knows he'd do just about anything to make the empty feeling in his chest go away, though. Knows that he'd shove his hurt away and eat his words and apologize to Eddie and never, ever push again if it meant he knew where they stood. If it meant Eddie would forgive him and never storm out like that again, if it meant Steve knew he wouldn't be left alone like this to wonder if Eddie was coming back.

And he feels so dramatic - he can hear Robin's voice already, telling him it was just a fight, that there's no reason to get this worked up about it, but Steve can't help it. Slammed doors and loneliness are the soundtrack to his childhood and he can't help the panic he feels when someone he loves leaves.

"Do you want to be here?" he'd asked, like a fucking idiot, and Eddie hadn't said yes. Steve swallows around the lump that's taken up permanent residence in his throat. Reaches to swipe a hand over his face, rubbed raw, eyes burning with tears he won't let fall because what right does he have to cry? He brought this on himself. He always brings it on himself.

Eddie's feet are still squeaking their way slowly down the hallway, he's trying not to wake Steve - or is he just trying not to be noticed? Impossible, if Eddie Munson is in a room Steve is going to notice, how can he not? He's been yanked into that gravitational pull and there's no escape for him, not anymore, he's a moon circling around the solar system and Eddie is the sun, burning bright and pulling focus and what is Steve to do in the face of that?

He keeps his eyes fixed on the clock. Watches the display change when a minute's passed. Feels his heartbeat stutter when Eddie's shuffling, squeaking steps pause outside the guest room.

They keep a hall light on at night. It's on a dimmer, turned down way low, but neither of them do well with complete darkness. Too many nightmares, too many shadows haunting and hunting the both of them. Steve can see the muted glow of it from beneath the door.

He can also see when Eddie comes to a stop because his feet block that light. Two shadows in the doorframe, obscuring the soft haze of warm orange that creeps in a half-moon over the carpet, and Steve stops breathing. There's a soft shifting noise, fabric over wood, a gentle thunk when Eddie leans against the guest room door, and Steve almost calls out to him. Almost says I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't leave again, please don't leave me, but the words stick in his throat. Ball's in Eddie's court, as it should be when Steve fucked up so bad, when he tried to ruin it all, when he made Eddie so mad that he left when he promised Steve he would never do that. Eddie's a good man. Keeps his word. Steve's the problem, Steve is always the goddamn problem, always will be, ruins and stains everything he fucking touches–

The shadow disappears. Steve squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees lights popping behind his lids. Those shuffling squeaking steps continue their way down the hall. Steve feels like he's going to throw up but he didn't have dinner so there's nothing in his belly but bile and nothing comes up even though his throat is tight and his stomach is fucking rolling.

The bedroom door - their bedroom door - creaks on its hinges. Steve keeps meaning to put some WD-40 on it but he kind of likes that it makes a noise, that when he's asleep it's just loud enough to wake him halfway and tell him to anticipate the warm wash of tobacco and sandalwood that will cloud him when Eddie slips beneath the covers. Lets him know he's about to be grabbed and groped a little bit, sweet little kisses pressed to his shoulder and neck and jawline until he's got a face tucked into the curve of his throat, until he's giving a sleepy smile and winding his arms around a trim waist and dragging Eddie in close, sputtering and laughing tiredly as wild hair gets in his face and mouth before he falls asleep again, wrapped tight around the love of his life.

None of that tonight, apparently - and he doesn't blame him. No, he hears the bedroom door creak and it feels like a punishment that he deserves and his eyes burn and burn and burn and his face is wet now, he can't help it, and he wipes at it again angrily, takes the soft blanket to his face and why is it so soft why does Steve try so hard when he knows he won't get anything back why does he try to build a home when he's never had one and never will and is going to lose the one he's clawed onto so desperately and tried so hard to keep–

The door creaks again. Steve takes a stuttering breath. Eddie's steps are soft now as they come down the hallway, bare feet on the floor, almost silent as he creeps his way closer. Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, anything to hold back the sounds he wants to make - he can't let Eddie hear him. He can't let Eddie know he's crying. That's manipulative, isn't it? Crying in front of the person he hurt? He won't do it, won't be that selfish, but that shadow appears at the base of the door again. Steve can't help the shaky inhale he takes, and it sounds so fucking loud in the quiet of the guest room, choked and echoing. 

"Baby?" Eddie says, voice low and quiet, rapping so gently against the door with one knuckle. "You in there, Stevie?" 

Just the sound of him is enough to send his heart crashing around in his ribcage, fluttering and jumping and making Steve tense. He wants to answer but he can’t get the words to form, his throat feels sealed shut, and he wonders if he should answer even if he were able because what could Eddie possibly have to say right now? It can’t be anything good and Steve doesn’t know if he can take it right now, in this room that makes him feel like a guest in his own home - but isn’t he always a guest? Isn’t that what he’s made to be, a temporary stop in everyone else’s story?

But he’s not ready for Eddie to move past him yet. Not tonight. Let it happen in the morning if it has to happen, let him put this off just a little longer. Just please, not tonight. Not yet.

But Eddie’s never been known for his patience, and the click of the latch has Steve slamming his eyes closed. Too late to roll over and hide his face, but he’s got enough time to duck down and tuck most of his features into a pillow. He tries to let his body relax, to let the tense lines of his muscles uncoil and his shoulders drop and his fists unclench, but he can’t tell if he’s managed it and the ache in his palms from his blunt nails tells him maybe he did, but it won’t help much.

Eddie makes his way across the carpet in silent steps, and the mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of it. Steve’s fingers twitch to reach for him, but he just curls them into the sheets instead and hopes the motion looks absent enough to have happened in his sleep. 

He smells sandalwood and tobacco and feels the warmth from Eddie being so near but it feels like there’s a wall between them, one he can’t cross even if he tries, one he’s barred from so much as touching. 

He works hard to keep his breathing even but it’s hitching now and then despite his best efforts, shaky and too loud in the silent room, but he keeps up the charade even though the end of it all is perched right in front of him. And it’s Eddie who puts an end to it. It was always Eddie who was going to put an end to it.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, and Steve squeezes his eyes tighter like that’ll make it untrue, like he can just drift off in a second if he wills it hard enough. Eddie shifts on the mattress, and Steve curls tighter into himself. “Let’s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.” Steve bites his tongue so hard he thinks he might taste blood. It’s that simple for Eddie - but it’s always simple, isn’t it? Cut and dry, plain as day, Steve is the only one who can never see it coming, it’s written on the goddamn walls for everyone else.

He risks peeking through his lashes but Eddie’s got his back to him so it doesn’t even matter, not really. Eddie isn’t looking at him and so Steve allows himself to look, takes in the hunch of Eddie’s shoulders, the curve of his spine beneath his thin pajama shirt - he’d changed, when he’d made his way through their creaky bedroom door, took off his clothes and put his pajamas on and kicked off those tennis shoes, they’re probably in a pile at the foot of the bed for Steve to trip over and he will miss tripping over them, he’ll miss it terribly.

He wonders if he’ll need to move. If he’ll have to find a new place and separate out all of their things into his things, if SteveAndEddie’sStuff will become Steve’s stuff and Eddie’s stuff. Or maybe he’ll just start staying in this guest room, maybe that’s why he furnished this room so completely, because somehow he knew he’d end up alone in it.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and Steve inhales sharply.

“Don’t,” he says, and somehow he keeps his voice steady.

“So you are awake,” Eddie says, and he tries to sound teasing, sound playful, but it drops like a stone in this space between them. No room for levity in the dark cloud Steve’s filled this room with. He wishes he could be easygoing and let go gently, but it’s Eddie - in what world could he take losing him graciously?

“Yeah,” he says, and he stares at Eddie’s back as the other raises his head, but he still doesn’t turn to look at Steve, and he wishes he could at least look him in the face when he rips his heart out of his chest.

part 2

[findmeinforks]

The Incident - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

A little one shot that I just couldn't stop writing. A good angst to fluff (btw my fics will never be all angst, im too soft). Also do not fear, Im working on a Sam fic and part 3 to not letting you go. But you let ME know what you think of this one ❤️ 2K words

"My SISTER, Paul. She's my fucking SISTER!" you yelled, voice hoarse as your throat cracked.

"I could give a SHIT LESS WHAT SHE IS. YOU'RE. NOT. GOING." He screamed, jaw taut as he tried his best to subside the tremors that were threatening to take over his body.

You ignored the teeth he bared, shaking your head and scoffing.

"Aren't you tired of this?! I'm going over there. I HAVE to know she's safe."

"YOU SERIOUSLY THINK I'LL JUST SIT BY AND WATCH MY IMPRINT GO TO A PLACE WHERE I CAN'T PROTECT HER? WHAT ABOUT ME KNOWING THAT YOU'RE SAFE?? HUH?? YOU'RE SICK IF YOU THINK I WOULD BE OKAY WITH THIS!"

"Sick?!? SICK?!? LETS TALK ABOUT HOW 'SICK' IT IS THAT YOU WOULD WANT TO KILL HER AND THE BABY. THATS MY FAMILY PAUL!"

"AND WERE NOT?"

It had been like this for a week straight. Ever since the pack stormed through the door announcing their mission to kill Bella and the unborn child within her.

You felt as though your two families had been pinned against each other. Head spinning at the idea of there being a 'choice' between your sister and imprint.

On one hand you were desperate to make sure she was alright, but also exhausted at the never ending battle with your boyfriend.

Sure you had talked to Bella over the phone, but you didn't buy into the lies like your father had. Even though you knew significantly more than he did, she still attempted to downplay the situation. She had done this numerous times since getting thrown into the vampire world, but she could only keep you in the dark for so long before you unraveled the truth.

You had to see her. Even if it was the last time. By fate, or at the hands of the pack. You had to be there for her, as she would you.

Leaving your imprint though? Was at task challenging at best. On at least four different occasions you fought with Paul for so long that Emily and Sam had to intervene, prying you two apart at the pleads of other pack members.

Emily would console you while you ranted and Sam would make Paul run off his anger in the woods. When you faced him again, it turned into a rerun of the same argument. Nobody in the house had gotten sleep, and the things were progressively getting worse.

Quil came through the door, widening his eyes.

"Just a heads up everyone, a little comedic relief does not go over well. I saw my life flash before Paul's eyes." He huffed before sitting down.

"When is this going to be overrrr?" Embry whined. He shoved his head in his hands on the kitchen table while you and Paul went at it in the front yard.

Emily sighed.

"Unfortunately sooner than you think....Y/N packed her suitcase this morning." She said quietly.

"You're not really going to let her go over there are you?!?" Kim stood up, looking at both Emily and Sam.

"If you would like to stop her, please, be my guest." Sam motioned his hand to outside, where you and Paul could be seen through the window. You were throwing your arms up and pointing fingers at him, while his voice boomed loudly, towering his large frame over yours.

Kim winced.

You had always been the calm to Paul's raging storm. 'Made him all soft' as the guys would tease. None of them had actually seen you two disagree with each other. In the mind link they saw glimpses of minor arguments, most of the time being reconciled in the sheets..

Paul eventually got an order by Sam to think about something else while on patrol. 'Literally, anything else'.

"She's not going anywhere. I can count on my hand how many times they've been apart since he imprinted. They'll work it out eventually." Jared said as he pulled Kim on his lap, taking a hunk out of his apple.

Kim didn't share a look that she believed him, worriedly looking out to where you stood.

A few moments passed when her body stiffened and she gasped, making Jared look where she was.

"SHIT! SHIT!" He said, throwing Kim off his lap.

Sam turned to look out the window in time to see Paul phase, his sharp claw making contact with your skin. Your blood curdling scream instantly had everyone else off their seats, nearly knocking each other over to race outside.

You laid on the ground as your body wracked with sobs, clutching your side. Blood gushed through your hand as you started to panic, scrambling to stand. The large silver wolf only stood for a few moments before Paul shifted back, completely horrified as he frantically tried to reach you.

He felt his heart nearly rip out of his chest as you backpedaled into Emily, who was helping to hold you upright.

"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! IM DONE!" You cried.

Sam stood in the middle of the two of you.

Paul could feel his chest caving in, hand out, speaking more gently than he had at all in the past week.

"B-baby. Please. Please, I'm- I'm so sorry baby. Please let me just see-"

"NO! I'm done. I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm done." You repeated like a mantra, limping to the car.

"Y/N you cannot drive like this..." Emily attempted to say as she stepped in from behind you. She could see your anxiety was heightened, and afraid to set you off further.

"I have to go," you choked, on the verge of tears as you tried to open the drivers side. You had yet to even notice the gash in your side, adrenaline pumping wildly through your body.

Paul made his way around Sam, grabbing your other arm that was holding the door.

"You are crazy if you think I'm letting you leave like this. Please come-"

You yanked your arm from his grasp.

"Don't. Let me go!" You said coldly.

Paul froze. He couldn't move. You never spoke to him like this. Even in the numerous fights you two had this week.

Every single instinct in his body needed to help you. He knew you were downplaying your injuries. He knew he just royally fucked everything up. But the absolute last thing you could do was walk into a house full of vampires dripping in blood. Fucking doctor or not.

"Come inside and let me take a look at you, okay? Please." Emily said to coax you, frantically looking at your wound.

This made Sam follow her gaze, looking down to see the blood pouring from your side hadn't stopped, and you were growing paler by the minute.

"Y/N....you're going to stay here and I'll call Sue." He said in an authoritative voice, leaving no room to argue as he turned to start dialing the number.

You almost argued. You almost fought both of them on the subject. Your stubbornness almost won.

But you felt an immense pain. So strong you don't know how the hell you didn't notice it when you stood up.

That couldn't be good.

"....Y/N?" Paul said, barely above a whisper. Tears were now silently streaming down his face as he held both hands out slightly. Not close enough to touch you but to be prepared in case you fell.

You could feel yourself start to float in and out of consciousness. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on something. You looked at his hands that were outstretched.

Those hands that you held on your first date. The hands that hover your back anywhere you go. The hands that lift you up from the couch on movie nights to bring you to bed. The hands that move in just the right way when making love to you. The hands that were now shaking, not out of anger, but fear. You loved those hands.

"Y/N? Baby?" Paul said louder, more urgently as he could see you fading.

You watched him get blurry as the world started to spin.

"Paul," you murmured, before fading into darkness. The last thing you remember were the hands that caught you before you hit the ground.

"Y/N!!!" Paul screamed as he caught your body falling into him.

Sam ran back, telling him Sue was just up the street. He instructed Paul to carry you inside and onto the bed. The pack dispersed, each trying to find something to help you such as towels, an emergency kit and pillows.

Paul held you close as he lay you down, while repeatedly whispering in your ear.

"I'm so sorry baby. I'm so-so sorry. I cant lose you. Youre everything to me. I'll never yell at you again. I swear on my life. You can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want. Please, I love you." Paul pressed kisses to your hairline when Sue and her nurse friend entered.

Jared reluctantly came in behind them to lead Paul out of the room as they worked.

"Come on man, she'll wake up soon I promise."

After he was guided out, Paul slid down to sit on the other side of the door, refusing to move. Jared didn't push it, leaning down to sit next to him.

"Sue's seen this kind of stuff before. Just needs stitching up and stuff," Jared reassured as he put his hand on Paul's shoulder.

"It's not the injuries I'm worried about. So much as what she'll think of me when she wakes up. I....I fucked this one up, Jare."

"If Emily can forgive Sam, I think Y/N will forgive you. She's crazy about your ass."

Paul just nodded, praying he was right.

~

Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you woke. You looked around to see that you had been bandaged up along your left side, an IV attached to your arm sat close by. You attempted to sit up, whining when the pain wouldn't allow it. Within a few minutes Emily entered, her face showing relief.

"You're up! How are you feeling?" She checked the IV before sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of your body.

"Sore...where's, where's Paul?" Your heart ached as you started to replay what happened. There was no doubt in your mind what happened was an accident. You had seen the signs he always warned you about, and chose to ignore them in the heat of the argument. Not only that, but the look on his face when you had refused him was too much to bare.

Emily smiled, not expecting you to want to see him so soon.

"He's just outside the door. Hasn't moved. He didn't know if you'd want to see him..."

"I need to talk to him."

It hadn't even been a few seconds when Paul stood at the door. He looked more out of shape than you did. The disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't slept in days.

"I'll give you two some space. Just holler if you need anything," Emily spoke as she stood up, making her way around him and down the stairs.

Paul remained where he stood,

"If you don't want to be with me I understand. I have no words for my actions other than I am so...." he cleared his throat, trying not to cry. "So incredibly sorry I put you through this. I put you in danger when I was trying to keep you out of it. You don't have to stay I-"

"Paul please just kiss me." You interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest as you already made up your mind in forgiving him.

He stood for just a moment longer, trying to comprehend if he heard you correctly. It was when you weakly opened your arms for him that he wasted no time in rushing over to you, cupping your face and gently yet passionately kissed you with everything he had. Tears flowed his cheeks at the relief that you still wanted him. Even after everything he had put you through.

You two pulled back for air after a moment, and you ran your hand through his hair.

"I forgive you, okay? I can't imagine my life without you."

He let out a breath, smiling for the first time in weeks.

"It will never happen again. I swear on my fucking life baby." He caressed your hair, neck, landing his palm on your heart.

You two sat like that for awhile. Almost scared to leave each other's presence. You two talked for hours on the bed. Paul had confessed that the night before, while you were sleeping, the pack had fought with the Cullens. You learned that Paul refused to go, not wanting to leave your side. You were grateful to hear that Sam didn't push on him being there, knowing you were all that mattered to him, and he'd refuse him if he had too. Even if it went against his every instinct as a wolf. Turns out that Jacob had imprinted on your niece, and Bella had survived, now as a vampire.

You weren't particularly thrilled your sister was now a bloodsucker, but as long as she was alive, you were happy.

Paul eventually made his way to the other side of the bed, kissing every exposed inch of you, whispering all the things he loved about you in your ear until you fell asleep.

When your heartbeat slowed down and he was sure you were out, he reached down and felt the velvet box in his pocket. No doubt in his mind about the future you both held.

[moonlight-starlight-lady01]

Do you do dark/yandere kenji Sato?

If you do can you make Yandere kenji sato smut.

Where the reader is angry at Kenji bc he does not let them go out so Kenji decided to uh… do something.

(IYKYK)

THANK YOU

FUCK YESSSS.

WARNING: NSFW, SLIGHT CASE OF STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, AND A LOT OF CUSSING, KIDNAPPING.

NOT EDITED AT ALL

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

♡♡♡♡

You were sick of it. Being cooped up in his house for months now.

In the first couple of months, you were stuck in a containment cell(like Emi was in but smaller). Kenji would sit in front of it and talk to you like he knew you personally. Like you were someone he knew for years.

But, you didn't know him...personally. You did know him. But only as "Kenji Sato! The famous baseball player." You went to one of his games, and this is how it pays you off Being kidnapped by some weird.....also hot baseball player.

It would almost be a year. After a month, he would let you out into the rest of the house and make you do weird sentimental things...

Like cuddling, kissing your cheek/forehead, wearing dresses and his big shirts and jacket, and making you sleep with him in his HUGE bed. He was acting like you guys were....like...a couple. And if you declined, he threatened to put you back in the containment cell and wasn't gonna feed you for a week.

There were some good things, though. Like having cable and unlimited food. A warm bed to sleep in. Not to be mean, but you did not have the best place to live like he does. He's rich. You were...poor. now, in the present, you were sitting on the couch watching something on the TV. That was until Kenji came in with a light pastel pink and purple sweater. It was long that it would come mid thigh.

"Y/n."

Kenji said gently. He sat next to you as though something bad happened.

"I want you to put this on."

You looked down at the dress you were wearing. It probably would be better than this thin sundress that was actually really cute.

.

.

.

"Ok..."

You couldn't go somewhere else. You had to change in front of him for some reason. So.... standing up and finally slipping the dress down your body until it hits the floor with a light sound.you also had a pair of a black bra and panties Kenji had made you put on. You slip on the purple sweater with no hesitantation. You sit back down and feel kenji slip his arms around you and pull you close. Until your head lays gently against his hard muscle chest. Was he sniffing your hair? Never mind that. You pulled your arms enough to wrap them around his torso so he felt like you liked it as well. He started speaking...

"Im gonna have to put you back in your containment cell."

Your eyes shot open in an instant after he said that...

You let out a quiet

"Why?"

"Because i have some things to do with my dad and Emi"

You remember Emi. She was such a cute little lizard baby. She would babble and scratch the glass container by you. She was super cute.

"Why do I have to go back in the containment cell?"

You asked, pouting. This was the only way you could get something. Like a fucking child...pouting.

"Because baby, you're not trusted."

He was right. You tried escaping many times. Then mina would catch you. And you'd get punished.

You were tired of this. Why does this guy get to choose what you do. You haven't even seen grass in almost a year. You weren't gonna let this slip.

You smush your cheeks on his neck and say in the most child like manner.

"You can trust me. Mina will know if i escape."

You feel him get hot.

"I-I.....you can't be trusted."

Ok, now you were getting pissed off. You push his hands off you and see his eyes widened seeing you act so mad.

"Why the fuck would i want to stay in a containment cell?! I'm fucking trapped here and i havent even gone outside in fucking YEAR! I haven't seen grass kenji. Litteral grass. YOU expect me to sit in a glass container for a fucking week or so!?"

You saw his eyes darken, and he pushes you in the couch cushion with his fist on your neck. And you started regretting your little outburst.

"SEE THIS IS WHY YOU CANT BE FUCKIN TRUSTED. YOUR A BITCH!"

Kenji said, yelling in your face. Spit flying onto your skin like rain drops.

"IVE TRIED TO MAKE THIS THE BEST ENVIRONMENT BUT YOU JUST KEEP BEING A FUCKING BRAT.....AND-AND IM GONNA TEACH YOU. TEACH YOU A LESSON THAT WILL SHOW YOU TO BE A GOD DAMN GOOD GIRL FOR ONCE!"

You started to sweat with worry. There's no way he would do this.

After some time, he throws you onto the ground and pulls his pants down for his half hard cock to pop out.

He rips off your black pair of panties and pushes up the fluffy sweater that he gave you.

"Fucking brat."

He pushes his pink tip to your entrance and shoves in you witb jo remorse.

"KENj- please stop! I've learned- I've lear-!"

You say tears prickling your eyes. It felt horrible. You felt something tear in you, and it hurt so much.....to much.

He ignored you, please, of mercy and continued his punishment.

He couldn't help himself anymore. He started to kiss you. Ruffly, not gentle and soft, as he did before. Teeth and all.

He grabbed your panties and ripped them. Them grabbed both your arms ruffly and tied them above your head with the ripped fabric.

Grabbing your legs, he moved them to his shoulders for easy access to your pussy.

After a couple of minutes, it started to feel.....good.

Better than good. It felt astounding.

You started moaning and gasping from each thrust into your core.

"F-fuUck"

You moaned. You couldn't help it. It felt so good. That was until Kenji started playing with your clit.

"OH MY GOUD...OH F-fUCK!"

You finally cum, and it felt nice.

After a couple more thrusts Kenji cummed inside you without even worrying about pulling out.

He and you were out of breath.

He and you were sweaty.

He and you finally came.

He and you were finally ONE.

Kenji started breathing heavily. He lay on top of you and started kissing your body.

You didn't want to talk. Not after this. You felt ashamed of yourself for doing this. Why would you enjoy this so much. Hopefully, you are not getting the case of Stockholm syndrome.

Kenji broke the train of thought by talking.

"Mina, get the containment cell ready."

♡♡♡♡

DID YOU GUYS LIKE IT?

I DID LIKE WRITING THIS 🎀

[vixen7243]

Undivided Attention: Team bonding

TF141 X AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Soap | Snake in the Garden | Team bonding | Like a Dream

MDNI!!!

Tag list 🖤: @jenniferpendragon @amyg1509

Hearing John's rough panicked voice sent a shiver down your spine as you squeezed your knees closer to your chest holding your breath. "Y/N? Dear, please, open the door. What's going on?"

"What do you care?" You croaked out sniffling, the silence deafening making you laugh, "Never cared before."

"Gorgeous, let u-"

"No, no, no. How many times do I have to say ..." Pushing yourself up, "no, " Turning and unlocking the door, "and to just go away?" Swinging the door open you glared at all of them.

They had all stiffened at the sight of you, your eyes were blood shot, cheeks flushed, dark bags under your eyes, you looked miserable and angry. "Luv."

"Go to Angie, tell her all your problems." The look of compete shock made you laugh pushing John's chest making him step back a little, "Didn't think I knew? She can't help but to walk around base talking about how all of you are pent up dogs eye fucking her and begging her to stay with you all." You hated even more that they were just standing there quietly, fear and worry in their eyes.

"Bonnie-"

"Don't, just..." Taking a deep breath as a few tears slid down your cheeks you groaned, "I may look stupid, we never said anything on being exclusive so you guys can do anything and one that you want. I know it's none of my business." The hurt in their eyes as you continued to speak make you choke up, heart clench but they hurt you first. You didn't want to hold back, "But seriously? John? As much as I've comforted you, held you and we've fucked I really thought you would be nice enough to tell me that you guys had some other medic on the missions." The visible flinch as if you had just slapped him across the face made you scowl, you waited a beat, still they said nothing. "Why didn't you tell me you replaced me?"

"I didn't-"

"Yes you did."

He scowled right back at you, you know he believes he didn't technically replace you, but to you, he really did. "I wasn't trying to dear, I jus..." You started crying, he froze, as he tried to step forward to wrap his arms around you but you stepped back shutting the door locking it again. Sobbing you fell to your knees, "Darling, I'm sorry ple-"

"She's touched all of you, I've seen it, none of you push her away, none of you do or say anything. She's clung to Johnny like a fucking desperate slag and you let her! Kyle is so fucking friendly with her you stand right in her shadow. You let her touch your beard, you let her..." Hiccupping you clenched your chest, "And Simon, you were actually gentle with her." You felt so sick, so tired, "I can't look at any of you, I may be overreacting but I thought that after everything you guys would actually care about me." Your sobs broke your speech up but they understood you loud and clear and they broke with you, as you laid before the door crying they all sat down in the hall breaking down with you.

It wasn't till late in the evening that you pushed yourself up and went to your bathroom sighing, taking a quick shower before slipping on a tank top and shorts, combing your hair you looked at your door. Taking small quiet steps you tried listening to the hall, hoping that they had gone to their rooms you opened your door and before you could close the door again Simon held the door open, "Luv, please let us talk to you."

Fighting to try and close it before groaning you pushed back, "What?"

You hated how they invaded your space and all you still wanted was to just lay down with them and have amnesia and live in ignorant bliss. God your heart practically stopped when Johnny got in your view, his eyes just as blood shot from crying, you've barely ever seen him cry before and the few times you have it kills you. "We've told her so many times to not touch us, that she is just there for papers that there's a medic." Kyle said, your eyes still on Johnny.

"We're not saying what you saw didn't happen, but please believe us when we say we reject her, every time." John said, you looked at all of them slowly, they looked just as miserable.

"Guys have only just glanced in my general direction and you guys loose your minds, have done things for even brushing past me. Yet there's a girl throwing herself at all of you and you don't do a thing to her but say some words that mean nothing to her." You say wrapping your hands around your waist.

"She'll get hers luv."

"Why, because now I'm upset and know?" You scoffed pouting.

As Kyle and Johnny slowly walked to you Simon's eyes caught sight of your papers on your desk and while you looked to the other two he read the papers. "Bonnie, ye are everything to us, we've set boundaries and granted we weren't as hard as when things happen to ye but that's only because even if she were to of done anything more compared to the guys getting close to ye..." He was before you and as much as you knew what he was saying that they could handle themselves against her and that she would certainly be at a bit of a risk if the men on base decided to go against her consent. It angered you and annoyed you but feeling the heat radiating from his body made your body tingle and hands itch to reach out and touch him.

"Gorgeous, we'd never let her get anywhere near us more than she was even able to. You're the only person we have ever let near, embraced or loved."

Snapping your head to look at Kyle your eyes widened, "What is this?" You looked at Simon and froze. "You're trying to transfer?"

Fuck, you felt lightheaded as they all looked at you, "I-"

"Darling." You looked at John, he walked up to you, cupping your cheeks he made you look into his eyes, your heart pounded in your ears as everything zoned in on him.

"I'm sorry." Not what you wanted to say but it was the first thing that came out, you felt like you all were mirroring each other in emotions and it was weighing so heavily on your heart how broken they were with you. "It was all too much for me, I couldn't st-stay. I didn't want to see you all with her li-like that." Grabbing his wrists you nuzzled your head into his hands sniffling. "I don't want to lose you guys but..." Looking up you sighed. "I'm tired."

Simon and Kyle flanked you, while Johnny pressed his chest to your back, hands grabbing onto you as John leaned down and kissed you. Breaking, you pushed into him and kissed him back, you felt everyone's lips on your neck and shoulders whispers of them declaring their love and how you own them in every way you ever could. Gasping against John's lips as Johnny ground into you whimpering of apologies and pleas to not leave him. Turning your head you kissed Kyle, hand reaching for John's shoulder holding him close. You'd never been with all of them at once, this was new and exciting as you were on the receiving end of their praise and love, their rough hands gently massaging and groping.

Turning to Simon you moved his baclava up enough to kiss him, his tongue invading your mouth making you moan as Kyle nipped at your neck. Trembling slightly you gasped as you fully turned for Johnny who wrapped his arms around you holding you tightly as he kissed you moaning with you. Feeling as everyone was easing your clothes off, you leaned back slightly for Simon to pull your tank top off and Kyle removed your shorts and underwear. John wrapped his arms around you from behind, as you rest your head on his shoulder you gasped arching when he bit your neck moaning as Johnny kneeled before you, lifting a leg onto his shoulder he kissed your thighs before littering hickies and bite marks along your thighs and close to your dripping cunny, moaning.

"Johnny, please." Whining you pushed your hips closer to him looking down gasping when he latched his lips onto your clit making you moan and grab onto Kyle's shoulder.

"Look so beautiful baby, no one can even come close." Kyle moaned cupping your breast moaning against your neck. Huffing you started grinding against Johnny's face reaching down with your other hand to grab his mohawk keening when he teased your hole with his fingers, his tongue flicking your clit. Already your leg was shaking under you as you turned to Simon to kiss him, your moans muffled against him as you pushed your back into John. Shaking you threw your head back against John's shoulder whimpering before a strained scream ripped from your already sore throat, hips moving quickly with Johnny's pumping fingers. Your leg slowly giving out as you panted trying to push Johnny's head from your thighs.

"Shit, Johnny, please. I came, stop fuck." Groaning you squealed surprised when Kyle grabbed your leg and Simon grabbed the other, working together they hoisted you up, John tightening his hold around your waist as Johnny groaned against your clit the vibration going straight to your spine. "Oh god." Pushing both hands into his hair you tried leaning to Kyle whimpering when you couldn't reach.

As Kyle leaned forward you both collided hungrily kissing, panting into his mouth as Simon leaned forward sucking on your nipple. Feeling the second orgasm flooding through you, you tensed in their hold whining against Kyle's lips pulling harshly onto Johnny's hair making him whimper and moan as he slurped your juices as it trickled down his hand and wrist. As Johnny leaned back he slowly pumped his fingers into you, easing you through your release smiling when Kyle pulled back and you instantly looked down at him, new tears staining your cheeks from ecstasy. Your body shivering as he eased his fingers from you gently rubbing your clit as he put both hands on your inner thighs spreading you planting a soft peck to your throbbing clit and leave open mouthed kisses along your thighs before he stood up slowly kissing you. Kyle and Simon Carefully lowered your legs while John went to your bed resting his back against the wall as he sat in the middle of it, Simon and Kyle joined him on either side while you and Johnny got lost in your own world.

Looking at the others you gasped pulling back tasting yourself now on your tongue from Johnny, crawling up between John's legs you straddle one of his legs while pulling Kyle back to yourself kissing him. Moaning as Simon grabbed your waist and moved you back and forth on John's thigh earning a groan from the both of you. Having already came twice from Johnny your cunt was dripping wet and you were sure John's pant leg was already soaked. Feeling a thick pair of fingers slide between you and John's leg you sighed as Kyle slipped his tongue into your mouth exploring every crevasse moaning when you also slipping your tongue around his practically tangling the two of you. Feeling the bed dip behind you, you sat up and looked down biting your lip as John's fingers slowly worked your overstimulated clit. Griping John's shoulders you whined, "Mark me." Gasping as Kyle also slipped his fingers down, your slick making their fingers easily pass each other and play with your clit. "Please, mark me, fuck me. I want to mark all of you. Want everyone to know- shit urgh." Your hips stuttered in Simon's grasp as both John and Kyle's fingers teased your tight hole. "Want everyone to know you're all mine. Please."

"How could we say no to that darling." John moaned as you locked your lips with his, the others finding any space on you, sucking, biting, kissing, squeezing hard sure to leave hand prints. Being swept under the waves you leaned back and went to Kyle removing yourself from John panting as you frantically started pawing at his shirt and pants removing what you could with his help. Latching yourself to his neck making him groan as you bit and sucked at him like a leach as you drew a little blood with a bite that was a little too hard but you were happy to see it already start to bruise a little. Pushing him to lay down you went down his body leaving a scattered trail hovering over his pelvic when you felt Simon grasp your hips pulling them up a little. His tongue dragged down your slit, moaning at the taste before suckling on your clit his grip on your ass spreading you for himself.

Pushing fully back against him you continued to work on leaving marks now on Kyle's thighs, his shaking just as much as yours, his cock twitching. Grabbing his shaft you slowly dragged your hand up and down watching as his stomach tightened, moaning looking down at you. Feeling a swift slap to your back side when you tried to pull to sit up happy with the littered marks on Kyle's body you gasped looking over your shoulder at Simon, "Not done ye' luvie."

"But Si." You whined pushing onto his fingers that were pumping into you. "I want Johnny." Groaning as his fingers slid out of you before he man handled you up and sat you in front of Johnny. Dazed you clawed at him, his grin and shiver of excitement pushing you to leave darker marks on his neck his groan vibrating his throat against your lips.

"Come on bonnie, don't leave an inch untouched. Mark me to yer hearts content. I'm all yers. Always have been, always will be." It didn't take you long to scratch and bite your way around his body, loving how he sounded when you would suck dark hickies into him. The whine he made when you withdrew from him made you smile as you leaned over him kissing him, his hands squeezing your already bruising hips.

"It's John's turn baby." You whispered into his ear nipping his ear lobe giggling when he groaned letting you go.

Crawling and turning to John, you smiled as he had started removing his shirt for you, helping him remove his pants you couldn't help moaning with him as the guys took turns playing with your clit, building you to another orgasm. Settling between John's thighs you suckled on his cock, his fingers scraping your scalp before fisting your hair holding you tightly. Feeling someone's fingers pumping into you as the other two abuse your clit you lifted your head up, mouth letting go of John's cock with a pop, "God, please don't stop. I'm so close." You whined grinding your hips with them, walls clenching around fingers tightly before a breathy moan left your throat. Weakly sitting up you looked at Simon, he had removed his baclava, undressing him, you slowly trailed around his body, focusing on his arms mostly knowing that the rest of his body is always covered but on some rare occasions he does pull his sleeves up at times. You still wanted people to know he was just as well marked as the rest.

Straddling Simon after being content with your work you ground on him moaning when the head of his dick kept catching your clit. Getting up to slightly hover over him as he lined himself up with you you gasped as your cunt stretched around him as you lowered down. Moving slowly with his guided movements you looked at Kyle, leaned down by him and started suckling at his cock moaning as Simon started pounding up into you grunting as your walls fluttered around him. Feeling Simon's thumb rubbing your clit you felt close and moaned around Kyle's cock as he pushed the back of your head down groaning as he came down your throat and Simon pushed up into you as he held your waist down against himself cumming deep inside you as you also came.

Panting as you were laid down onto your bed, Simon gently moving himself. You noticed that as Johnny got between your legs, lifting your legs up to his shoulders, Simon had put his baclava back on, you wondered momentarily if he was also over whelmed but your mind blanked when Johnny eased his throbbing cock into your sensitive cunt.

You didn't see the slim figure in the hall or small flash of a light but Simon and John did, both irate, having clearly seen who had caught all of them and decided to take a picture of your most vulnerable moment. For the time being they continued to focus on you, deciding to give the person in the hall a show that will be their last.

John gently ran his knuckles on your cheek as you held your head off the edge of the bed guiding his dick to your open mouth moaning as Johnny's thrusts started rocking you into John, slowly forcing you to take more of him, relaxing your throat you thoroughly blanked out as the two fucked into you. Rightly using your holes as you came again, Johnny whimpering as you milked him but he refused to stop. Drunk off of you, he pushed your thighs down to your chest, his cock ramming into you as John rested a hand on your throat moaning as he could feel his dick fucking your throat.

Digging your nails into John's hips you moaned around him when you and Johnny came, the guys all pouring out their love and claim for you. John groaned as he pushed flesh against your mouth cumming, tightening his grip on your throat feeling his cock twitch, cumming deep in you along with Johnny. As both men slowly pulled out of you, you gasped whining at the lose and stimulation as you were moved careful to lay properly in your bed, Kyle laying with you as Johnny listened to whatever Simon was whispering to him. John got in behind you, cuddling you as everyone massaged your limbs.

Yawning, you wrapped your arms around Kyle resting your head on his chest, humming as John told you how much you mean to all of them. Falling asleep you whispered back to all of them, "Love you guys." When they were sure you were sleeping, Johnny and Simon quickly got dressed and left to retrieve the disgusting little intruder while John and Kyle stayed with you. You were none the wiser of what was happening but in complete bliss.

----

Like a Dream

I've been working on trying to get this done for the past few days and good lord!!🥴 I was so scattered brained trying to remember where each guy was and just absolutely getting lost in the damn fantasy. But here, declarations of love, group therapy, and some pizaz.✨ Really hope ya'll enjoyed. I'm thinking the next post will be a wrap up of this maybe two more posts but we'll see. I do have already another story brewing in my head that's bugging to get out but I want to finish this one. Let me know what ya'll think.

[inkbybambi]

best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

One thing you love about Simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. Strong, steadfast, there when you need him. Even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

Not that you’ll tell him that.

You hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. Whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

Except for Simon.

Which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. You don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

Losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. You've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

But losing Simon? You don't think you'd ever get over that.

It's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. Your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

Your call log is all Simon.

Some appointments here and there, but Simon everywhere else.

Fuck.

You hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

You don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

He answers before the third ring.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. You take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "Am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired. “No, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. You’re only half-convinced.

"I'm sorry," you begin again. Your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. You're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "I didn't know who else to call, and I lost my tram pass, and I don't have an umbrella, and — "

“Dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. You ache.

"I can just walk home, I-I'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone. “Darling,” he says, a little stern. Not angry, never angry. Trying to focus you. “What’s wrong?”

“U-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "I waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "Messaged him too, y'know. He just. Didn't show."

You think you hear Simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick. “Where are you?”

There's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. You manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking. “Twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “Sit there and be good and patient and I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"Okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

Thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. You make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

You can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

He says your name gently. You take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. He's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. Assessing you, worrying.

"I'm sorry," you croak out. You can't help it. It's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. He doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"Love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. His eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." Your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "You know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

You can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. He hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"This is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. You were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"Yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "You really think I'd let you stay home alone?"

His eyes are so fucking bright. It startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"I..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. His eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "I was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"As if I don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. You scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"Go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

You hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"Go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

His flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

Well.

You might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. It's a you're a bit clumsy thing. Simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

His bedroom is familiar as well. Which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

You take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. You’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

As you pad back out to the living room, Simon’s already on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. You’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

His balaclava is off. The last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“Knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“Am I that predictable?” you mumble, a small thank you as he hands you a bowl.

He doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

The silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

You blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. You can’t read his eyes. Something hot twists in your gut.

“I-I don’t know, Simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “Maybe?”

He doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “Depends how the date went, I suppose. Doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. His gaze hasn’t changed. “Why?”

His jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “You deserve better ‘n that.”

A confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “I know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

He seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. You feel sick.

Dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. You bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“Don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

Your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. Relationships aren’t easy. Being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

You never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. You don’t deserve that kind of attention. After a while, they’ll get tired. You’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

It’s easier to be by yourself. The only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“Love.” He tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. How hasn’t he gotten tired of you yet?

A hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. Your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“What’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f’yours?”

You swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “No one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

Frustration burns the back of your throat. Isn’t it obvious? You can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. How can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? How could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“You wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. You crumble back into the couch.

“Make me understand.”

Heat flashes at the nape of your neck. He takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. Your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“How aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. You look at him. Hesitant. Scared.

The silence is loud. His own frown deepens. It takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“You know I’d do anything for you, yeah?”

Your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“Because you do the same for me,” he continues. You doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

His touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. He slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips just above the waistband of his boxers.

You slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. Firm and broad and safe.

“You apologize so much. You worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. One hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“You’re allowed to ask for help.”

You shake your head, a no caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“Oh, love.” He cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “You have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

He lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. His cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. You’re so tired.

His lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. You’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 , 𝐉𝐁𝟓

summary , the daughter of lewis hamilton and a 3 time f1 world champion life is pretty great especially now that you have found a special someone

pairing , jude bellingham x fem! hamilton! redbull! f1 driver! reader

main masterlist | football masterlist

yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton judebellingham 76,389,589 others

yourinstagram

liked by lewishamilton judebellingham 102,890,199 others

yourinstagram winter break photodump pt. 5

view comments

user my wife is a madrid...I don't know what to do with why self now

user stay away from my wifey mr. hey jude lookin ass

user MR BELLINGHAM WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user it couple is cookin ya'll

user love that mother is living her best life

user bae wake up Y/N posted a winter break photo dump

user OKAY BUT THAT LAST PIC EXCUSE ME?!?!?!

user madam who got you those flowers

user jude better be careful or papa hamilton gonna have his head if he even thinks about trying anything with his daughter

user why am I kinda living from the idea of these two being a couple

user are you dating jude?

user Y/N come home the kids miss you

user 4th wdc pending...

user so we all know who the guy in the last slide is right?

user love my soon to be parents

user the queen soft launching wasn't on my 2024 bingo card

view more comments

TRENTSKI

JUDITH

EXPLAIN YOUR SELF

JUDITH

huh?

RICE RICE BABY

did you really think you could sneek your way into Y/N Hamilton's ig dump and we wouldn't find out?

JUDITH

yes?

SANCHOOOO

SO YOU ADMIT IT

IT IS YOU

MEEK MEALS

glad you finally got together

I was getting sick and tired of you talking about her 24/7

JACK RABBIT

I'm surprised he even got the strength to talk to her

STAR BOY

right?

his brain normally turns to mush when ever her name is mentioned

proud of you bro

JUDITH

thx kyo

I always knew you were a real one

TRENTSKI

damn I see how it is then....

RICE RICE BABY

trents going dark lads

in his sad girl era

PHIL CHEESE STAKE

so wait who knows about you 2 being together?

SANCHOOOO

besides the entire intent after that photo dump?

MEEK MEALS

LMFAOOO

STAR BOY

tell lewis he's the goat

JUDITH

hahah funny

let us have our damatic soft launch

obvi you guys know

the only others that know are max, sebastian, and charles

I'll let lewis know when he figures out I'm dating his daughter this Saturday

JACK RABBIT

mate your fucked

TRENTSKI

DAMN

secret forbbiden romance

didn't know you were built like that jude

MEEK MEALS

what do you mean Lewis fucking Hamilton doesn't know you are dating HIS DAUGHTER

SANCHOOOO

pray for jude guys

these might be his last days with us

STAR BOY

he shall be missed

JACK RABBIT

dw jude I'll delete your search history of you stalking Y/N's ig and twitter

JUDITH

thanks guys...

wiss me luck

TRENTSKI

break a leg

RICE RICE BABY

don't die

MEEK MEALS

good luck

SANCHOOOO

you going to die

STAR BOY

what colour coffin do you want?

I'm thinking bright pink and rinestones

JACK RABBIT

do you need a get away driver?

PHIL CHEESE STAKE

before you die get me and ronnie a hat singed by Y/N and Lewis

JUDITH

I feel so loved rn

yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton maxverstappen1 98,328,479 others

lewishamilton replied to your story!

he's a good lad

but if he hurt's you

winning a trohpy will be the last of his concern

okay dad I'll relay that message to him

good

also don't forget to use projection...

DAD OMG STOP

carlossainz55 replied to your story!

¡HALA MADRID!

maxverstappen1 replied to your story!

Christian is asking if Jude wants to come to the team dinner before the livery launch?

also if he hurts you I will run him over with our matching aston martins

landonorris replied to your story!

what does he smell like?

[soaps-mohawk]

I just saw someone talk about Simon Riley being a rapist and the only way they tried to confirm it is by saying that he is a war criminal and all soldiers are misogynistic and sexist and they also talked about how he dreamt of hurting women in the comics when that's quite literally a normal reaction by being raped by both men and women (what I mean is that abused people sometimes dream of becoming someone they're not and don't want to be) but they conveniently forgot to mention how that "dream" was a nightmare. (Just wanted to rant about this and see your opinion)

The sigh I let out when I saw this ask this morning.

I'm so sick and tired of seeing this discourse. Not just in this fandom but in every fandom. Maybe it's just because I'm old and my frontal lobe is fully developed, or maybe it's because I was in fandom back in the days where there were no tags. You were lucky if you got a warning at the beginning of a fic. Most fics you walked in blind and if you didn't like something? You hit the back button and found something else.

This sudden mainstreaming of fandom has ruined these spaces. People come in, refuse to "learn the rules" that most of us learned by just existing in these spaces and watching others interact. There were no written rules back then. We learned by observing and occasionally being guided on fandom etiquette by those more experienced than us. Now it's just like people come in expecting fandom to be like every other space on the internet and then get defensive and angry when they realize it's not. Fandom is cringy. It's nerdy. It's happy and sunshine and it's dark and ugly like every media out there. Us creators and those of us more experienced in fandom have been screaming how to exist in fandom spaces from the rooftops but no one is listening and then everyone wonders why creators are leaving these spaces. Why fandoms keep getting abandoned.

All of that aside, this discourse about FICTIONAL characters pisses me off. Simon Riley is a FICTIONAL character. He has no morality, there is no right or wrong because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him do whatever you want to do because he's NOT REAL. You can give him wings and have him fly and guess what?? Cool, that can happen because he's NOT REAL. You want to make him a rapist? Cool, you can do that because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him whatever you want to make him because he's a character. He's not a living, breathing human being. There are no consequences of his actions because he's FICTIONAL!!!

Don't even get me started on this sudden discourse about dark fics and dead dove that's appeared recently. Dark media has existed for literal centuries. The Epic of Gilgamesh from 1800 BCE. The Odyssey. Mostellaria by Plautus. The Castle of Otranto published in the 1700s. Frankenstein. Dracula. The works of Edgar Allan Poe. Lolita. Hell, look at the Bible. The Bible, especially the old testament, is fucked up. Even in the watered down, bastardized King James version, the things the old testament "God" supposedly did, when you sit and actually think about them outside the lens of religious brainrot, are super fucked up.

People have been creating dark media for a long time. Horror has existed for a long time because it plays to our worst fears. It gives us a safe way to express those fears and to experience them without having to experience them first hand. You wouldn't bitch at a horror movie director for including things like rape and gore and murder in their movies?? So why is writing different? You think every horror movie director agrees with the things they portray on screen? You think every horror movie director would go out and murder someone just because they made a movie about it? No, because we're allowed to portray things in all forms of media, we're allowed to write things without morally agreeing with them. Guess what, most people that write rape or assault or violence, aren't going out and doing those things in real life. They don't support those things in real life. In fact, people that write dark fanfics are some of the loudest protesters against those things.

If you want to make Simon Riley a real person, guess what? He's not going to be even morally grey. Most people in the military are not good people. They're not. The people that are good people in the military, or were in the military, are the ones saying that the loudest. People that got tricked into joining, people that got promised things, people that did it because they had no other choice and then realized what it was really like after getting in? Those are the people to listen to. Not Call of Duty, not the people trying to convince you to join because they're glorified sales people and have a quota to fill. Look up videos of what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan at the hands of American and British soldiers. You would not like Simon Riley if he were a real person.

But he's not real. He's FICTIONAL. Even as a fictional character, he's not a good person. So many Call of Duty fans put on the blinders and ignore the fact that these men are out here committing awful acts of violence and killing people because they're "the good guys." People love to forget that Price literally kidnapped a woman and a child and had them held at gunpoint to get information out of someone. Not only that, he was okay with it. If he were a real person that did that, you would not be questioning if he were a good person or not. You can tell the people that have never played the games or watched playthroughs, who only know these characters through the lenses of fanfics and artwork and headcanons.

Call of Duty is military propaganda. They paint these men as heroes, make it easy to put the blinders up and ignore the things that are happening, the things they're doing so that they can convince young men that they want to do that and they should join the military so they can go out and do that too. That's Call of Duty's audience. That's who they're creating these games for. These young, impressionable boys who get excited by the violence and the action who will go on to fill quota numbers for recruiters. Call of Duty was not made for us, the people writing fanfiction and creating art for it. This side of the Call of Duty fandom will be the first to tell you all of this.

This side of the fandom creates fanworks which would turn Activision's eyes red. We babygirlify their military propaganda because it actively goes against what Activision is trying to do. It goes against what Call of Duty is at its core. Sure, some people water it down a lot, and others keep it more realistic to what these men would be like in real life, because it's FICTION. You can portray these characters however you want because that's what fiction is for.

And guess what, anon? Rape kinks exist. Consensual non-consent exists. It's well known. And guess what? Victims of sexual assault and rape can develop those kinks as a coping mechanism. Here's a study from the NIH website, and if that's too complex for you, here's a VICE news article that uses that study. People can write rape and rape kinks and CNC and noncon and not support it in real life. People can write those things to bring awareness to the fact that they happen to people in real life, or because people in real life have those kinks. People write those things to help victims, to support them. It's cathartic. Dark media most often is created for catharsis. It gives people an outlet, and it allows people to experience those things in a safe, controlled environment for whatever reason.

And that's the thing, anon. People don't have to give anyone a reason for why the consume that kind of media. Creators don't owe anyone an explanation as to why they create it. It's none of your business, and if you're not comfortable with it, then don't consume it. You can turn off the TV if a horror movie is too much for you. People walk out of theaters all the time because a movie is not what they were expecting, be it because it was bad or because it was too graphic or violent or disgusting. You start reading a book and you don't like it for whatever reason? You put the book down and pick up another. Why do people have such a problem with not reading fanfics they don't like? Why do people have such a hard time just blocking creators that make things they don't want to see. Most dark fic and dead dove creators put ample warnings on their blog and their posts. That's why those tags exist. You don't like it and you don't want to see it? Then block and move on and let others enjoy what they want to enjoy.

You pearl clutchers are ruining fandom and soon there won't be anything for you to enjoy. If you can't handle fandom, then don't be in it. There is no algorithm here. You're going to see things you don't want to see and it's very easy to just block and filter tags. There was a time on Tumblr where you couldn't filter tags. I remember those days. You had to download the X-kit extension to block things, and that only worked on desktop. The fact Tumblr gave us the option to filter tags on the site and on the app was a big deal when it was rolled out. I remember so many people that didn't want to use the app when it first came out because you couldn't block potentially triggering tags.

It's not a creator's problem if you were triggered by their media. Life doesn't come with trigger warnings and it's a blessing that it's become so normalized to include warnings at the beginnings of fics. There's websites that exist for other forms of media that will give trigger warnings. If you can look up trigger warnings for a movie and decide not to watch it, you can look at the trigger warnings for fics and decide not to interact with it. You're not out here emailing the directors and producers of movies that include triggers you don't like, telling them they're awful people for including those things in their movie and they shouldn't. Yet you have no problem coming into the comments and inboxes creators who do this FOR FREE because we wrote one dark fic. Because we wrote something that's triggering to you.

And yes, some abuse victims go on to be abusers, some people continue that cycle because they don't have the help and support to break it. It's a sad thing that happens, but it happens. It happens in the fictional world and it happens in real life. People can make that happen to fictional characters for whatever reasons they want.

I've written dark fics. I've written several. I consume "disturbing" media for fun. I've read books and watched movies that would send these pearl clutchers to the hospital. Hell, I've probably written things (some published, some that will never see the light of day) that would turn these pearl clutchers inside out. Guess what? That's okay because it's FICTION. It's cathartic. I don't have to give my reasons why because it's no one's business except those I decide to tell because I trust them and I know they'll support me. I don't support those things in real life. Just because I write for Call of Duty doesn't mean I support the things the game portrays. If you consume Call of Duty media be it the games or fanfiction, does that mean you support what the game supports? What the creators of the games support? What militaries around the world support?

Think about that next time.

I’ve made my stance very clear here before, but I’ll do it again. In real life, I am anti military, anti war, anti gun violence, anti genocide, anti fascism, anti terf, anti homophobia, anti conservative, anti rape, anti domestic violence, anti colonialism and pro choice.

Just because I may create or consume media with those things in it, does not mean I support them. It's high time some of these pearl clutchers learn that.

The next time you want to come into a creator's inbox or comments and spew hatred towards them because of the things they write, why don't you do something useful with your time instead.

This will be my only discussion on this topic. I will not be answering any more asks like this. I will delete and block anyone who tries to come "well actually"-ing into my inbox. If you don't agree with this stance, then get off my blog and block me.

[finniestoncrane]

PREWAR COOPER STUFFS ❤️‍🔥 DESPERATELY needing some fluffy morning after/Sunday morning routine with his wifey 😩👏 him being VERY grabby and just an absolute horndog dkfnfnrk (he is down bad for reader)

Morning, Sunshine

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k hello post divorce cooper, please hit me up, i'll make you eggs (also post-divorce barb i know you're a baddie but that's just my type so i'll make you eggs too pls lemme make you eggs too...ANYWAY) but please this is so cute and i have made it gender neutral as you corrected so everyone enjoy being cooper's little chef and getting caressed by this hungover idiot 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: suggestive things, mentions of alcohol, angst

Cooper stumbled into the kitchen, his feet shuffling on the floor as though they were made of lead, unable to lift them any higher. He groaned as the light from the windows assaulted him, and you smiled without turning to him, offering a brief, hushed 'good morning'. He returned the greeting with a groan. His entire body felt weighed down, the ache of sleeping in one position all night, lacked out in a drunken stupor after he had pawed at you and attempted to fuck the lingering stress out of his body.

And now he was in his own kitchen, messy from the small gathering of friends from the night before, stressed once more and hungover as shit to boot.

But there you were, by the stove, the source of the wonderful smell that had woken him up and had him drifting from the sancutary of his dark bedroom to face the world. Even when he was hungover, or sick, or just too damn tired to accept reality, he did it anyway. Who knew how many more mornings there were for him to see? That looming threat, the dark secret he had to keep to himself, one not even Barb knew was the real reason for their divorce. The source of his agonies, but also, the reason he felt so inspired to wake up each morning and spend as much of the time he had left with you as possible.

"I wasn't expecting you out of bed any time beforeat least midday, Coop."

"Then you shouldn't have started cooking something so god damn delicious."

His voice grew closer as he made his way, instinctually, towards you.

"I'm sorry, did it wake you up?"

"It did, but there's nothing to apologise for."

He was behind you now as you stood in front of the burners, a pan in your hand, your signature omelette cooking over the heat, your grip wobbling a little as Cooper looped his arms around your body. Everything he did stole your attention, pulling your focus with his charismatic personality, the way he commanded a room the moment he entered. And it didn't help that he had begun to kiss at your neck, letting his lips drag along your prickling skin as he moved down to your shoulder, nuzzling back into you as he sighed. The satisfied moan on the exhale had your stomach tensing, eliciting a soft moan of your own in reply.

"You want me to make you something to eat?"

"Please, darlin'. If that isn't a bother."

"Never is for you, Mr Howard. You get a coffee and take a seat, I'll be right with you."

Once he was seated with his mug, the morning newspaper to the side of the place setting at the kitchen island, you turned from the stove to plate up the omelette for him. It was the first you had properly looked at him that morning, and you could feel your breath hitching as you took him in. Even in this state, bedraggled, skin greasy with a sheen of sweat, hair unkempt and slicked back in messy waves, his breath, which you could smell over the countertop, still tainted with the cocktails he’d been making the night before. Even with all of that, he was still the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. And those same eyes couldn’t help but fall to his chest, his robe hanging open, exposing his torso down to his navel.

You wondered if he’d bothered to find any underwear to put on before covering himself with the short robe when he’d stumbled out of bed.

“Oh, sweetheart. You made this for yourself.”

“You eat first, I’ll make one for myself just now.”

Cooper flashed you a grin, one you remembered seeing so often in press photos, at promotional events.

“You really are a doll, know that?”

You returned his smile, turning back to the stove as he ate a few bites of the omelette with a satisfied groan. Cooper took a sip of coffee, watching you over the top of the mug. Every day could be the last. He didn’t want to believe it, but it always hung in the back of his mind. He’d lost Barb to Vaut-Tec, lost Janey, at least partly, to the divorce. He’d lost his sense of security to the war, his work to the paranoia that had burrowed inside of him. You were all he had now, and intended to cling to you with everything he had. Holding your hand tight at the party last night, clutching your body in the bed as he fucked you, passionate, desperate. His fingers entwined in yours as you slept, then holding you in his arms, your body smooth and warm.

Cooper stood up from his chair, unintentionally quiet to the point where you didn’t even notice he had moved until he was right behind you again, pressing himself against you so tight that you could feel the beginnings of his erection pushing into you. With a firm hand, he took your wrist, guiding you to set down the pan, switching the stove off and turning you in a choreographed spin so that you were facing him, your chests together, eyes trained on one another.

“You got enough ingredients for another, right?”

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

“I just think it might be ruined by the time I’m finished with you.”

His hands slipped down from your lower back, cupping both of your cheeks as he raised his eyebrows in a silent, questioning plea. Every moment with you was precious to him, every inch of your body worth placing a kiss to, worth tasting and savouring. Why not make the most of your time together by making sure you were as close to each other, as pleasured and satisfied, as possible?

So, when you blushed, biting your lip and giggling, he knew you agreed, and he took your hand and pulled you back to the comfort of the bedroom with you, hoping to relieve himself of a little more stress.

[bloody-cupcakes]

omg wait what about dark reader play fighting with jd until you have him pinned to like the bed or something and teasing him when he starts to get turned on?

I think I'm starting to make the reader meaner and meaner with each one of these asks, and I don't even feel bad about it. Also I had to cut jump the scene to right after they started play fighting because I have no idea how to write that honestly 😭

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, noncon/dubcon elements, heavily suggestive, play fighting, brief grinding, mean reader (they make fun of JD for being horny), swearing, JD's a little bit of a pervert in this one

"Aha, got you!"

A proud grin was on your face as you successfully pinned JD down to the bed. He seemed a little miffed about "losing", only agreeing to do this in the first place because he thought for sure he'd win.

"Yeah, great," he grumbled with an eye roll, squirming slightly at the way your hands were holding down his wrists. "Now get off."

"Wait a minute-"

He scoffed in annoyance at your refusal to move right away, starting to feel more and more frustrated by the second. As you would soon come to find, that wasn't the only thing he was feeling currently.

"-dude, are you hard right now?"

He felt his face heat up at your question, trying to ignore just how much the answer was clearly yes. He could feel it, and now you could feel it, too.

But he didn't want to admit it, so he decided to lie through his teeth instead. "N- no..."

"You sure about that?" You smirked while pressing your knee further into his crotch, feeling the way his cock seemed to jolt forward and stiffen up in his pants at the action.

"St- stop-" He mumbled as he turned his head away, avoiding your gaze while his cheeks flushed bright red.

"Oh my God, you are." A sudden laugh erupted from your throat the moment you realized just how aroused he was, which did nothing but make him feel more embarrassed.

"S- shut up! It's not funny!" He tried to protest, the scowl he had on his lips immediately falling away when your knee forcefully rubbed against his groin.

It was now your turn to roll your eyes at him and the way he was acting. "Oh, don't be such a baby. You're fine."

"I- I'm serious, knock it off-" He tried to push you off him but you had firmly planted your body on top of his, your hands still pinning down his wrists at his sides.

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" You openly mocked, giving him a look of feigned fear. "Oh no, I'm so scared."

The embarrassment he felt about the current situation was quickly beginning to give way to another emotion he was much more well acquainted with: rage.

"Yeah, you know what? I just might."

If it had been anyone else, they would've gotten off him immediately. Hell, if it had been anyone else they wouldn't even risk play fighting with him to begin with.

But you weren't just anyone else, meaning you weren't scared of him, so despite the glare he was staring up at you with you did the exact opposite of what someone else might do and ignored him.

"Y'know, if I had of known you'd get so worked up over something as simple as play fighting-" you leaned down closer so that your face was mere inches away from his "-I would've done this a long time ago."

"Fuck you," he spit out angrily through gritted teeth as he tried his best not to give in to the arousal that was coursing through his body.

Merely shrugging, you responded calmly with, "Well, I mean, if you insist. I wasn't planning on going any further here, but if you really want to-"

Starting to become sick and tired of your teasing, he attempted to push you off him for a second time. Unlike when he first tried to do it, it actually worked, but that was only because you willingly let go.

You snickered in delight at his red face and heavy breathing, watching as he tried to pull himself together between all the dirty looks he shot you. It was clear you weren't worried or bothered by his anger from the way you casually leaned back, relaxing as you rested your hands behind your head.

"The next time you get hard from me being that close to you, I'll force you to cum in your pants for being such a dirty little pervert."

JD had no idea whether your words were meant to be a threat or a promise, and although he knew he should feel offended by them he couldn't help the shiver of pleasure that ran down his spine.

He could only hope you hadn't been able to tell how he did actually cum in his pants, which was why he shoved you off him in the first place.

If you knew just how difficult it was for him to be close to you without getting a hard-on, you'd never let him live it down.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Okay, could you possibly write something about Sam being a teen dad? It could be headcannons or a fic, whatever you’re more comfortable with, i just see him as being moody especially because you asked him not to smoke around the baby and stuff like that..

Author's note: someone teach Sam how to be a dad :(( why do i even have only three fics with emo boy?!?!? What is wrong with me. Thank you nonnie for the request!

TW: swearing when the child is near

you walked up the path that lead to the park, your eyes scanning for none other than SAM MONROE. The stroller wheels squeaked slighty as you passed yet another happy family, wishing you had what they did. Seeming to be happy mother, devouted father..it wasn't like you weren't happy, but constant fights and arguments with sam brought a feeling in your heart that maybe you aren't the family you wanted to be..and with that, your mind easily wandered to the argument you'd had this morning with your boyfriend

it wasn't anything new -- he was moody, stubborn, and defiant at times. But this time, it was about something important - smoking around the baby. Youd asked him so many times, pleaded, and he always nodded, promised to do better, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that it was all slipping through the cracks

as you approached the bench, your blood ran cold. there he was, sam, sitting with the baby in his lap, casually holding cigaratte between his lips. Your nine-month-old son was nestled against him, tiny hands reaching fro sam's shirt, completely unaware of the situation at hand.

"Sam!" your voice was sharp, anger and panic rising in your chest. With practical, long steps, you snatched the cigaratte from his mouth and crushed it beneath your shoe "what the hell are you doing?"

sam looked at you, surprised, but then his brows furrowed and all his mood shifted from calm to defiant in an instant "What the fuck, y/n?" he hissed, gazing how you took the cooing baby from his lap, your arms tightening protectively around him

"What the fuck?" you echoed, your voice now incredulous "you're smoking -- while holding him, Sam! Are you kidding me?" you could feel your blood boiling

standing up, he scoffed, wiping his hands on his jeans like he could brush off the confrontation "it wasn't even lit anymore" he muttered, avoiding your gaze but you could hear the defensiveness dripping from every word

how it was all stupid.

"that's not the point!" your chest tightened, the air in your lungs transforming into pure frustration "How could you even think that's okay? I've asked you so many times not to do this, and you don't take it seriously at all!"

sam's face hardened "i said it wasn't lit. I wasn't blowing smoke in his face or anything, damn" he ran his hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated as well that you've caught him yet still unwilling to back down

how could he even say that with such an ignorance to the health of your child?

your voice cracked, holding back tears. You were so tired of repeating him the importance of doing what's right. And every time, you felt as if you were speaking to some teenager that can't understand the basic information of moraly "that's not enough, sam. it's not just about whether it's lit or not -- he's breathing in the chemicals on your clothes, in your hair..What if he gets sick, have you ever thought about that?" you looked down at your baby, who was blissfuly unaware of the storm brewing between you two, and it only caused to make your heart ache even more

sam's jaw clenched at your words. of course you'd say that "I'm doing the best i can, alright? i am trying" his voice tight, as if he was on the edge of snapping "I didn't mean to hurt him..You think i don't care about him?" his hand gestured towards the baby

kind of..

the lump in your throat grew, tightening its hold around it like a snake "i know you deep down care about him..but true caring about him means listening when i say stuff like that is dangerous. You can't just...act like it doesn't matter..he's your son too"

at your words something had softened on sam's expression, as if the weight and true responsibility of being a father finally kicked in. He looked around the park, catching the glimpse of other people, laughing kids, steady, warm weather..but when his eyes moved back to your direction, his mask of indifference slid back into its place "It's not like im out here smoking around him every damn day, y/n. I was just having a break, alright? I needed a minute.." he said before adding "And i thought you trusted me with him" the words stung your heart -- it all sounded like he was trying to turn this around on you, make you the bad guy. But not this time

your brows furrowed, and you gently put the giggling boy back to his stroller, giving him his toy to keep his occupied. "This isn't about trust, Sam. It's about keeping him safe" you bit back the urge to yell -- yet you tried to reach the part of him that cared, the part that loved your son as much as you did "he's just a baby. he doesn't know what's dangerous, but we do. You do"

Sam sighed heavily, his eyes finally meeting yours, the defensiveness melting just a little. He looked tired, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and in a way, you understood. This was hard for both of you—being young parents, trying to balance your own needs with the responsibility of raising a child. But there was no room for carelessness, not when it came to your son.

"I know," Sam mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face, his posture slumping. "I know you’re right." His voice was quieter now, almost reluctant, but it was the closest thing to an apology you were going to get. "I just... I didn’t think it was a big deal. I didn’t mean to make you freak out."

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the fear there—the fear of messing up, of not being good enough. But that didn’t make this okay. He thought it wasn't a big deal? Was education illegal for him? "I’m not freaking out because I want to. I’m freaking out because I love him, Sam. And I need you to love him enough to do better."

For a moment, there was silence between you, just the sound of your baby babbling softly in the stroller, his tiny fingers grabbing for his toy. Sam’s eyes flicked down to the baby, and you could see something soften in his gaze. He reached out, gently brushing his son’s hair back with his hand, and you felt a pang in your chest. He did love him—so much—yet he was making such basic mistakes

You sighed, glancing around the park as the sounds of laughter and play filled the air. “Just give me your pack of cigarettes, okay? I can’t trust you to not smoke if you have them with you.”

He looked up, disbelief etched on his face and you swore you could feel coming back to the point zero. “Seriously? You want me to hand them over like I’m some kind of child?”

“I’m serious, Sam. You need to make a choice—your son or those cigarettes?” You folded your arms, your gaze unwavering.

He hesitated, and in that moment, the baby’s wails grew louder, pulling Sam from his thoughts. “God damn it,” he muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the pack of cigarettes. He handed it to you, his expression a mix of defeat and anger. “There. Happy now?”

You took the pack from him and tossed it into the nearby trash can. “It’s a start,” you said quietly. “But it’s not just about cigarettes. You have to change your mindset. You can’t keep putting yourself first.”

Sam watched you, frustration still simmering again (hopefully the last) beneath the surface. “I know. I just... I’m trying to figure it all out. I never expected to be a dad at nineteen.”

“I didn’t either,” you replied softly, glancing down at your son, who was finally starting to calm down in your arms. “But we can’t do this alone. We need to work together. You need to really think about what being a dad means.”

"I’ll try," Sam said quietly, his voice rough around the edges. "I’ll try harder. I promise"

You nodded, swallowing back the lingering frustration. "That’s all I’m asking for." You glanced down at your son, who was now staring up at Sam with wide, curious eyes. "We’re a team, okay? For him."

Sam looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, his expression softening just a little. "Yeah. We’re a team."

"now c'mon, we're going for a walk"

Did I forgot to add someone to the tag list? Or someone doesn't want to be on it anymore?

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