#both in really bad places looking to make bad and sexy decisions

[mrsbarnesblog]

my girl

masterlist

requests are open

summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to

word count: 2k.

warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing

a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write

You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect. 

The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.

Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going. 

As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were. 

You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him. 

It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 

You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you. 

Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it. 

He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you. 

“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake. 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend. 

“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it. 

Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.

Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them. 

“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you. 

You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. 

“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”

“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear. 

“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation. 

“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.” 

“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.” 

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”

"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.

“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.

“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.

“I didn’t tell them anything!”

“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”

You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it. 

He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin. 

“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth. 

“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”

“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.

“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?” 

“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”

“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.

“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.” 

“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies. 

“I’m your girl?” 

Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”

[yeonbinwyd]

come over

pairing: sub! femreader x dom!Soobin

synopsis: you and soobin had been talking for a while and hadn’t met up in a bit. You two had busy schedules until one night you both caved.

a/n: thinking I’ll do a pt II for this one later

genre (w/tags): smut, (minors dni), size kink/ oral

Word count: 946

“I really wanna see you” you begged

“I’ve got class in the morning.” He stressed.

*pic sent*

Soobin hears his phone ping to his surprise it was a sexy pic from you. He hadn’t received any nude from you before, only selfies back and forth so this was exciting. He was laying in bed, having you next to him would make things so much better. Your warmth against his body would really would be amazing but he wanted to be responsible. His phone went off again. You had sent a full nude this time. All of your curves was more than convincing. He felt it in his pants. His hard on was begging to come out. Soobin was a bit nervous since he wasn’t fond of sending nudes too much. He loved the image and sent a dick pic back. Almost immediately you respond.

“Mmmm looks good. I wish you were inside me 😋” you replied. His dick throbs. Soobin is distraught now debating between letting you come over or being able to wake up for class. He wants to ruin that pretty face of yours, making a mess out of you is all that’s on his mind.

“Ok I can’t say no to you. Come over now.” He demands. You don’t wait, getting dressed quickly and rushing out the door. When you arrive, he pulls you inside into his room. He then gives you the deepest hug. You could feel every part of him, squeezing you tight. During the hug his hand slips to your zip up. He slowly slides the zipper down, finding you not wearing anything underneath.

“I was in a hurry.” You explain. He nods content with your decision. Soobin gives you a twirl once completely unzipped to get a better look. He gives you another deep hug but this time begins to shed each piece of clothing you’re wearing. Nothing on now, nods even more pleased.

“This is perfect.” He compliments. Soobin pulls you on to his bed, squeezing you tight. He loves cuddling you more than anything. Feeling your naked body made his cock so hard, it was unbearable. You both lay down, he doesn’t hesitate to pull you close. Soobin feels up and down your body, cupping your ass and tits.

“God I miss this.” He sighs then pulls you close for a kiss. Soobin gives you a hungry kiss while still feeling you up. Your patience is running thin as well, start helping him strip. He gets right to work, heading straight to your cunt. Spreading your legs, looking deep in your eyes.

“I’ll eat it for you good baby” he gets down on his knees at the edge of the bed. He then gets close to your lips, locks his arms so you stay in place. Soobin starts by teasing you with soft kisses along your vulva. You moan with a jolt at his actions, his muscles tensing. He dives deeper with his kisses, now sucking on your clit. At this point, you’re gripping the sheets, overwhelmed with feeling. He’s lost in your pussy, loving the taste of you. Soobin locks eyes with you again, rubbing his face from side to side, really getting in. You start to tap the bed, begging him to lighten up. He sits up from you, covered in your wetness.

“I’m just getting started. You sure?” He licks his lips. You nod , sitting up with him.

“I just want your big cock” you demand. Soobin smirks, pulling you the edge of the bed by your ankles. He stands from his knees and he’s fully erect. Wet with precum, he gives it a stroke.

“You ready then?” He pushes you back to lie flat again, gripping your waist as he penetrates. Soobin slides in with ease, right away getting pulled in. He bites his lower lip, trying to control himself. When fully inside, he stays in place to just stay warm.

“You’re so tight. I don’t want to hurt you but I need you so bad.” He rests. You thrust up, giving him some momentum.

“I can’t wait please fuck me” you beg. Those words fuel him. He immediately plunges into you, taking your breath away. He growls while roughly stroking against you. Each time, his dick hitting your cervix. You cry out in pleasure, igniting him even more. He pulls you up to hold around his neck, then holds you in place on his bed. Soobin then starts thrusting up while hugging you close. He was even deeper now. Your nails digging into his shoulders and back, holding on for dear life. You start to place kisses along his neck, giving them a nibble. Soobin feels every last kiss, eyes rolling back. He pulls away to look at how you’re taking his cock.

“You turn me on so much baby. I need you to cum for me” he requests. You were definitely close. His strokes are much faster now making your hole even tighter around him. You shut your eyes in pleasure and Soobin nods in encouragement. You bury your head in his neck, crying out.

“You cumming for me yet baby?” He questioned. You managed to nod as your body begins to go limp. He could feel your body twitch in his arms. He lays you down, pulling out. He then lies down next to you, cuddling you.

“Rest while you can. Were not done yet”

[deandoesthingstome]

Exactly What His Heart Meant

Pairing: Pornstar!August Walker x Pornstar!Reader

Summary: August Walker has wanted you forever. You want him, too. It's perfect.

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: This is Pornstar!AU, okay? 18+ ONLY Drug and alcohol use, mentions of a three-way, generic anal, bad business practices, oral sex (F & M receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, P in V missionary and doggy style, sex toys, pegging (gasp - yes I'm going there), aftercare. Love.

A/N: I am nervous, okay? This is not your average everyday August Walker, but I love him and I hope you do too. I have been wanting to do this since forever. I've posted a few blurbs in WIP tag games here and here. I gushed about the song that kicked the whole thing into high gear and the fic title is taken from "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" - Rod Stewart. Both songs can be found on the playlist.

Bonus points if you can find the nods to other HC characters. There is definitely one, maybe two or three if you squint hard. (These points don't get you anything, sorry.)

Playlist: Listen to the music of the night on Spotify here.

Header and dividers by me.

August owned his entrance like no other. The studio made sure to send a PA ahead to prep the DJ and once he heard the first strains of “Night Fever” spill out of the club, he stepped out of the shadows and headed to the entrance, ready to start his decent down into the lights and glitter and debauchery as soon as Here I am sounded through the speakers and a spotlight made its way to him.

The already celebratory crowd went wild as he struck the iconic pose and thrust his hips in time to the rhythm. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried, no matter how he had protested his employer’s choice for him. He would have sworn on any stack of bibles he didn’t like disco and abhorred polyester, yet here he was gyrating away. First time for everything. Starting with enjoying this awards night and after-party.

Each one prior had a story already attached to it from the beginning of the night, starting with his inaugural ceremony and guaranteed newcomer award, and trailing through the end of every relationship he thought would be the one. He finally stopped assuming because they said yes to the event after a few months or more of dating, that meant they were saying yes to him forever. The next few years were brutal and lonely, not that he couldn’t find some starfucker to take home at the end of the night, but that wasn’t what he craved.

Tonight was Club Retro themed. Award ceremony glamor as usual, but a costume change was required somewhere on the way from the venue to the after-party if you wanted to really up your game. Arrive in club gear of whichever era you wanted, but arrive dressed to impress nonetheless. He wasn’t the only actor a studio had convinced to go for the Travolta look, but he was probably the most surprised to find himself exhilarated by it and the attention it received. He kept all three pieces of the white suit, but he ditched the dark blue shirt altogether. Maybe he didn’t have a full head of hair, but the ‘stache and chest hair on display held 70’s swagger and he was running with it. 

He grabbed a glass of champagne from one tray and a pill from another and set off into the crowd in search of the rest of his crew. He caught glimpses of the fresh-faced sweetheart who’d just inked a new deal grinding on the studio’s number two out on the dance floor and knew his plan to link them up had worked. The fans would eat them up, he knew it. 

Knew it better than the owner, who wanted August to break her in. Ethan had begun making some really bad casting and scripting decisions and August was glad his contract was coming to an end. He was starting to feel like he wanted to just blow the whole studio up, let loose with all the bullshit he knew about his boss and how he ran his business. The industry could be awful, plenty of horror stories, but August had initially thought he’d found a place to call home. 

What he’d begun to uncover about Ethan Hunt could fill a manifesto that would take the place down. And as crazy as it sounded, though he was tired of breaking in new talent, he wasn’t ready to be the reason all his friends lost their jobs. Not everyone was in a position to land on their feet. Regardless, at least now, with the sweetheart and the roughneck on a solid trajectory he wouldn’t be in the middle of something if tonight panned out the way he hoped.

Though, to be honest, it wasn’t looking good. He’d found his crew and then scanned the room for her with no luck. 

“She hasn’t shown up yet,” his agent purred in his ear. Kelis was always down to party whenever he had an itch no one else would scratch, and he appreciated how decidedly non-attached she always was. No clingy phone calls or pouting over non-existing anniversaries. It aggravated him, though, that she was looking to seduce him here, tonight of all nights. Especially because she knew where his mind would likely be, but it didn’t stop her from begging for his cock every now and then. He could tell she’d gotten the hint his look gave by the way she toned it way down to answer his next question.

“A few from her studio have shown up but she wasn’t with them and they wouldn’t tell me where she was. It was all very secretive. So at least let me have my way with you on the dance floor if you won’t take me home tonight. Please?”

He relented and found himself having the time of his life. Song after song flew by as he grabbed water then whisky, a line, then water, another line, then whisky, water, whiskey, whisky, water. Dancing with Kelis gave him a chance to forget about his frustration with his studio and everyone, here or not, for the moment. He let himself be free and felt a weightlessness he hadn’t in a long time. No call sheets waiting at home. No scenes to prep. No “scripts” to read. Tonight and the next two weeks were his and his alone. Time for some decisions.

He noticed the crowd had begun to thin, and realized he wanted some fresh air, so he peeled himself away from Kelis with a promise-to-return kiss and tap on the ass. He took the elevator to the rooftop bar and found himself a little amazed at the streaks of light just beginning to emerge in the distance. Time had really flown while he was having fun.

He was about to head towards the drinks when he spotted her leaning against the railing in the opposite direction. The white-golden hair flowing behind her was an obvious wig. He’d seen her step to the stage to accept multiple awards tonight (or is it last night now?) and she had looked just as gorgeous with her natural color as she did all done up in her Farrah waves now. An unexpected jolt of excitement coursed through his veins as he realized she’d also opted for a 70’s look, complete with a scandalously (though by whose standards?) short metallic silver skirt with slits on either side and what he assumed was a matching top, though with her back to him as she peered out over the awakening city, all he really saw where the two thin silver chains that criss-crossed across her back. They looked like they would hold nothing up.

But she was alone and he knew it was now or never, so he strolled around the roof-top pool to step up beside her.

"I’m glad I finally found you. I wanted to congratulate you. It's not often a producer gets awards for both behind and front of camera work," he opened.

She turned her head and beamed a dazzling smile in return before thanking him and offering her own congratulations along with her hand and then a surprisingly friendly hello hug.

“I saw you nailed Best Male Performer and Best Anal again. Your Missionary: Impossible series was a true stroke of genius. I wish I had thought of it first.”

“So she’s not immune,” August thought as he peeled himself away from her warm body. “She remembers my name.” At least she recognized his star status. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten him. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and trained his eyes on her through his lashes.

“You know I’d love to have you join the cast,” he spoke as he finished the hello hand kiss and lifted his head to gaze directly at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that scream ‘spy’ quite as much as yours do.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a producer acting for another studio. You’ve got balls to ask, that’s for sure,” she laughed, tossing back the rest of her whisky before grabbing another off the tray passing by.

“Where’ve you been all night? I tried to find you right after the ceremony, but you disappeared and I had to run for a wardrobe change.” August tossed a casual grin and motioned at the cheesiness of his costume, though inside he was kicking himself. 

The point of engaging wasn’t to offer her a part. How ridiculous! He’d been doing that for months now and she wasn’t biting. No. Tonight he was going to get answers. Why had she consistently denied him another shot with her? It had to be more than just the technicalities of trying to untangle ownership and percentages filming another studio’s producer would bring. She broke into his train of thought with an explanation of her quick and sudden departure from the award banquet and why she hadn’t arrived at the after party locale for what had to be at least a few hours.

“Already prepping material for next year. We had a newcomer attend with the studio tonight. He’s an absolute stud. Looking to get his name out there so we filmed his first scene backstage.”

August’s hopeful heart sank a little. He couldn’t expect her not to keep putting out material just because his advances might finally be successful, but it would take all his cool charm and guile to woo her if she was already cock-drunk tonight. He put out another feeler.

“You look well put back together already,” he commented, eyes tracing her figure with obvious intent.

“Oh not me. No, I was directing. Looking to nab that ‘behind the scene newcomer’ award next year,” she beamed, her smile still welcoming. “No, Mikey did a little gonzo three-way for his first official movie with Darkk Angel. We’re releasing it next week after a quick trip to post and then have him lined up for three more scenes next month. I’m wondering if we can talk AVN into a “most prolific” award.” Her laughter was infectious and he found himself with a wide grin, verging on goofy in spite of his aim.

“You’ve never directed? How have I missed that?” August sought to focus attention away from whoever this Mikey kid was and back on her completely, then mentally kicked himself again for admitting something that could only make him look desperate and maybe a little creepy. From his statement, and along with all the official asks from his agent, she had to think he was a stalker, completely obsessed with her. 

Not that he wasn’t. Not since that very first time. Her “first’ anal scene. He understood she had to be a little overwhelmed at that shoot with so many people on set. She had clearly already fucked the director (for a scene) and was now just taking on a few actors who were already on a rise. It was his last commitment to the old studio and then he was off to a new contract with Hunt. God, he wished he could have taken her with him. As it was, the only thing he kept was her scent that lingered not long enough.

"You know, I've asked my agent about another scene with you more times than any other actor. He never has a good enough reason to tell me no. What gives?" August inquired.

She debated telling him the truth. That she was completely enamored of him despite, only having met once, and afraid to ruin her own fantasy. Yes, she thought about him often. She’d be lying if she said otherwise.

But what if he refused her counter-offers? What if he didn't play the way she had come to discover she wanted sometimes, needed even?

She could accept if his big dick in her pussy or ass was all he'd agree to again for one scene. But she wanted more. More than a scene. More than a spectacle.

"Industry's hottest stars finally fucking again!" she imagined the trade headlines would scream, not bothering to temper her own ego about her status.

And which studio got the rights? His or hers? Of course she would never give up the rights to those shots, those stills, that video. It had been years since any studio other than the one she owned had any rights to any images of her. Why August Walker didn't make the same professional move she had was beyond her, but at least she could play the upper hand if it came down to it. It was power to own the rights to your own material and that power trumped his studio contracts. Or at least she'd make that case. Plus Ethan Hunt was a little bitch and she’d be damned if she contributed to his profits in any way.

Still, she couldn’t get past the concern that having his big dick in her ass again would ruin her for anyone else ever again. It wasn't the size. Hell, she'd had two almost equal to him in there just the other day.

No. It was the fantasy. Not only what she already knew of his prowess, though if she’d improved over time, and she knew she had, he had to have gotten better too. But also what she imagined she knew based on the stories she'd heard. Stories about his true personality as well as the image she made up in her head based on tidbits of their past and innuendos of his present.

On set, she'd heard he’d become a bit of a prick. Even worse when the storyline called for Daddy. Not that it didn't make her wet to watch. And daydream about. Calling him Daddy, mmmm.

Except that wasn't her. Not her kink. Not her need. Not really.

And off set? Well, lips are usually loose in the industry, but somehow very few factual stories about dating August Walker were out there. Most of what she'd heard was easily dispelled rumor.

No, he wasn't into animal play. Either kind. Good.

No, he didn't force his partners to sleep in separate rooms after finishing. Why would someone even start that rumor? To what end? 

Her private private detective had tracked down the source and verified quickly. It was a little bit of column a, a little bit of column b. The studio was looking to cash in on the mystery and intrigue of their dashing playboy, and a jilted date wanted more. Who wouldn't want more of him? But that choice was self-sabotaging to say the least.

She was well aware that some women, and men for that matter, liked to imagine their favorite actor to be the world's largest asshole. No, not that way. 

That was the way she liked to imagine him. And the basis for her declination. He'd never say yes. She was sure of it.

And yet here he was. Blushing at the mere mention. Maybe she should have countered with that when he first started seeking her out. But she hadn't been ready to give up the rush she felt every time a message from Hunt Club studios appeared in her inbox.

August felt the heat rise in his cheeks and knew someone out there would say he was blushing, but August Walker does not blush.

As she leaned in, he swiped another surreptitious peek at her gorgeous and barely covered tits, though he was so smooth no one could have seen this time. Not that it mattered. He was right about the thin silver chains holding onto barely anything up front. Where she found tissue paper thin metallic material, he had no idea but her nipples showed through what little fabric there was making up the plunging neckline of the deep-vee tank, as if they weren’t also practically peeking out of the top as it was. She had them on display for a reason. But he was trying to make a move here. Trying to differentiate himself from the rest of the industry players and hangers-on hoping for a hook-up after the awards.

Champagne and liquor had flowed all night, powder cut, pills popped. He was tipsy but it was really the sunrise inching its way into the sky behind her, here on this rooftop bar next to the pool full of drunken, naked bodies, and the angelic halo circling the crown of her head that had him staring back into her eyes in no time, enraptured. Well, that and her reply.

“I have certain … desires that I’m not convinced you’d be amenable to and I didn’t want to alienate you.”

He went on to ask, no - insist, she explained her terms, right here right now. And she obliged, clarifying that she didn’t intend to be filmed at all. That her interest in climbing into bed with him was related only to the burning desire she’d felt to track him down, beg him for more, practically every day since that shoot. And the thing that convinced her not to bother was the never ending stream of talent she’d seen draped around him months, years later. 

But she wouldn’t, couldn’t deny that she wanted him. Wanted to relive that moment and then build on it. Take the scene farther than was written. Fuck him right off the page and into her life forever. It was indescribable the way he felt listening to her narrate her desire to own him. She was only mentioning the bedroom, but he got the feeling she meant the heart as well.

Still, she was being mysterious with the details, so August began to mention specifics. What he wouldn’t do.

"I won't lick your boots," he'd said with a grin after a shorter than expected list, still wavering on if he actually meant to convey the opposite.

"Maybe not," she replied before leaning in and whispering in his ear as he tilted down to meet her. It was clear from her next sentence that she’d finally figured out he’d say yes. He was practically begging for it right here in front of these few end-of-the evening stragglers. "But you will take every inch of me."

Negotiations had already begun and this was just ink on the dotted line. Along with a string of consent questions with compatible answers and now she knew his safeword and he knew hers. It wasn’t what it used to be. Because things can change. But not his desire for her.

He brushed past her non-binding handshake and drew her in for a confirmation kiss, hands gently pulling her waist towards him. “You still smell the same. It drives me crazy,” he admitted before pressing his lips to hers with a smile. Then he broke the kiss, which had begun to turn lascivious even for the nature of the event, afraid they’d never make it off the roof-top if he didn’t.

He gave a deceptively shy smile and knowing nod to Kelis as he passed her on his way out with the true object of his desire draped along his arm.

She sent her limo off with whatever crew was left at the party before climbing into the back of his. They had no sooner pulled away from the curb and begun to make their way to his hi-rise apartment building than the driver’s shield went up and she went down, unzipping his trousers and slipping her hand in to coax him out. 

She had gotten incredibly better at sucking dick in these interim years. But it was like she was finally home. Like her mouth opened magically around him to hold him close and taste his skin. It took everything in his power not to blow his load down her throat in the car. He wanted to be in her pussy when he came and there wasn’t much he wanted more at this moment.

He managed to pull her off and get her back on the seat, legs spread and ready to take his shoulders as he slipped his tongue deep inside her core. Moving the floss she’d bothered to pull on out of his way wasn’t hard in the least. He had her screaming by the time the limo pulled up outside his building.

August draped his suit jacket over her shoulders before he helped her out of the car and into the lobby. When the elevator doors closed around them, she turned and pressed him back into the wall, staring up at him with hunger and power equally.

“That’s the last time you call the shots tonight. I’m taking my shoes off as soon as we walk in your door, so you can’t accuse me of asking you to lick my boots. But you will be on your knees and you will put your mouth back on my pussy and do that one more time before anything else happens tonight. Understood?”

He stared down at her with amusement that morphed into understanding that ended in solemnity before the ding at his floor broke the silence.

“Yes ma���am,” he finally replied, resigned to her whim. He opened the lock with practiced ease, nothing shaking out of fear but only vibrating with anticipation. How had he missed her meaning all those years ago? 

“I wish I could show you how this feels,” she’d whispered in his ear as he held her chest tight against his. “But it’s nothing compared to how it feels from behind.”

At the time he thought she had meant for him to turn her around, still on top of him but back to chest. So he did. And she liked it. She came like a banshee and that squeeze is something they can’t fake. That’s what wins the awards anyway. The audience knows it’s acting, but when they can tell it’s something the actor actually wants, when the chemistry is kinetic, the high is so much higher. 

Clearly she’d had so much more in mind. When she came back down, he made sure to check the front door lock before he turned back to scoop her quivering body into his arms and carry her down the hall to his bedroom.

“Don’t think I’m anywhere near done with you just because I’m a wreck right now,” she called to him as he set her onto his bed. “Where are you going?”

“I would never think you’d consider that enough for an evening. I want to freshen up, if you don’t mind. May I?” August quirked an eyebrow awaiting her response and it was clear he’d come right back to the bed if she forbade it. No questions asked. But she allowed it and that only made him ache for her more. He’d be quick.

“Damn right you will!” she called out after him before ridding herself of her own garments. 

Her hand must have found its way to the soaking mess between her legs and this is how August found her when he stepped out of the bathroom a very short while later, rubbing a towel over his head after peeling it off his body. He watched her luxuriate in the slippery slide feel of her fingers dipping in and out, rubbing, pinching, pumping, pumping, pumping.

He dipped carefully onto the bed. He had no desire to startle her out of her joy, he only wanted to witness it up close. He crawled alongside her and watched as her chest heaves softened and listened as her sighs became longer. When she finally opened her eyes on a deep inhale, he smiled at her.

“May I join you?” So respectful.

“Kiss me,” she commanded, and while he heeded she lifted his arm and guided his hand between her legs. “And touch me,” she whispered into his mouth. 

He obeyed. His fingers drifted through her folds and made use of the slick that remained to press up into her. One, two, one, two. And now three. And now she’s grinding up against his hand and breaking the kiss to demand more and he’s giving it to her but it’s not enough, is it?

“More,” she cried out. “Fuck me, August.”

He was grateful at that moment for two revelations from the rooftop. He already knew his own status, testing often despite Hunt’s lackadaisical studio regulations. But she had shared that her studio adopted the standard of routine and regular testing early on and therefore she knew exactly what her status was, too. And, coupled with the fact that she had the implant, she had no qualms going bare. All these things led to the next thing he was grateful for and that was the feel of her pussy wrapped all the way around him as he slipped his prodigious cock deep inside her. 

He mused he could do this all night. Or rather all day and into the night, when the moon began to rise again. Because it wasn’t night at all. It was broad daylight now and it was streaming in through the mirrored windows. Nobody could see it, even if they did find themselves on level with the height of his apartment. But no curtains meant he could see the way the sunlight brightened her face and it made him want to see all of her.

“Will you take it off, too?” he asked, staring down at her while he pistoned his hips into hers and felt her open and warm around him. “Please?”

He wasn’t used to begging. As much as he wasn’t a blusher, he definitely wasn’t a beggar but he found himself wanting to do anything for her and she wanted him to beg. Or at least ask nicely. And he wanted to obey. For the first time, maybe ever, August Walker wasn’t in charge.

She obliged and pulled the wig off easily. It wasn’t even pinned on, there was so much bang to cover the cap. All that meant was she was able to free her natural hair with ease and he was thankful. Now she lay bare before him and he got to take a good long, up close and personal look before she took it all away.

Faster than he would have preferred she slipped back and eased him out, but turned just as quickly to take him in her mouth. August let his eyes fall closed while he relished the feeling of her mouth around his cock again, but just when it started feeling really good, it also started feeling too good. If she continued he was going to come and he really meant it when he decided he wanted to be inside her for that. And not her mouth.

“Please,” it was practically a whisper. She almost hadn’t heard. But she let go with a pop and asked.

“What was that?”

“Please,” he begged again, raspy but with sound this time, voice hitching as she took him back in her mouth for just the briefest of sucks.

“What are you asking for?”

When he pleaded again with a cracked voice, she smiled as she let go.

“What is it, August? Huh? What do you want? Or not want?”

“Please…please don’t.” he stuttered as she continued to toy with him. Dick in and then out of his mouth with no concern for his predicament.

“Say it, August. Ask nicely.”

“Don’t make me come,” he begged, even as she sank to wrap her lips around him once more. “Please.”

“If that’s what you want. You only have to ask. Nicely.” She was so proud of him and he could feel that. Could tell she’d do anything for him. And let him do anything for her.

“Let me fuck you,” he asked. “Please. Just ….”

“Don’t bother saying it, you and I both know 5 minutes turns into 20 in no time,’ she laughed with him as she lay back with her legs spread wide for him. He stayed kneeling between her legs and watched her face explode with pleasure as he rocked deep and strong inside of her. He wasn’t trying to overcome her, wasn’t looking to establish any kind of dominance. Not on purpose at least. Because the fact of the matter was, that no matter how much he wanted to let her be in charge, it just came so naturally to him. It was hard to drop that mantle. Especially while fucking into her and watching her fall apart around him.

Then she shook her head and through sheer will, dragged herself back from the precipice to snake an arm up his chest, fingers drifting to his neck and drawing him down against her. 

“Kiss me again, August,” she commanded and he obliged with no hesitation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t resist and instead put her right back in the trance his cock had caused, but he didn’t want to. They’d agreed on this night. Agreed what it would mean. He was finally getting what he’d craved all these years. And so was she.

Their tongues tangled while his fingertips traveled over velvety skin, her legs wrapped around hips, his thick member pistoned in and out of her wet and slippery cunt that she controlled so well. She hadn’t been wrong. August imagined he could stay like this forever if she’d let him, drowning in her glory, ego stroked with every gasp and whimper and cry of hers. It was music to his ears. He’d heard enough fake moans and pants over the years to know what the real thing sounded like and he never wanted to give it up.

When he felt her squeeze tight around him for the second time, he began to slow, sure that more than twenty minutes had passed but completely uninterested in confirming his suspicion. No, he wanted her on her knees again.

“Can I have you from behind?” he murmured in her ear after kissing his way along her cheek and neck. “Just for 5 minutes.”

She could feel his grin, but before she could compose an appropriate response, he’d shifted, changed tempo and hit a different spot that had her howling and fighting the urge to beg him for more. Even then brief respite she’d have while they switched positions should allow her to gather her wits and tamp down her desire to just let him rail her into the next day. Because tonight was for something more. So she pushed him back away from her, flipped and pulled herself to all fours while crawling towards the center of the bed.

With a seductive glance over her shoulder, she called to him, “Come and get it, stud.”

Five minutes in heaven. That’s all she was going to allow him. She pressed her chest down into the bed and let him drag her hips into the air, flesh captured under his strong fingers. She screamed into the sheets as August directed her pleasure with practiced skill and just when she felt she couldn’t hold on any longer, he slipped a saliva-coated thumb into her ass and sent her reeling. He’d timed it perfectly. 

“You’re done,” she fought through her haze to flip to her back and clarify. “We still have a deal, right?”

She watched him stroking himself lazy and slow to stay hard while his eyes blinked shut with relief almost involuntarily. 

“Yes,” he replied, his exhale full of yearning. “Will you show me?”

“Show you what, August? Hmm?” she asked with a tilt of her head, pleased he was finally ready to give in to what he’d already agreed to back on that rooftop.

“Show me how it feels.” It wasn’t a question, yet still not a command. He’d never dare to command her. Not until she was ready for him to. And that wasn’t tonight.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since we met.”

All those years. All that time. August closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told himself it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He pulled back a bit from the ledge that he wanted to step over for missing her meaning all along. As if she could read his mind, she spoke from somewhere that felt like a dream.

“I’m glad you waited though. I wasn’t ready either. I was trying to get over my nerves and thought a little brazen tease directed at the top talent on set would help. But I’ve discovered I really do like sharing that experience, knowing I can make a man feel the way he makes me feel. Make him understand how much better it is when it's from someone who cares."

When he opened his eyes, she was pulling herself up to her knees to meet him. He felt her hands trace along his chest as she pressed her lips to his. It was almost sweet, but definitely a relief. She really did want this as much as he did.

For a mini-eternity, they let their tongues tangle and hands roam. August shivered as her nails traced down his back with the perfect dig and smiled into her lips as he thought about the red lines he’d be left with the next day. He cradled the nape of her neck as even on knees he towered over her and let a hand drift down the soft skin of her side and around her waist to cup her ass.

When her hands finally landed in the same spot on him, he felt another layer of tension release as she caressed and squeezed each cheek with passion. She broke the kiss and nuzzled down his chest, landing on her elbows before him. With eagerness, she took hold of his still invigorated member, gave a few soft strokes, and then put him back in her warm, wet, inviting mouth. 

But this blowjob had an ulterior motive that August felt as soon as it turned sloppy and her saliva began to drip and pool around him. With a now slick hand, she slipped her fingers off the base of his cock and in between his legs, tracing past the waxed-bare skin off his balls and teasing his entrance.

She circled and smoothed and kneaded until he finally felt a finger ease past the first ring of muscle and he had to put a hand on her head to slow the bob that was already threatening to pull his orgasm too soon. Surely she didn’t want that, did she?

August dropped his head back with a groan of pleasure as she let her spit drop onto her fingers again before pressing a second digit inside, just beginning to open him up to all her possibilities. It already felt so, so good. If this was all she did for him, it was worth it, but not really what he wanted. He’d had a few other lovers tease him like this, but he always stopped them short, still too nervous to let them go all the way to where he needed.

He’d kept this part of himself secret, shared it with no one, tested it only when alone. He knew it was stupid to hide this craving, especially given how exposed he allowed himself to be on film. But this was something different. Something personal. Private. That’s what he told himself. And he let his stature in the industry dictate the type of man he was in a bedroom, with a woman but without the cameras, for far too long.

His head was spinning as her tongue licked his length and her fingers teased and touched. She was pressing and pushing deeper and when she finally found his spot it took every ounce of willpower to maintain composure. He still wanted more of her, still didn’t want to come yet.

It dawned on him then that she hadn’t brought an overnight bag with change of clothes for the morning or toys for the evening. Just her ridiculously sexy wisp of an outfit and a tiny clutch that couldn’t have hidden even a bottle of lube, let alone the tool she needed to fulfill their bargain. She’d promised him he’d take every inch of her. Could she really have meant only this? Was she expecting him to come as she beckoned inside him?

“I can hear your thoughts, August” she purred up at him with a smile, mouth off his dick, but fingers still toying with him. “I don’t want to stop here either. I’m sure you can help me out, can’t you?”

She felt him tense and knew he was weighing the pros and cons of admitting what she had guessed when he agreed to take her home immediately without offering to make a stop along the way. August had his own equipment. No doubt about it.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, removing her fingers completely and returning to her knees to kiss him hard and deep before speaking to him on his level. “You don’t have to hide anymore. Show me what you need.” 

She watched the seas of his eyes storm with fear before settling into calm as she held his gaze with no judgment, no mockery. She kissed him again, licked into the space between his lips and felt the passion as he held her tight, almost holding on for his life while he kissed her back.

When he finally broke free, he stepped back off the bed and opened the nightstand to remove a bottle of lube before he moved across the room to a mirrored armoire. He opened the doors and removed a sleek, black box which he brought back to place slowly on the nightstand, clearly deep in thought. And then he hesitated, hands resting on the lid of the box, head down.

“I don’t…” he started, and she felt a small ache in her heart. She had never seen him so vulnerable. Not that she spent much time alone with him at all, but this was truly a side she hadn’t quite expected after everything she knew about him.

“We can take our time, August,” she spoke with a careful tone and no desire to spook him. He remained still and she felt reassured he wasn’t running, not in his mind or his body. When he spoke, she had to stifle a small laugh for fear she would send him running from misplaced shame.

“I only mean, I don’t have a harness for you.” He turned, fingertips of only one hand still on the closed box, eyes scanning hers for understanding. And she understood completely.

She moved closer to the edge of the bed and grinned at him. “Oh, August. Oh baby, this is what has you worried? You think I can’t make it good for you if I’m not wearing it?” She watched this new layer of tension begin to melt away as he registered her words. “August Walker, I meant what I said and I can’t wait to fuck you however I can. And believe me, I know how to make it good.”

She waited for him to relax, to speak, to return to his usual manner and let her back in. Then she took a calculated breath, dropped the timbre of her voice, and called to him.

“And you’re going to let me, aren’t you August?”

Her eyes dropped just in time to see the twitch in his still hard-cock and she knew he was back and ready to let her have him. He flipped the lid to the lacquer box with one finger and revealed a small treasure trove of devices, any of which she’d be thrilled to treat him with. With no idea how prepared he really was, she let him choose. 

“Will you start with this?” August handed her not the smallest, but not the largest either and she accepted willingly. “It’s been a minute.”

With complete understanding she led him back into bed on his knees before grabbing the lube from the nightstand and setting about her business. Kisses first. Deep and hungry. She wanted his tongue down her throat and he obliged while she held the dildo and lube in one hand and stroked his rock hard cock with the other. 

Before too long, she’d dropped the toy to the bed and flipped the lid to the tube, using proprioception to drop several dollops onto her open hand before reaching between his spread legs while still commanding his kiss. Her fingers smoothed the viscous fluid over his entrance and dipped a little in with a finger before she reached for the prosthetic and smeared the rest around the tip and down the base.

Her lips left his reluctantly as she ordered him to hands and knees while she maneuvered behind him. With practiced skill, she massaged and manipulated her fingers inside him once more, listening for the moans and groans that told her he was ready for her to place the tip alongside a finger and ease the toy inside. She watched him carefully, moving slowly and waiting for him to relax fully before she slipped the whole thing in and he took it with the sweetest grunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, August. Just like I knew you would. Does it feel good?” she questioned, while gently pulling and pushing, twisting and pressing, smiling when he answered in the affirmative. With each motion she listened for the sounds that would tell her where and how it felt best and she was quick to learn his needs.

“Fuck…just like that,” he begged and hitched back into her, already wanting more.

“Impatient,” she teased lightly as she shifted to the side so she could both lean over to capture his lips again and still work the toy in and out of his slowly writhing body. She kept him wanting, shifting the speed and direction, for as long as he could last before he finally begged for the real thing.

She left him face down and ass up while she switched gear, careful to add more lube to both him and the larger phallus. But when she was ready to finally give him what he wanted, she paused for just a moment to consider orientation. She was certain positioning him to face the mirror would be too much for this first time together, but there would be others, she was sure now.

Other times to see the exquisite pain she knew would soon drip down his face as she wielded the apparatus and gave him every inch he asked for. She ran a hand up his back and grabbed onto his shoulder for more leverage as she worked him into a frenzy. He was bucking back into her and the moans that drifted from his lips were music to her ears. All the practice and care she’d taken, learning how to please a lover this way were paying off.

She knew how it felt, knew how he was riding each high and low. Watched him relax into his pleasure, at times letting her control him completely before he shifted his hips and dug into the bed with hands and knees to find purchase that would allow him to grind hard onto the sizable dildo she brandished with expertise. She’d go all night like this if he wanted.

As his circuits finally broke, she could see the waves of pleasure begin to ripple along his spine. He was coming furiously hard, perhaps harder than he had in a long time, no matter how many uses this toy of his had gotten on his own. She was that good at sensing and feeling and pushing and pulling exactly how and when and where he needed.

And August definitely needed. That much was abundantly clear as he collapsed fully to the bed, panting and gasping for air as he rode the waves of his lingering orgasm. She could see him twitching and knew the feeling because it was exactly how she felt after everyone of the orgasms he’d given her tonight. Like an explosion of sensation she never wanted to come down from and she’d given that to him finally.

She left him to catch his breath and stepped to the bathroom to run warm water over a soft washcloth and grab a fresh towel on the way back. When he was cleaned and dry, she tucked into the covers with him and pulled him to her, guiding his head to her chest.

“You feel okay? Need anything else right now?” she asked him quietly as her hand drifted up and down his back.

“I wanted to come inside you,” August admitted with an exhausted sigh.

“We’re gonna have a lifetime of that.”

Everything HC Taglist: If this isn't your thing, no hard feelings? (as always, let me know if you want on or off; if you've asked and your aren't here, try me again but know that Tumblr sometimes doesn't let me tag everyone.)

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[razzle-n-dazzle]

Excuse me, I hope you have a good day! If your requests are open I would like to request Blitzo with an enemies to lovers trope kind of with perhaps the reader being a concubus (gn succubus) with Verosika's posse, and the two have a competitive streak with each other. They both are supposed to be enemies (because they are loyal to Veroskia) but they don't realize how hard they are falling until they accidentally save Blitzo/IMP one time... Which turns into them saving them other times all by mere "coincidence" but it's really because they started looking out for him crushing hard and wanting to keep him safe. Even if they feel like they can never admit it because of Verosika. Happy ending or not, Blitzy requesting! <3

ᯓ★ "Lust, not Love . . . Love, not Lust?" Biltzo / concubus! Reader | Drabble Warning! - not proof read (we die like Adam), implied sex, hate-make out but not really hate-make out scenes, light gore, name calling

ᯓ How the fuck did you even manage to get here? Being pushed onto Blitzo's desk was the dusk of the night was settling through the drawn window. On either side of you laid his hands, pinning you in place as though he thought you would make some cheap shot and move away; Which, you were half tempted to do. Yet, instead, you would wrap your legs around his waist and draw the Imp closer, harshly cupping his cheeks so he could shove his tongue further down your mouth. Fuck, it felt so nice! Your eyes would flutter as you felt Blitzo groan, his clawed hands reaching up to squeeze and kneed your thighs needlingly. "You're fucking gross," He would groan, not even being able to wait until you both broke for a quick puff of air, causing you to snicker into the heated kiss. "Oh, shut it, you know you like it!" You would bite back, reaching to tug on one of Blitzo's horns. You knew it would rile him up; Verosika talked all the time about how Blitzo was a slut for his horns to be pulled, tugged, played with. And was it a sweet sound that escaped his mouth, a flustered gasp for air paired with a growl, making him all worked up and pretty. The glare he gave you sent shivers down your spine.

ᯓ And shit you kind of needed him too. Even if logically you know you should be pushing him off, running far away from the Imp out of loyalty to Verosika, there was something that just made you stay. Something that tickled your stomach and your heart all at once, that drove you insane, that had you crawling back to the pathetic Imp, Verosika's ex, on all fours.

ᯓ Gladly you never publicly did that, only in your mind . . . sometimes. And yet you could never tell anyone what happened here, that night under the cover of the shadows and in the arms of an Imp. That would be a secret you had to keep to the grave; Even if he did give you the best time you've had in a while.

ᯓ But how the hell did you even end up in the Imp's arms in the first place?

ᯓ Well, it started when Verosika had moved her headquarters to the same building that I.M.P. was in; gaining the same floor, stealing their parking spot, and well just being a bitch. You had a hunch she did all this in spite of Blitzo, hating his guts so much that she wanted to torture him after they broke up. Which, before you met or saw him, made you think he was some sort of sexy Imp who could turn anyone's heads. Then you saw him and was, well, disappointed. Verosika was getting her panties into a twist over some short Imp who couldn't even stand up to her at first. He had to send one of his workers in before he even stepped foot into the studio! To you, he was a waste of time. A nobody who got a shot with a popstar and blew it for not being able to love properly, or something like that.

ᯓ So, you no attention to him at first; why should you? He was someone who, when the competition was a complete, would be a no body to you! Just another bad decision from Verosika you would have to hear about every so often just because you worked for her . . . and sometimes it made you question whether or not you should have accepted that job offer from her.

ᯓ Your interest for Blitzo first began at that very competition, or demon duel, which you had little interest in yet participated in because 1) it was good way to gain more magic and fulfill your hunger and 2) Verosika told you to. Persuading humans to fuck you, along with the others, was easy enough to do, even easier when it's a bunch of horny teenager son spring break; A simple look and or a flirty wink and you had them hook and sinker. Even if it left you feeling dirty by the end of being banged by 3 different people in a row, not being given a chance to properly breath as Verosika seemed oh-so-determined to win that bet. You were a concubus, sure, but fucking people you didn't know wasn't exactly your style; Which was always pointed out as weird, but you gained more power by fucking someone you knew or wanted . . . desperately.

ᯓ So all this was doing was both wearing you out and making you feel like a whore, which in turn made you feel like absolute shit! Can't exactly fucking people if you're feeling yourself or your body. Which led you to wondering away from the crowd, shoving past the tangled mess of naked or half-naked bodies attempting to fuck into each other, to get some air away from the scent of sweat and sea water and booze. "Fuck me. . ." The mumble left your lips as you trailed along the beach, dragging your aching legs. Wanting nothing more than to go home and shower, maybe take some pain killers and go to sleep, never brought you closer to relief. It only lead to you sitting on a barrel under the bridge that was over the beach. And, you know, you weren't trying to attract attention. You really weren't. Yet, it seems like everything you wanted never went your way anyways, "Oh, look! I knew I smelled something fishy." Blitzo's voice drawled out, his words instantly as sharp and thrashing as his tail behind him. And if you hadn't just been fucked by three guys, two at once, you would have probably gave him the anger he wanted out of your reaction. Yet you couldn't, "Oh fuck off, Blitzo! Go bash someone's brains in and jack off, I know it's your kink." You could already feel the way his eyes narrowed at you, the hostility basically seeping out of his pores to drown everyone around him. "Can't exactly fucking do that when you're stinking up the whole place! Shouldn't you go be getting your holes filled, Whore?"

ᯓ People often say that first impressions are always the most important, but you choose to say different. While they can be important to judge people off of, you've heard too much about Blitzo before you even got to know him! So, you never did get a proper first impression. Instead you got the pleasure to know how long his dick was before you even got to know his face! Thanks, Verosika. And yet, even if that did technically count as your first impression, or first meeting, with Blitzo it didn't change much about your impression on him. At least, not in that moment. He was still the dick bag cunt ex of your boss and you had no intention of sticking around and talking to him. So, as he turned to talk to some hellhound that was by his side, you snuck off and walked down the opposite side of the beach. No need to stick around if he already ended the conversation on a sour 'Whore'.

ᯓ You know, you never really understood the concept of 'love' before Blitzo. That was something you realized when you had woken up after your fuck session on his desk after that . . . strange dream of the first time you spoke to him. You would groan as you shrugged yourself to sit up, feeling a weight on your chest that caused your eyes to drift down and meet with an all too familar jacket, and yet no Blitzo. It caused you to blink once more, maybe again for good measure before you rubbed your eyes just to make sure they were squeaky clean before taking in the sight below you. Oh fuck. . . I just fucked my boss's ex. Was the thought that ran through your head, panicked and crazed, as you quickly glanced around frantically. You had to make sure no one saw you and that you could still wear your clothes!- Fuuck. What were you going to tell Verosika? Hey, I slept with your ex sorry about that, didn't mean it, it was hate fucking, you know how it is! No, you couldn't!- Ugh, shit. The fact that you had been abandoned on Blitzo's desk, with no Blitzo in sight, hadn't even crossed your mind. Even as you raised your hands, drawing his jacket up to your face to hide in, hoping that some freak accident would happen and just kill you.

ᯓ That would, sadly, be better than facing Verosika's wrath.

ᯓ Love! Such a crazy concept and you defiantly shouldn't know it or even feel it! You were a concubus, you were a demon made out of the pure essence of Lust and Craving; You got your magic by fucking people, your body, hip curves and plush thighs were made to be admired and fucked. You were like a sex toy, you were a sex toy to most, and yet. . . there was this weird feeling that had began to fester in your chest. A feeling that grew the more of Blitzo's scent wafted into your nose.

ᯓ Shit, when had this even started? Was it that day on the beach? You doubted it. You felt nothing but tire and ire from talking to Blitzo while trying to hide from your duties. Was it the days after? No, you never got much of a chance to dwell on the thought of him nor did you get much of a chance to talk to him. So when did it start? No, not when you had noticed it, you remembered that day well enough, especially since you almost died trying to save that Imp and his team. But, when had the feeling started to festered in your chest, implanting it's way into your heart and igniting itself in a way you've never felt before? In a way that had started to make you crave him in a way you never experienced? Should you talk to Ozzie about this, you were relatively good friends, yet . . . would he even understand? You doubted it; He dealt with Lust, not Love. Love; shit! No, no, you can't name it Love even . . . even when it felt so right.

ᯓ Rescue day was as clear in your mind as though it had happened yesterday; It was around the time you had been watching I.M.P. for a good month or so, just 'curious' about what they were doing, where they where going, who they were going to go kill, and who they were doing it for. It was all in pure curiosity, you had reassured everyone else in the office, and yet you think you had just been lying to yourself; Trying to shove down the prodding and poking feeling, shove it deep, deep down until it couldn't be felt anymore. But what kind of bitch who isn't a psychopathic maniac in love with the thrill of dying would go to such lengths you had to save I.M.P. from uncertain doom?

ᯓ "What the fuck? How did you even manage to do this shit, fucktard!" You would yell, your body flushed with the flesh of your human disguise which made it so much more uncomfortable to run. Though you still hand onto Blitzo's wrist as he used his free hand to shoot back, trying to kill anyone who was daring to follow the group. "What-" Moxxiewould mumble, quickly jumping over a trash can that had been thrown carelessly on the sidewalk. He stumbled before regaining his footing, "Aren't you like- working for Verosika?! Shouldn't you be helping them get us, not . . . saving us? Is this even saving us? We're just running!" Though his confusion would fall onto death ears as Blitzo shot another bullet out of his gun, watching as it pierced through an officer's head and gushed out brains and guts on those behind him. You would shutter as Blitzo yelled, "I don't know, maybe someone," He would cough, obviously fibbed, "MOXXIE!" Again that fibbed cough, "shot the wrong target! And then the human police were called and they're on our ass because we KILLED SOMEONE, GENIUS! How else did you think we got here?" "Oh, I don't know, I thought you may have tried to FUCK a police officer!" You quipped back, "Oh, sorry, you fucking can't because you're scared of sexual relationships, my bad. I forgot!" "Oh please, you can't fucking forget because I know Verosika shit talks me to you every day! DON'T BE FUCKING PLAYING THE INNOCENT CARE ON ME." Blitzo would shoot back, not noticing as Moxxie had tripped over his own foot and almost fell; Though thankfully Millie had been there to catch him, lifting him up into her own arms so they could keep pace with the others. Loona, who was tired of having to hear the gunshots and the bickering betewen Blitzo and you, snapped; "Can we stop hate flirting for a second and fucking get out of here before one of us get shot?!"

ᯓ "WE'RE NOT HATE FLIRTING."

ᯓ "Yeah, because it's so much more convincing when you both say it at the same FUCKING time." Sarcasm dripped out of Loona's tongue as she slung her bag over her shoulders, bringing it in front of her. She began to rustle around for something as you feel a sudden coldness in your hand; Blitzo had drew his own wrist away from your touch. Cold, that's all you felt; and it stung sharp and harsh. Pitiless.

ᯓ You really had to stick out your neck for someone like that? Someone who now left you up and dry on his desk after 'hate-fucking' you? Why would you ever fuck someone as pathetic as that, had desperate had you been? . . . Had you even been desperate? You couldn't remember feeling desperate, like you usually forced yourself to feel when you fuck someone for power, or a purpose other than the alternative which isn't important. It couldn't be important when you were clearly the only one who felt the same and Blitzo just wanted some- "Oh good, you're awake." The sound of the door opening and closing jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to scurry and cover yourself. "I thought I was about to have to drag your ass to sleep on my couch, and that would have been a whole 'nother fucking problem." Blitzo would mumble, coming up behind you. You felt him linger, you wondered if he wanted to do something yet was too scared to do so; Which, you guessed was true because he walked around the desk without doing anything and sat down on his chair, sat down in front of you. Which was weird. This was all weird, you didn't know how to react seeing Blitzo, who was dressed, sitting in front of you drinking his coffee like you weren't literally butt ass naked on his desk. "What?" Blitzo muttered, noticing your staring. You would simply point at him and then the desk, trying to formulate the words that didn't want to stick together: "Are . . . we going to fucking pretend that you didn't just fuck me on your desk last night?"

ᯓ "Do you want me to pretend like I didn't just fuck you on my desk last night?" The question lingered in the air, bringing with it silence. Your eyes were kept on Blitzo's before they faltered away, looking down at the ground. Did you want him to pretend that he wasn't grunting and groaning your name last night, that you hadn't been clawing at his back and screaming his?

ᯓ Was that really what you wanted?

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[violetszone]

Baby fever

Charles x fem!reader

From this request

Summary: Charles had a baby fever because of your sister's baby when you went to dinner to your sisters home

WARNINGS: oral (fem receiving),Bad English (a little google translate),Google translate French,breeding

You and Charles used to make jokes about  babies to annoy each other because neither of you wanted it and Charles' career had just begun. but as time progressed, you realized that you both wanted to have a baby, even if you didn't show it.

You went to dinner with charles to your sisters and your sister's 1 year old daughter was staying with you all night in your arms or at least next to you.Even if you didn't realize, every time Charles saw the baby in your arms, something was happening to his heart and his eyes were shining.

When it was time to say goodbye to your sisters and go home,You said goodbye to the baby, and she started to cry. It was very difficult for both of you to leave her. When you finally left the house and got into the car, you felt that you missed her already.

The way home was quiet, as usual, you went into the house and started to get away with your clothes on but there was something else Charles helped you take off your dress and then turned you towards him and started kissing your lips passionately.

When your kiss was over he looked into your eyes "I want a baby right now there is nothing that breaks my heart more than seeing you taking care of that baby and not having that baby, let's make a baby"

"Wait are you serious Charles this is a big decision and your career-" He kissed you to silence you and you slowly started to walk towards the bed you folded your arms around his shoulders, you fell on the bed together Charles broke the kiss and started to leave small kisses on your body.

When the kiss finally got to your groin, he slid your underwear down and threw it aside.First he left little kisses again, then he licked it lightly, you bit your lips and looked down expectantly, his eyes were on you. When he started licking, that's when you're screwed, you started to move so he put his hands on your thighs to keep you steady.

"Oh shit Charles" he continued while licking he stuck a finger in it and made you moan then added another "More i need more please" After a few little licks, he came close to you again and placed a small kiss on your lips, you can taste yourself.

He took off his boxer and rubbed his hardened cock into your entrance, causing you to moanHe slowly entered you and you both groaned with fullness.he started to speed up his hands wouldn't leave your waist you groaned when he hit your g spot "fuck yes go on" he continued he knew how your body was reacting

"Are you close my love I know now I'm going to fill your tight pussy. Do you know how sexy you will look when you get pregnant ma déesse" you did nothing but groan at his words you put your hands on his back and bit your nails, which caused him to groan and his movements harden 

Charles dropped a few kisses on your lips "putain je vais jouir" (fuck I am going to cum) he groaned "I can't Charles please" after a few moves you both cum Charles cummed inside and it was the sexiest thing you ever felt in your life

When you both catch your breath , you looked for Charles to come out  "No, we have to make sure you're get pregnant, also get your energy and get some rest we will continue" you chuckled  and really the night went on.

[spotsandsocks]

In my defence I was left unsupervised M 1.3k

Buck gets bored and decides on a new look, he may have doubts about the end result but Eddie’s having thoughts, interesting thoughts.

Eddie Diaz might be many things but a convincing liar is apparently not one of them if Buck’s expression is anything to go by. Regardless of the doubt plastered all over his friend’s face Eddie tries again to make Buck feel better.

“It’s… not … that bad?”

“Not that bad?”

Technically they’re the same three words but the tone and therefore the meaning couldn’t be more different. Buck’s incredulous, his face conveys the message Eddie must be dumb or blind or possibly both.

“Not that bad?!”

Buck repeats himself and turns back to stare into the mirror on Eddie’s wall sighing heavily.

“What the fuck was I thinking?”

Buck runs a hand over his head then closes his eyes in distress.

It’s actually quite a sensible question so Eddie repeats it.

“What were you thinking?

That’s fair question right? Eddie decides it has to be because it’s only natural to query the dubious decision making skills of one Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley at the best of times and especially when he seems so distressed by the results of his life choices.

Eddie studies Buck, who’s studying his own reflection with a frown. It certainly is a change. Eddie had definitely been a little taken aback when Buck had walked in 5 minutes ago but now the shock is wearing off there is actually something quite… he redirects his thoughts quickly.

Buck still hasn’t given his reasons for the alterations to his appearance so Eddie rephrases the question.

“I mean… why… ??” his words trail off and he just points with a finger at the relevant area of Buck.

The answer manages to be both ridiculous and entirely plausible. If you know Buck, which he does.

“Because I was bored.”

The noise he makes is entirely involuntary. Honestly, Eddie can’t be judged for the amused and exasperated sound that escapes. Buck does these things to himself. Still staring at his own reflection the man in question adds,

“You know, in retrospect I don’t think bored people should be left unsupervised with scissors.”

The grim declaration is so ridiculous Eddie has to swallow down the urge to laugh because really only Buck would cut all his hair off on a whim.

“It’s so short.” Buck’s voice is a plaintive whine and his blue eyes crinkle in distress.

He’s right obviously, it is extremely short; not quite an army level buzz cut but not too far off. Eddie will miss the curls but on the other hand the longer he looks the more he’s having thoughts and from his point of view it really isn’t “that bad”. Quite the opposite. Sometimes you have to face facts; Buck’s just too damn attractive for any haircut to be truly bad.

In fact the more he studies Buck’s image in the mirror the more he likes it.

The severity of the style adds something to his features. The angles on his face have become sharper which in turn make his lips seem fuller. He’s more….Eddie considers his options and settles on rugged, as the right word, with sexy coming in in second place. Also for some reason Buck’s eyes look bluer and have become far more piercing.

There must be a draft somewhere because a slight shiver runs down his spine as he keeps staring at Buck staring at himself.

It would probably feel good too, under his fingertips. Soft and kinda fuzzy. He can just imagine Buck closing his eyes and sighing in pleasure if he did reach out and scratch through the soft strands of hair.

Continue on ao3

[ihateapbiology]

Jb and reader's relationship steps. Like moving together or something. Thank you x

thank you so much for the request!!

moving in together

You looked at your tiny apartment. It looked sad all empty and desolate, probably because it was sad. You had lived in that apartment for two years and fortunately had been able to save a good amount of money as the rent wasn’t that high. It had been an okay starter apartment as you really got roots down in Nashville and got going with your career. It had also caused soooo many little nuisances like when the whole apartment building got infested with rats. You shuddered at the thought and then jumped again when you felt arms around your waist.

“You sayin your goodbyes?” Your girlfriend, Julien teased.

You reciprocated the teasing “yeah I’m having second thoughts I love this place too much.”

She laughed and grabbed your final box for you with one hand and grabbed your hand with her other. “I’m so happy.” She says simply, the short words were enough, what else could either of you say, there would never be enough words to describe the feeling of contentness you felt right now. You two after having a conversation on your 2.5 year anniversary had decided to start the process of moving in together.

Immediately the option of you guys moving into your old apartment was quickly struck down by you both. Julien also felt like moving into her apartment wouldn’t make you feel like it was completely “yours” too and she didn’t want that. So the decision was decided you two would hunt for a place and eventually as if a sign from the universe a cute, spacious place on music row opened up. You saw the look in your girlfriend’s eyes when she saw it and you knew you were saying yes. You two both had been working hard, saving etc etc and finally the day came when it was time to move in. You throw the last box into her red pick up truck. “Alright baby” she grins opening the passenger door.

She drives to the apartment both of you with massive grins on your faces. When you finally get there she pulls into a parking garage and you two meet the realtor who had sold it to you.

“Hi you guys I’m happy to see you two on such a big day for you guys.” The realtor smiles holding the keys among a couple other things.

You two get the remaining paper work all finished outside the building because Julien “didn’t want the first time we walk into the apartment when it’s truly ours to be spoiled by paperwork.”

Finally the realtor left with a wave and you two sprinted up the steps of the building, up two flights of stairs and down the hallway.

Of course you had visited the apartment but it was different now.

“3,2,1” you swung open the door.

You guys walked around it as if you had never been in there before.

“Wow the shower’s more perfect than I remember it.” You mention, truthfully you had no clue what made a shower good or bad but it was like the one piece of “furniture” In the apartment so it was perfect.

“Our shower is perfect” Julien modifies with a smirk.

The next hour was spent with you guys just sitting on the floor of the apartment talking. Talking about plans and ideas for the place, admiring eachother.

“Oh shit the stuff” you laugh realizing it was 5 pm and you probably shouldn’t leave a pickup truck with your guys’s stuff outside like that.

You guys bring a couple boxes up. You bite your lip whenever you catch her lifting the heavy boxes up the stairs.

“Hm see somethin you like?” She teases.

“Yeah that box is so sexy.” You laugh.

You both are exhausted when most of the things are up. You find a box with your clothes and change into more comfy ones.

“We gotta go to CVS” you mention with a smile.

“Why?” She says confused.

“To get like an air mattress and dinner.” You yawn resting your head on her.

She kisses your temple “you’re right. Want me to go and you can chill here?”

“No no I want to go with you.”

You guys go to the CVS that’s pretty close by and buy a pump, air mattress, some random pillows and the most random things for dinner.

As you take turns pumping it up, and then collapse down on it also using it as your guy’s table, you had never felt happier.

“I’m beyond lucky.” You say “I love you so much Julien you are the perfect partner for me.”

“im the lucky one, you’ve filled something inside of me I had thought was dead years ago.”

You guys both are exhausted and just collapse down onto the mattress.

You cuddle up to her and she rests her face in the crook of your neck.

“Some furniture shopping tomorrow?” You ask.

“Yes definitely.” She responds into your skin leaving a soft kiss there.

She then looks more directly at you with a shit eating grin “wanna know what else we can do tomorrow.”

“What?” You say groggily.

“Christen this place.”

“Ewww baby” you laugh hitting her with one of the pillows.

She smiles and cuddles back up to you “there’s no one else I’d rather start this chapter of life with I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[the-archangel]

Never Tear Us Apart

Part of the @cp77nyexchange for @elvenbeard, hope it's just what you always wanted!

There was a time not so long ago that just waking up with a roof over his head was enough for V, hell whether he’d wake up at all wasn’t something he took for granted. If he really tried, he could have imagined finding the Eddies to rent his own place again; as long as there was a bookshelf, a bed and a laptop he would be more than happy, but anything on top of that would have seemed a pipe dream.

Relationships were definitely off the cards too, the couple of times he’d dabbled in the fetid waters of the Night City dating pool he couldn’t swim away fast enough, there may be plenty of fish in the sea, but most of them were either sharks or blobfish.

As for work, much as he hated everything Arasaka stood for it was at least a steady job with regular pay and when it was over the choices were limited, since selling his ass on a street corner didn’t particularly appeal, he fell into the merc work and turned out to be pretty good at it. But the jobs and the training took over his life and for the kind of crappy gigs he was getting the pay was scop too, all he could see in his future was the same again, day after day, though on the upside mercs didn’t tend to live to be old and grey so it wouldn’t be his future for very long.

That’s why, every morning, rain or shine, good sleep or bad, V smiles. He’s got more than he ever imagined and although ‘stuff’ doesn’t make him happy, security and love definitely do and he has both of those in abundance.

Kerry never doubted that he’d be successful and wealthy, it took years of hard work and some shady decisions sure, but he knew he’d get there in the end. What he did doubt was that he’d ever find someone to share his life with.

At first, he just didn’t see the point, he fell in love every week, every day sometimes and would give the object of his affection every ounce of his being for the time they were together, until, like a magpie attracted by shiny things, he’d find a new obsession and move on without looking back. That lifestyle took it’s toll though, he was getting a reputation and making increasingly poor choices so he took himself out of the loop, went back home and returned some time later with a new mindset, he was ready to find ‘the one’. That was over forty years ago and much as he’d found several ‘definitely not the one’s’ in that time, it was only in the last few years that he could say he’d succeeded.

Right now, ‘the one’ was back home in Night City, Kerry had never wanted to go home as badly as he does right now, but there’s one more day and night of schmoozing and interviews to get through first and, since he’s in New York for the first time in forever, some Christmas shopping to catch up on.

-

“Hey,”

Kerry’s voice in V’s holo is heavy with sleep but still sexy as fuck.

“Hey back atcha, how’s it goin’?” V says brightly from his nest of pillows, Nibbles purring softly at his side.

“Shiiit, I’m sorry V, y’know I always forget about the time difference, I just…I just really missed your voice.”

“It’s fine,” chuckles the fixer, “been up for a while, emails to catch up on and stuff. Was going for a run but the weather’s stupid right now,” he turns around his optics to let Kerry see the view from their window. “Storm’s not even properly here yet and it’s already like Ragnarök out there.”

The storm had been working its way up the coast for days, Pacifica was getting the worst of it right now, so it was only a matter of hours before it hit Little China, the sky was already black, the dark clouds skittering madly ahead of the incoming wind.

Kerry’s perfect brows meet in concern, “You gonna be alright up there? Maybe you should go to the villa, might be safer.”

“Sure, a house on the top of a hill is way safer than a modern apartment block, I’ll be fine working from home and just using the gym downstairs. Don’t worry.”

Kerry still looks unsure, “Fine, just…just keep me updated. Be on my way back this time tomorrow, can’t wait.”

“Mhm, me either, we can order in some food and have a cosy movie afternoon.”

“Sounds preem, love you.”

“You too Ker, speak soon.”

The holo darkens and V’s voice fades, it’s been a long couple of days but thank fuck it’ll be over soon.

-

New York is bright, but cold. Wrapped up in his padded jacket and scarf, the world-famous Rockerboy is completely anonymous, not that anyone around here cares who he is anyway. It’s a relief to be able to walk the streets without being mobbed or molested, though he still has a security guard following at a discrete distance.

Kerry loves buying presents, he can happily spend days picking out the exact right thing and the recipient always reacts with surprised delight, all except V. V is horrible to buy for, he asks for nothing because he wants nothing, says he’s got everything he needs; Kerry sees it as a personal challenge to find him a gift that will blow him away. He’s pretty sure he’s aced it this year, just needs to pick it up.

-

V wasn’t telling Kerry the absolute truth, he really wasn’t planning on leaving the penthouse, but he wasn’t there working and he wasn’t alone. He slides out from under the sheets puts his sneakers back on and picks his coffee up from the side table with Nibbles following him back down the stairs into the living area.

Sitting on the bottom step sipping at his drink, V watches the chaos unfold around him. Dark greenery is being swathed and erected around the room, whilst purple and gold accessories adorn the foliage and surfaces. He moves to one side to allow a small, busy woman in a red pantsuit to wrap the banister rail in ivy and pine, several other similarly dressed workers are putting their designer touches to the trees and bookshelves.

With only a few days to go until Christmas, the weather had forced Kerry and V to change their plans and spend the holidays at home instead of at the mountain cabin, as long as they were together neither minded too much, but it did mean that all the decorations and food that had been delivered up there were now only for the benefit of the staff. Before Kerry left, they’d decided to have a quiet day and make up for it on New Year’s Eve, but V knew that Kerry loved Christmas and really loved the over-the-top flamboyance that was positively encouraged at this time of year, so he wasn’t going to let him down. It had been tricky to find someone to do it at such short notice, but the Eurodyne name – and its Eddies – open a lot of doors.

-

Kerry’s day was dragging, interview after interview asking the same questions over and over. He wasn’t much of a clock watcher, barely knew what day it was sometimes never mind what time, but today the clock in the corner of his Kiroshis is counting him down to when he can finally pack his bags and head home. His initial intent was to set off in the morning, but fuck that, he can sleep on the plane, so he has his manager book a flight a couple of hours after his last commitment, his fifteenth hosting spot on SNL, and uses the time between interviews to pack his bags.

Back home, V watches Kerry’s performance on the big screen, cheesy as some of it is, he still finds himself smiling proudly throughout, a small, unsure part of him still finding it hard to believe that the Rock God on TV is his mainline. He knows that every look into the camera and every cheeky smile is his alone, safely away from the ongoing storm, and with a snoring Nibbles on his lap, there’s only one thing that could make this evening cosier.

Even as the credits are rolling a call comes through on the holo, “Heeeey V, bags are in the car I’m on the way to the airport.”

“Thought you weren’t setting off until morning?”

“I just want to be home, with you Vince. Besides, I’ve got something for ya.”

V groans inwardly, Kerry knows he’s not good with receiving gifts but he tries just the same, “That’s great Ker,” he fibs, “I’ll see you in a few hours, be safe.”

“You know I will, love ya V.”

“You too ya gonk.”

-

There are some things that even money can’t fix, chief amongst these is the weather. For the third time it is painstakingly being explained to Kerry that there are no direct flights to the West coast tonight, none, nada.

Kerry stops his complaining for a moment to take in what the airport security was telling him, “No, direct flights, fine,” This is why he usually has ‘people’ to do this shit for him, “what about indirect ones?”

An hour later he finally makes a flight, not to NC but to what remains of some place called Bakersfield, then there would be a two-hour drive the rest of the way, could be worse so he tries to stay upbeat explaining the sitch to V.

“How long til you land?” asks V sleepily.

“Bout four hours I think, get some sleep baby, I’ll be there before you know it.”

If V was sleepy, then Kerry was positively exhausted, the long days, the time difference, the lateness of the hour all took their toll and Kerry is asleep in moments.

-

“I’m sorry to disturb you Mr Eurodyne, but we’re about to land.”

Kerry is woken from a deep sleep, momentarily confused and disoriented he soon turns it back on for the air steward, “Thanks doll, congrats on the uber-comfy seats.”

The pretty steward smiles broadly– she had a poster of him on her wall at home and was quite star-struck– and advises him to fasten his seatbelt.

-

Making his way through the airport animatedly ‘discussing’ with his manager over the holo how to progress with the rest of the journey, Kerry doesn’t notice he is being followed and so is not at all ready when a strong hand grabs his wrist and spins him around…

“Vince!” he cries, happily burying his face in the other man’s neck and enjoying the sensation of being held in warm, safe arms. “Not gonna pretend I’m not pleased to see you, but what you doing here, it’s the middle of the fucking night, at least I think it is, it’s pretty dark anyways.”

V chuckles into Kerry’s collar, he could be such a gonk sometimes, “Couldn’t leave you to drive all that way alone. You’ve crashed your car twice this year just going to the other side of North Oak, I’d never be able to sleep knowing you were driving all this way.”

Both men lean into the hug a moment longer, then make their way hand in hand to the car, oblivious to the fuss and photos going on around them. “You were right about one thing,” V tells his mainline, “it really is the middle of the night, gonna sleep for a week when we get back.”

“Gonna sleep for a week eventually,” corrects Kerry.

-

The storm has abated, the usually littered streets of Night City look cleared somewhat, though looking into the darker corners reveals detritus - both human and otherwise - better left unexplored. Kerry always feels a weight settling on him when he returns, it’s comforting in some ways and has lessened of late, but it’s a constant reminder that he is fragile and mortal and he hates it. He’d snoozed away the last couple of hours, but wakes to the sun just rising above the horizon illuminating the neon and dust with a yellowish hue.

“I love this time of day,“ V says softly, somehow aware that Kerry has awoken, “the City looking fresh and new, full of possibilities.”

“As long as its full of coffee and toast that’ll do for now,”

V smiles and rests his hand on his lover’s thigh, “I’ve got a surprise for you back at home.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kerry looks deep into V’s emerald-green eyes, “I thought you said you were tired,” he smirks.

“Not that kind of surprise, at least not yet, you’ll see.”

-

Elevator music has not improved over the last hundred years or so, V grins and Kerry groans as a tinkly, jolly version of ‘User Friendly’ floods the small compartment, thankfully the journey isn’t a particularly long one and the doors to the penthouse slide open silently. Kerry lifts his head from where it had been resting on V’s shoulder, the twinkling lights reflected in his sapphire eyes.

“Shiiit Vince, it’s beautiful. When did you have time to do all this?” he asks stepping into the suddenly unfamiliar living space with wonder.

“Um, I managed to persuade the company that does the set design for your shows to loan us some stuff, they came over and…”

The sentence is stolen away by a fierce kiss from the Rockerboy who now looks at his lover, tender hands framing his tired face, “I don’t deserve you, but I’m never fucking letting you go.”

Another kiss and V leads Kerry through the golden and purple lights to the promised coffee and toast.

-

“You know I said I got you something?” Asks Kerry, espresso in one hand and half-eaten raisin toast in the other.

“Mhm,” answers V through a mouthful of cereal.

“Well, um…” Kerry is rarely tongue-tied, but finds himself anxious now the moment has come. Although always appreciative, V has never been impressed by a gift that Kerry (or anyone) had given him, though this one would be tricky to hide in a cupboard or re-gift. “Gimme a minute.”

Rummaging around in one of the bags still dumped by the elevator door, Kerry pulls out a slightly crumpled old-school cardboard folder tied with a ribbon, whilst V tries to organise his face and thoughts into something that looks and sounds grateful for whatever this turns out to be.

“You could’ve just emailed whatever this is y’know.”

“It’s Christmas, I wanted something you could hold in your hands, but you don’t need to hold it like it’s gonna explode, go on baby, open it.”

V places the folder on the counter and pulls on the ribbon with Kerry nervously looking over his shoulder, a hand resting gently on V’s hip. He watches as V first looks at the photo before placing it to one side and reading the paperwork with a furrowed brow.

“Erik?”

“Yeah, I thought he’d be company for Nibbles, we’re kinda away a lot and she gets lonely. Thought it’d be fun for her – and us - to have a kitten around. Can’t pick him up for a few weeks yet though.” Kerry bites his lower lip and looks up at the ex-merc for a reaction.

“You got me a kitten, seriously?”

“Kinda,” Kerry’s arms fall to his sides and he walks away perching on the edge of the coffee table, no longer able to look V in the eye, “Keep reading…”

There’s silence as V works his way through all the sheets in the folder, Kerry quietly slips out onto the balcony for a smoke and soon strong arms wrap around him and he leans back into the hug with relief.

“You’re completely mad, you know that right?”

“It’s been said. Just thought, y’know, if we owned the cat sanctuary then we know they’ve got everything they need and that they’re being looked after properly, and as an added bonus you can go over and pet the inmates whenever you’re feeling stressed.”

V hugs his mainline a little tighter, kissing him behind the ear. “Plus, it’ll give you something to do when you’re too old and doddery to go on stage anymore.” he whispers.

A well-placed elbow to the ribs makes V gasp and then giggle, he takes Kerry’s hand and leads him towards the living area and huge projector screen for the promised movie afternoon, though not much of the film is actually watched; both are gently snoring in each other’s arms within moments.

[monsieur-neuvillette]

🖤( he already knows, he just wants the praise like the love sick puppy he is)

send 🖤 and my character will answer about yours.

“If you want praise you can simply ask, you know, my dear?” Neuvillette can’t hide his smile though, always happy to praise his fiance.

Attractiveness

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy guck there are no words.

“Saying even the stars pale in your beauty would be a horrible understatement my love, you are by far one of the most attractive humans I have seen in my life.”

Personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

“You have a delightfully charming personality that, I’ll be honest, when I first met you, it caught me quite off guard that you were like that, respectful, charming, but willing to stand your ground. I can’t help but admire you for it.”

Level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

“While I cannot list you off as my only friend, you are certainly a friend that I would lay down my life for if you asked, my heart, both emotionally and physically, are yours.”

First impressions:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

“I remember when I first met you as the duke, I questioned if it was the correct decision of Meropide to make you duke but I also remember receiving the letters about you from Sigewinne, how you had fought so hard to gain your place as the duke, I also couldn’t help but also be impressed with you.”

Current impressions:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh guck they’re hot / I love them.

“I am glad that you were able to make it to the title of duke, I am quite impressed by your dedication and hard work…,” Neuvillette scratched his neck, humming for a moment, “I am ever so honored to be able to call you my mate, my dear. I am also so glad to be able to spend the rest of your life with you.”

[navybrat817]

Hi Navy! Thank you very much for continuing to play with us and share content. Could I kindly ask you what about the following characters appealed to you so much that they became your favorites or your ones to really watch? What about them earned them a special place in your heart:

Jax teller // Bucky // Andy barber // destroyer Chris 

I'm happy you lovelies want to indulge with me, nonnie! ❤️ Some thoughts under the cut.

One of the reasons I love Jax is because he isn't perfect by any means and I appreciate that in a character. He could be cool and collected or angry and violent depending on the situation. He loved his family and tried to do better for the club. He was also unfaithful and did at least one unredeemable thing.

A tragic antihero who made both good and bad decisions, fanfiction can expand upon his character and give him a happy ending.

Bucky. I have so many things to say about this man. Especially depending on which version we speak of. The charming, brave Sergeant, the resilient man who went into hiding, the sassy and grumpy guy adjusting to modern times and dealing with his trauma. I wish some of the people behind the MCU would quit calling him a villain. The man was tortured and brainwashed by HYDRA. His freedom and choices were taken away from him.

And he still tries to make amends for things out of his control. He still goes into the fight even when he's tired. He puts a step forward and does his best to adapt to the world around him. He's a hero and I love him.

Besides being attracted to Andy's look, the family man with the hint of darkness beneath the surface wormed his way into my heart. Hardworking men who want to give the best to their family are sexy as hell to me. Also a reason I love Scott Huffman.

And Andy, with his flaws, wanted to protect what he had. Especially with his history, he wanted something good to hold onto. Watching it fall apart broke my heart. I'll happily step in to make it better. Make me a housewife.

Destroyer!Chris deserved so much better than what he got. He was a good man doing his job. I can't imagine the mental and physical toll of going undercover and taking on a whole new persona. And even being hesitant to participate in the event where it all went to hell, he did it because the woman he loved beg him to.

Loyal, loving, dangerously sexy, I want to fix his ending and give him the world.

*****

I want them all. Love and thanks. ❤️

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 2 - It’s Fun

House would never admit it, but he hated the way it’d all come out about Anna. He wanted to wait another few months before everyone found out that he actually liked this woman, but Cameron threw a spanner in the works. It started out as casual hanging out and moaning about patients. On occasion they would go and drink together at some bar or he would take her to place bets on dogs and horses and everything else they could bet on. She laughed and he found it difficult to refuse her anything when she did.

The first time he realised it might have been more was when she mentioned wanting to learn to play the piano, they’d had a couple of drinks and House called a cab to take them back to his so he could teach her a little. She was a surprisingly fast learner and she managed to learn a few songs in a matter of weeks, it wasn’t perfect, but every time she went back to try again, the better it was. He watched her slender fingers glide over each key and her small smile when she got it just right, soon he was able to play his guitar along with her and they were able to play together. The first time she got it perfect was when he realised he liked her.

House decided at that point to try and distance himself from her, but she didn’t seem to be affected by it, when he confronted her and apologised for his absence, she just shrugged and said it was fine if there was something he wanted to deal with on his own. She offered to be there for him if that was what he needed or they could go place some bets or drink at the bar if he needed a night to let loose a little.

Anna’s eyes dilated when they spoke, she enjoyed his company and after a night where he agreed to let loose, after they’d gone to the bar and gotten kicked out at closing time, once they were waiting for the cab to come, he said it simply and plainly and very drunkenly.

‘I want to have sex with you.’ He giggled, making her laugh even harder as well.

‘Oh really?’ She said, biting her lip.

‘You’re accent is sexy, your body is smoking and I think you would be very good at it.’ He almost lost his balance on the sidewalk, making her laugh again.

‘Oh my god, you okay?’ She said still laughing but reaching over to stop him hurting himself. ‘Look, I’m not denying anything, I am hot, I am smart and being English has its advantages, I get all the lads.’ She winked, as he leaned on the wall for balance. ‘If you promise not to be weird about it in the morning, I could totally tap that.’

House just laughed, he couldn’t believe his luck, she was hot and smart and sexy he believed every word of her drunken speech. He agreed to her terms and noted they’d both regret it in the morning.

‘That’s tomorrow’s problem.’ She waved his concern away. ‘So are you going to kiss me or what?’

He liked kissing her, she was soft and warm and hummed when he dragged his teeth over her lip, she had sensitive skin over her hips and lower back and he loved feeling how curved she was. The cab pulled up beside them and they went back to his where a slightly awkward encounter ensued. That was six months ago.

House knew he’d fallen in love, Anna was easy, she didn’t judge, she didn’t try to change him and she rarely ever asked for anything. When she did ask, he knew it was because it was bad. They’d shared things, he told her about Stacey and his leg, she told him about Afghanistan and how she was honourably discharged. She hated that she was constantly monitoring herself, but she was responsible and the second someone questioned her judgment on a patient she took a minute to review herself. Patients came first, that was her.

He told her about Cameron and she couldn’t offer much advice, said if he wasn’t ready to be open about the fact they were in a relationship then that was fine, but he needed Cameron back so he needed to figure it out on his own. She would back whatever decision he made.

They didn’t have sex sober for weeks in the beginning, they were treating each other like releases. Neither of them minded, in fact in some ways, he preferred the casual nature of their relationship, but six months on and one fake date with Cameron told him he wanted more than just casual. He just didn’t know how to approach the subject.

He went over to her apartment, hesitated for a few minutes before knocking on the door. She took a little longer than usual to answer and the second the door swung open he saw why. Anna had been crying.

‘You’ve never cried before.’ House blurted out. She frown and tilted her head, challenging him the way he liked.

‘You mean I’ve never cried in front of you before.’ Anna held the door open for him. House limped in, but didn’t head for the sofa like he usually did. He waited for her to close the door behind him. ‘Everything okay?’ She frowned, concern lacing her beautiful features.

‘Why would you ask me that?’ He felt his voice lower to a growl. Her red eyes dilated the way he knew they would the second he let his voice lower. It hadn’t quite been intentional but he was glad that it had happened. ‘You’ve been crying and you don’t do that for no reason, so obviously this is something truly upsetting, most likely a culmination of a few things that’s led to you cry so much that your eyes are now bloodshot…’ House trailed off realising that she was just waiting for him to get to the point. ‘You’re upset and you’re asking me if everything is okay.’

Anna sucked in a deep breath. ‘Well why wouldn’t I?’

‘If you needed someone to talk to you could’ve called.’ House shrugged.

Anna started laughing a little and headed for her kitchen. Her place was generally sparse, covered in books but that was about as far as she went with personal effects. Anna reached up to the top shelf to grab a whiskey bottle, he only seemed to noticed then that she was just wearing a T-shirt, one of his T-shirt’s to be precise, the hem raised above her toned legs and she looked incredibly beautiful.

She poured two glasses and handed him one. ‘Look, if you came here for sex I’m not in the mood, if you wanted something else, then-‘

‘I want you.’ House interrupted her, downing his whiskey. ‘I want you to call me when you need someone to talk to, I want you to rely on me when you need someone, I want… more.’ He felt reluctant to say it, regretted it when she said nothing.

Anna downed her whiskey and went to pour another. She wasn’t over pouring, she was just thinking. House placed his glass on the island next to hers.

‘I don’t think you want more with me.’ She said, quietly. ‘I’m not an easy person to be in a real relationship with.’

‘A real relationship?’

‘What we’ve been doing has been fun, so much so that I was going to suggest we stop.’

‘Wait, you like hanging out with me and your conclusion was that you wanted to stop? That doesn’t make any sense.’

‘I fell for you.’ Anna downed her whiskey again, but she didn’t refill this time. ‘We’ve been having a lot of fun and it’s been easy because there’s been no pressure. Spending the odd night together is fine, but what you’re asking is for something I don’t want to burden you with. I go whole nights without sleeping and some nights I can’t sleep unless it’s on the floor. I don’t always sleep in a bed. I have moments throughout the day where I think I’m back in the desert, just momentary flashes, nothing that would cost a patient, but I take that home with me. I sit on my sofa and I go over what happened over and over again until I can be sure that I can still do my job. You want me to bring that crap home to you? You’re already damaged, what good do you think I could do?’

House thought about it, she was right he knew she was, but it didn’t stop him wanting more.

‘If that’s what you want then I can’t stop you.’ He finished his whiskey. ‘But if you change your mind, I’d like to know.’

He wasn’t sure if it was right, but House left her apartment. He didn’t know if he could give her what she needed, he wanted to try, but he didn’t want to pressure her into anything. She meant too much to him to damage her any further.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!    

[ufo-hoe-alienqueen]

There was a time when I was in love with somebody and he got a job out of state, I had a decision to make if I should move with him or stay. At the time I was dealing with my own demons and couldn't be the girl he deserved or wanted me to be. Even if I wasn't in a bad place we just weren't right for each other so .....

If Only

Sometimes, I still think about you

I think about what could have been.

I think about what was, and what wasn't.

Sometimes,

I think I don't really know at all

What I ever wanted.

I just know that

you were one of the many things

I wanted, but couldn't have,

Then could have had, but didn't take.

Now every time I think about you,

I wonder if I did the right thing...

By chancing something great

For a moment of

memory.....

That was just a taste, for both of us

Of something that

will be so sweet... one day..when we find that right person.

I think about how I said i was sorry so many times,

And how the

words were echos of a voice you've grown to push out of your memory

Because

sorry doesn't mean anything when you've broken someone's heart.

I wish I could have let you see a glimpse of my feelings,

Even though they were somewhat twisted between fantasy and reality

And even though I ended up hurting you,

I wonder if I could have loved you,

I did in MY own way, even, if its possible to love someone when you don't even love yourself

But I thought I did love you, inside and out

And felt closer to you at one point in my life than i have to almost anyone.

I thought I could somehow bypass the girl YOU wanted to love and make you love ME

But it never quite happened that way.

I can't decide whether or not I regret ever having a relationship with you

Part of me wishes I had never met you

Maybe I could have saved us a lot of heartache.

Maybe I wouldn't have been just one more girl who hurt you

But another part of me is thankful that I got to have that time with such an amazing person

I know it was the wrong time.I know everything about it was wrong

Except the way you looked at me and how you told me i was beautiful and worth more than I knew.

That was sincere and honest and meaningful

And if for nothing else, I knew then that your heart must be as beautiful as the rest of you.

(You know your sexy as fuck!..lol)

I was too caught up in would-have-been's and what-if's and dealing with my own demons

There's a lot that's left unsaid of everything.

It wasn't really worth saying anymore.

It would have fallen on deaf ears, i'm sure.

But sometimes, I still wonder what it would have been like To wake up next to you everyday

Somewhere far from here

But here we are.

Strangers again.

You've gone your way, and I've gone mine.

I'm doing ok and i don't know how you are these days.

But, I think of you

When little things remind me

of you...us..

and I always think of

writing,

But what do you say to someone who's stopped listening?

I guess you don't.

So i dont.

I just think..

And hope that you're ok...

And that you're happy.

And that i hope you find someone to love you

The way i

could've-would've-should've

If only

[its-ashleyreads]

Finished: 25/01/2023

Silver Under Nightfall by Rin Chupeco

For Remy, who was accustomed to making bad decisions, it was an easy choice to make.

Rating: ★★★★★

Summary:

Resident outcast among the Reapers, the kingdom of Aluria’s order of rouge vampire hunters, Remy Pendergast has always worked alone. But when reports of a new, more terrifying breed of beast come to light he is unexpectedly accompanied in his search for answers by Xiaodan Song, heir to the throne of the fourth vampire court, and her fiancée, lord Zidan Malekh. Although fraternizing with vampires can only further harm his already abysmal reputation, Remy can’t help but find himself drawn to, not only Xiaodan, but Zidan as well.

Review:

After putting it on hold for 2022, my friend and I have finally resumed our book club with this stellar first pick! My friend was the one who suggested Silver Under Nightfall, and after seeing that it was already on my Storygraph TBR I okayed it without even reading the synopsis. I went into it completely blind, not knowing what to expect, and I was wowed. The plot on its own was captivating enough, but Remy and his vampire lovers were what really sealed the deal to make this a five-star read.

Remy’s slow discovery of his own desire and sexuality after being, essentially forced, into prostituting himself to noble women as a teenager, was equal parts heartbreaking and heartwarming. Heartbreaking, because he never even questioned what he’d gone through until someone else pointed out the unsavoriness of adult women preying on a teenage boy who wasn’t in a position to say “no.” Heartwarming, because getting to see a victim of sexual abuse find people who truly love and accept him and want what is best for him is always a win. And Xiaodan and Zidan both loved Remy so much it hurt. The relationship between Xiaodan and Zidan was such a healthy building block for their relationship to further branch out and include Remy, and the way that they both trusted and respected each other was sexy as hell. They consistently prioritized their partners physical and emotional well-beings in everything they did and if they ever messed up or hurt them, their apologies were always swift and sincere. Remy’s addition to their dynamic was both awkward and refreshing as the three of them learned how to be three. Remy wasn’t the only one trying to find his place in their throuple, and I liked how Xiaodan brought up how Zidan was acting with Remy how he used to act with her when they first got together. It made it feel less like Remy was an add on to Xiaodan and Zidan’s relationship and more like their relationship as a throuple was a new beginning for all of them. Less like Remy had to adapt to the already established couple, and more like they were all adapting together in this new type of relationship dynamic.

My only “issue” would be that because so much time was spent on either the polycule or the plot, the imagery of the world itself suffered a bit. I never had too clear a picture in my head of most of the landscapes or characters and oftentimes, would have to stop reading so that I could try to get a better understanding of where things/characters were in a scene or what kind of environment they were in. It didn’t hamper my enjoyment of the book much, I’m definitely a bigger fan of interesting, complex characters than I am of overly descriptive writing, but I do wish that there had just been a bit more attention paid to the descriptions of the world itself.

I am so excited for the next book in this series that I almost wish I had waited to read it until the release date for #2 had been set so I had an actual date to look forward to! But, at least reading it as early as I did means that I get to have these characters in my life for just that little bit longer.

[besidesitstoowarm]

series 2 retrospective

this season felt like it lasted FOREVER. i think a lot of that was down to how much more slowly i got through the episodes (this season had a lot of baggage for me that i think i've now shed, so i was kind of dreading all of them) but the other part is the lack of real stand-out phenomenal episodes, i think. i don't count the finale, bc finales always have a ton going on and iirc they're all somewhere between great and mindblowingly excellent. i guess my fave this season would've been "the impossible planet" with maybe "new earth" as a second? "school reunion" gets huge nostalgia points for me, which is quite the feat bc i haven't even seen the era it's nostalgic for. this has the weakest of moffat's rtd-era eps and i don't think any of the episodes just slam my ass into next week in the same way as like, "dalek" or "utopia"

but my memory had been very unkind to this season and i am brave enough, and sexy and genius enough, to admit my wrongness. it's honestly really powerful of me. anyway i do think this season carried on and expanded upon some of the themes of last season, namely sympathizing w mickey, the doctor's savior complex, and the near-suicidal devotion that rose has to traveling with the doctor. all three were handled well, including the doctor taking his protective shit too far; nine would tell rose to sit the hell down and stay put, but ten was willing to BANISH HER TO AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE just bc HE decided she would be better off there. he will learn nothing from this, and make the same type of decision for donna

idk if this makes sense, but ten is the "main character" in the way that nine wasn't in s1? nine kept himself deliberately closed off, he did not want his pain and his feelings to be centered in the way that loud, boisterous ten edges his way into every conversation. nine went places and saw things and saved the day, sure, but was also willing to leave or sit this one out or stay out of things, which makes sense as a recent genocide survivor/perpetrator. he doesn't want to be the center of attention, he just shows up and crazy goes down around him (and his companions do whatever). that feels a little closer to early classic who, to me. the show lives and dies by the quality of its companions. ten (who is heavily influenced by rose) wants to be The Hero. he wants to Save The Day

i am sticking by my theory that ten was crafted and molded by the mingled energy of rose and the tardis as bad wolf, and so he's like. well he's basically what donna becomes at the end of s4, this time lord human hybrid thing. i maintain this bc it makes sense both plot-wise and thematically and it's romantic in a cannibalistic way which appeals to me (two different ways to be "inside" someone). so in that sense, ten isn't just a response to having been nine (having "survived" being nine) but he's also absorbed rose's outsized opinions of him. he was born from her love and devotion for him, and his regeneration took place under her care, under her belief that "the doctor is special and important and nothing is allowed to happen to him" and wow it gave him an ego! it also gave him a pathologic need to Save The Day. i can't wait to see what happens to him when he is with any other companion

and so we say goodbye to rose. she was the perfect companion to restart the show with, very likeable, very bubbly, very curious. she was opinionated and saucy and empathetic, and she had fantastic chemistry with both doctors, which is hard to pull off for such different actors. i don't really have a lot to say that i didn't already say in my various individual episode write-ups, but i will miss rose, and i look forward to her various returns

[esha-isboogara]

𝓑𝓮𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 ♡

AHHHH !!! he is the subject of all my horny thots recently

andrew!peter x afab reader

peter doesn’t like to be teased

☆ LETS GO MINORS-THERES THE DOOR!! , porn what plot, lots of dirty talk, foreplay, female pronoun’s uses

You could feel your knees grow weak as he stared down at you , his chocolate colored eyes darkened by lust.

“You’re such a fucking tease y/n” Peter growled as he stepped closer to you. At this point you could feel your back against the wall.

You were cornered.

“I..Im sorry i promise it won’t happen again “

He wrapped his large hand around my neck.

“Oh nooo , youre not getting out of this easily. Tonight I’m in control. You do what I say and nothing more, think you can do that”?

You nodded slowly,avoiding looking at his face knowing damn well you’d crumble if you met his face for too long.

“There you go, good girl...now listen carefully” he growled as he used his other hand to run his hand over both your breasts and down your stomach stopping at the button of your jeans. “you’re gonna be on your absolute best behavior for me tonight got it ? If you can pull that off I’ll consider going easier on you”.

Despite the harsh words he still wore a warm smile. You knew if you really didn’t want to go through with this he’d honor your decision.

You nodded again “I understand daddy”. By this point the pool in your panties had soaked through ,you knew you werent going to be able to take everything you were about to be given and you loved it.

Without any sort of warning he shoved you down on the sofa , still hovering above you. The tent in his jeans was becoming more obvious by the second. It was so hard to tear your eyes away from it.

“God..you look so damn sexy when you’re submissive” he mumbled ,getting closer to you and leaning down to reach his hand down your pants.

“Oh? You’re so wet already ? What more would i expect from my little whore” Peter whispered ,rubbing your clit through your panties. You could feel his warm breath against my neck as he placed small kisses on my sweet spots.

The sudden rush of feeling caused you to let out a small moan. His hand flew up to cover your mouth. Carefully he removed my jeans so i was left in nothing more than a large t-shirt and my underwear.

“Shhh i don’t want you to make any noise. Be a good girl and stay quiet for daddy” He shushed , as he continued his movements. His cold hands felt amazing against the soft fabric.

You wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your bare skin. Using the pad of his thumb he rubbed agonizingly slow circles on your clit , using his pointer to trace your hole. By now you were clenching around nothing

“I can’t wait to destroy your tight little pussy ... i know you want my dick to stretch you out and rearrange those guts”

A tight knot was forming in your core. Biting your lip you tried your best to keep quiet. Your breath became labored as he sped up.

Parting my lips against his palm,a whine escaped your lips. It only took a few more movements of his fingers before the knot in your stomach broke. Like a wave your orgasm hit.

As soon as the noise escapes your mouth he stops and he looks you straight in the eye,leaning up.

“What a shock. Little Y/n can’t stop herself from cumming on my fingers.“ he chided, cupping my face in his hand forcing my head up so i could look him in the eye.

“I bet that felt good didn’t it ? My fingers inside you? You just can’t help yourself can you”?

“N..No...I’m sorry Peter”

Your answer only made him grip your face harder. “I hate to break it to you doll but you can’t

I shook my head , trying to speak but he was squeezing my cheeks too hard.

“Bad little girls get punished” he said bluntly,pulling you up and laying me across his lap.

“What are you gonna do to me“? I asked , not ready for a spanking.

“You’ll see” he answered ripping my panties off of my body. A shiver ran through my body as he did so.

[randombush3]

Bad Habit.

florence pugh x reader

summary: words that should’ve been said never were.

words: 4209

warnings: drinking, suicidal themes, major breakdown, disturbing topics

notes: OKAY. it was originally supposed to follow the song, but now it doesn’t. look out for the lyrics though. also this got really out of hand imo, it’s one of those fics where i never actually saw the end when i began it and therefore takes lots of twists and turns and may not make sense. you might have read it like twenty times. who knows!

based on steve lacy’s song Bad Habit

p.s. fuck tumblr’s editing interface.

“That will be my cab, Flo.” You swirl the dregs of your whiskey, noticing that though the bar is cold, the ice has melted. Have you really been here this long? You would never have realised if you hadn’t remembered to order a ride to the airport while washing your hands twenty minutes ago. Time is irrelevant with her.

She places a hand on your arm, wishing you’d meld together and stay forever. In this bar, forever. In her life, forever. If she were to truly believe that she’d be naive and stupid. You met filming, and, yeah, maybe you did become friendly but you’re always going to view her as a work friend; nothing more, nothing less. “Okay,” she says, voice deep and low and undeniably sexy to have directed at you. It isn’t fair. “This is it, right?”

You smile, lips pressed together and hiding the slight ache of your heart. “Right.” Work friend. Your characters were dating, not you two. You tilt your glass, toasting with what’s left of your diluted drink, “until we meet again.”

She laughs, but it rings out more melancholic than intended, hanging heavy in the air between two people who will most likely not end the night the way they’d both like to.

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Until we meet again.”

Standing up to see you out, Flo envies the bartender because the smile you give him is more genuine than any you’ve given her. “Thank you,” you tell him. He fights a blush, finds your softness beautiful, charming. Flo would better describe you as the magnet that attracts every ounce of adoration in her body and takes it unknowingly and unwillingly. “Have a nice evening.”

“You too,” he replies, seemingly ignoring the five other customers — all old men with cash only and wives on the brink of divorcing them. Florence thinks he is about to hop over the green leather of the bartop and kiss you, because he certainly looks as if he will, but you’re lacing your fingers with hers and taking her with you outside before he can move an inch.

She feels special in that moment. More than she has ever felt.

“How come you’ve dragged me into the freezing air of wintertime Helsinki at one in the morning?” You giggle, pure tipsiness making your decisions for you. The woman in front of you recognises the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other, leaving her hand dead by her side in order to wrap your arms around your front. “I’m going to miss watching an underdressed Y/n L/n die a long, cold death while begging me for my jacket.”

“I haven’t asked for it yet.” She grins, taking it off anyway. “And I don’t want to take it, because I’m going to stop by my friend’s to grab my suitcases and then I’m off. Back home until the next adventure.” This jacket is old, it must be from skiing a few years ago, but her body has warmed it and it’s cosily swallowing you whole.

“Or the next torture. At least being forced to be near me is coming to an end,” she jokes, self-deprecating. You hate it when she says things like that, mainly because you’d watch her in awe whether she delivered an Oscar-worthy monologue or figured out a simple maths equation. Either would be something you’re convinced you’d never do, anyway. Wrapping the movie hit you both like a brick, because the sudden realisation that, if neither of you had the balls to say something tonight, nothing would ever come of the three months you spent frolicking in the snow, pretending to be in love with someone who made you feel an affection you were supposed to not feel in real life, pinches your cheeks and reddens them. Flo chalks it up to the snowflakes falling on your eyelashes, your collarbones, touching parts of you she can only dream about.

“No, c’mon. Nothing’s ever torture with you. I’ll love this film even if it turns out to be a disaster because we made it together and I could never hate something you put your heart and soul into.” You’re essentially saying you’d like to kiss her and fuck her and preferably marry her, but Florence has failed every subtext social test ever presented to her. It’s brave of you to reach out and grab her hand again once you’ve said that. She’s blushing and not hiding it, your heart is pounding. If you could visit the Wizard of Oz, you’d beg for courage and step closer, tell her how you really feel. “I—”

Whatever magical emotion revealed itself to you is instantly scared off by the harsh beeping of a fat old man’s horn. “Are you getting in?” The taxi driver rolls his window down, face sour and bored and sick of stupid people having stupid rom-com moments. “I’m allowed to leave if you’re not going to.”

After a pause, you let go of her hand. Of her. “Okay. Goodbye. Good luck for Oppenheimer, yeah? I’ll see you when I see you.” If Flo’s voice hadn’t slipped out of her and ran away to the circus, she’d have stopped you in your tracks and told you that goodbyes needn’t be said so soon because she’s convinced that she loves you (and she’s right to believe so).

She should kiss you: it’s her final chance and chances shouldn’t be wasted on people who are too scared to say something in case the other doesn’t feel the same. You wish you knew if she felt the same, but you haven’t got time to rebuild your earlier fortitude as the driver is threatening to creep away by slowly leaving the side of the pavement. She waves goodbye awkwardly, trying to seem funny at the very least, and turns her back once you’ve surpassed the ten metre mark.

Not kissing you has to be the biggest mistake she has ever made.

You’re at the airport, sitting in the business lounge alone because you can’t cry in front of all those people. The waitress asks if you’d like anything to drink, nervous, not wanting to startle her client. “Do you have whiskey?” You decided that the tears need wiping if you are to carry on with your life like she never happened.

Once you are comfortably in the air, the plane’s window becomes more interesting than any of the movies offered in Finnair’s business class. While it proves as little distraction from the events of seven hours ago, you ask yourself two million questions, most of them beginning with ‘why didn’t you’ and ending with internal outbursts of frustration. Being alone, your head quite literally in the clouds, is what you need to recover from three months of nights where neither of you wanted to go back to their own bed. Three months of giggling endlessly though the director has reminded you how easily replaced you are. Three months down the drain.

God, you miss her, but you’ll have to go on missing her. You’ve kid yourself she could ever reciprocate selfish desires.

—-

Seven months later, you feel as if you’ve only just landed from your flight home. (Not that LA is quite your home.) Summer is supposedly fun, or it appears so on your Instagram that is monitored closely by an old costar. While your mind can, at times, be distracted for a day or so, hers is constantly split in two. Like every other thing in her life is fighting for her attention but being battered down by the thought of a lost girl in a jacket that swallows her, waiting for words that will never come.

Occasionally, under the influence of too much tequila, you text her, shit like what you ate for dinner, how your parents’ dog is doing. Empty words from an empty brain. She ignores them because it doesn’t sound like you, not because she wants to (she would like to screenshot each one, frame it, and worship her shrine for the rest of her life, but that’s deranged — you make her feel deranged). Though most of your friends think you’re overreacting to delete her contact and unfollow her on everything, it’s somewhat therapeutic to return her radio silence. If the mighty Florence Pugh won’t give you time of day, why should you remain?

“I’m not doing it,” you tell them — your friends — when she’s brought up. “I’m not going to wait for someone I’m not good enough for. Why can’t that be okay?” Secretly, you fall asleep every night lost in a tornado of moments that could have been; everything that could have happened but didn’t still happens in your mind, filling in gaps where the cupping of your cheek led to kissing you, where the parts left unsaid were spoken and heard and listened to. Listened to by the right person, not a friend, not an unbothered sibling, not a stranger sitting next to you at the dentist with too much time before their appointment. Sometimes the tornado begins to materialise and you spend the night with trapped sobs finally tasting the air beyond your lungs. As the sobs rise up in your throat, you can feel the snow land on your nose, the bleak taste of Helsinki resting on the tip of your tongue, nothing but a vivid memory that disappears when you gasp to check if you’re really there. You never are. You seem to snap in half every time.

Every fucking time.

“It’s just press.” Your publicist doesn’t accept your statement as smoothly. “If you don’t do it, you’ll be blacklisted and I’ll be underpaid. You’re an actress, Y/n. Act.”

She keeps three books on her desk, each the size and shape of one Hunger Games book. You’ve always wanted to ask what they mean to her; does she thumb through them between meetings? “I want to hit you very hard with the largest of your Hunger Games books. The second one, right?” She nods. “Yeah. I’d use the second book.” Under her desk, she has her palm flat against the wood, searching for the emergency button desks in movies have. She’s never had to even think about using it before. “I’m not going to, of course. That would be preposterous.” You get up, smiling at her. “I’m not going to do that, just like I’m not going to do that stupid press tour, understand? Because if I do that press tour, hitting you with a book won’t seem ridiculous to me. She will drive me insane. She already is.”

Reluctantly, the executives allow you to skip the cast briefings on the basis that you do more interviews than you’d initially agreed to, overlooking the breach of contract. Considering Florence and you were in love for the whole movie, the original interview schedule had twenty interviews with her and your other cast members and four with her alone. Now you have fourteen with the woman your publicist went back to counselling for.

You realise you’ve been massively fucked over, because not only are you doing the press tour, you are doing majority of it with Flo.

“I’m going to slit my wrists in the bathtub if one more Marvel actor tries to talk to me.” Your friends have started to look increasingly more alarmed every time you open your mouth, but it’s their fault that they got you drunk. “Do you know that they’re like some,” you spill your beer from your gestures, “cult? If you hurt one of them, you hurt them all. I didn’t even fucking hurt one of them. I fucking… fucking loved one of them. Fuck, I love her now. You know? Love? Fuck that.”

A particularly kind-hearted member of your friend group removes your drink from your hand and pats your shoulder. But you continue, unwillingly to hold it in any longer. “I have a confession,” you slur, eyelids closing heavily before you force them open again. “I have a… I have a confession to make to you all.” The group are drunk, some as far gone as you. You’re not the favourite member, not the one everything is planned around. They’re your friends from an early movie you once played a supporting role in. Most of them are jealous of your success, most want to leech off it. All of them are tired of your bullshit. “I’m kinda mad I didn’t take a stab at it. We’d have had great sex.”

- - -

She wakes up alone again.

She’s not used to that just yet.

Not physically.

Going back to a man she once thought she loved was comforting for a while. A good six months. It was a good, long slap in the face too, like being in a car crash with your favourite person in the world; she was reminded that she didn’t say anything every time he kissed her, attempting to kiss the hesitation out of his girlfriend, and felt like the crash was beginning to drag. Sparingly, she waited for him to state the obvious (“this isn’t working out”), collect his shit, and leave.

And so, one month later, she still pats the unused side of her double bed to check if it’s cold. It’s not that she misses him. Florence Pugh dreams about being with you every time her eyes close, and has done so for ten months. From the minute she met you.

“Mama has interviews today,” she tells her Billie. She seems to be the only proper listener nowadays. Humans can talk back, voice their unwanted opinion, and recommend therapists who really helped them. Dogs can’t. “They’ve told me I’m with Y/n for one of them. Do you think she’s changed?”

If dogs could text, Flo would’ve texted Billie to say you haven’t. You look sadder, but so does she, and you look ever so slightly older. Your eyes don’t light up quite the way they used to.

Flo moves her hand away from yours when you get too close to her on the sofa they’ve had you sit on. You didn’t mean to inch towards the ruffles of her dress but if your home is sixty centimetres away, you wouldn’t run in the opposite direction. (You did once, remember how that made you feel?) “Our characters are beautifully in love,” you answer, smiling at the interviewer behind exhausted eyes. “The kind that is excruciatingly wonderful to witness, and even better to create. Falling in love with Florence was the best thing I have ever had to do.”

She wishes you meant it.

“Have you ever been in love like your characters? Was there something real woven into your portrayal?” For a moment, you think she’s caught onto the fact you did actually fall in love with Flo. It takes a second for your mind to repeat her words in different tones, deciphering what she meant by ‘something real’.

You pause. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

“I think that, in every movie ever created, there is a piece of reality, a base to build on, because stories are a way to explore what didn’t happen. For me, the love we filmed came before my experience of it. There’s something real in there, but it was the kind of seed that only gets planted in a script and made into a blockbuster. The way I love her is unrealistic.” The interviewer nods, smiling at the material you’ve given them. That’s the perfect quote for the headline.

It breaks Flo in a way that no one can describe.

“Unrealistic?” she quietly repeats once the interview is finished. It’s the last of the day. “Who?” You stay silent, though in your head you’ve professed your undying love to her five times over. “You weren’t with anyone when we filmed.”

You’re called away — thank god — because your car is here.

Flo wonders who stole your affection from beneath her feet, pulling out the rug and letting her fall on harsh reality. She decides she hates that person wholeheartedly. Maybe she even loathes them — they’ve taken her world from her.

“It was okay, I promise,” she later says to her stylist, Rebecca. Press junkets for Rebecca are like advent calendars for Flo. She is a stylist, and so Flo doesn’t blame her excitement, having become used to it over the last few years. Rebecca’s mission is to make Flo look irresistible to you (set by Flo’s unspoken desire that floats around the very much spoken angst-filled pining). “Apparently she was in love with someone, but it was ‘unrealistic’. She phrases things so…”

“Cryptically,” Rebecca offers, mundanely recycling that word from the last time her client (and friend) brought this up. “Ever thought it was you she meant?”

Jerking upright at the thought, Flo shakes her head; “there’s no way. Y/n doesn’t beat around the bush. She would’ve made a move ten months ago!”

“I think she was talking about you, maybe she was trying to tell you how she felt.”

“It doesn’t matter. It has to be too late to pursue her.”

You wouldn’t care if Flo and you started dating in fifty years. It would just be another fifty years of feeling lost in an expansive desert where love is like water.

“Why don’t you respond to the many willing women then? Just for sex. I’m sure they wouldn’t care.” Your friends don’t quite understand that you can’t do anything with anyone who isn’t her. You’d say her name, think of her face, her hair.

“Did you know she cut her hair?” You like it. She once told you that she’d chop it off after filming ended, and that she’d like you to cut it for her because she’s sure you’re a talented hairdresser. “She has that septum piercing you told me about, and she has a new tattoo. She’s changed so much since last year, and I feel like I’ve been frozen in time instead. That’s not fair… I feel like that’s not fair. That she gets to be so…” You recount previous conversations, “you guys think she loved me, don’t you? I think that, if she did love me — which she didn’t — then she’d have said something. She’s honest and blunt and not the kind of person to harbour feelings for someone and do nothing about them. Especially when it comes to love.”

“Y/n, you always act like you have one chance to do something.” Trying again and again doesn’t work for someone who exclusively does things she’s good at, and loses her passion at most setbacks. Resilience never seemed to find you when you were in need of it the most.

“I feel like, my whole life, I’ve been missing the boat,” you concede.

“Just get the next one.”

- - -

Like you warned your publicist, you are losing it. Things don’t seem to matter as much anymore, and if they do it’s because it has to do with her. Brushing your teeth is easier, actually, because what if she got close enough to smell your breath?

You feel taller, shorter, wider, narrower. You’re being stretched in every direction at every moment of the day, only contracting to your most painless self when Flo is beside you on a chair or a sofa, hand close to yours but not enough to touch it.

Most wonder if you actually eat, having not seen you holding any form of edible object during the whole three weeks. You can’t eat, you can’t sleep. At night you forgo convincing yourself to wait for a break that will never come, so you spend them staring at a working TV, not interested enough to turn it on.

By the time your last interview is finished, you haven’t slept in four days. Everyone is worried.

Flo corners you when you stumble away. She forgets her anxieties, her doubts, she doesn’t care if you hate her. “You’re not going back somewhere where you are alone.” She leaves you no other option, grabbing your wrist, pulling you to her car. You’d fight back if you weren’t feeling like every breath is your last. It feels nice to be defeated.

She drives you to a house you’ve never been to, telling you to get out of the car. Her fingers fumble for the keys in her pocket as she unlocks the door, pressing her hand on your back to get you inside.

“You’re a mess,” she murmurs, guiding you to her kitchen, sitting you down on one of the cream leather stools tucked under her island. You smile.

“I’ve been worse.”

She hates the way you say it. As if she doesn’t care about you. As if you think she despises you.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” You shrug. “I’m making you food.” She fills a glass with water from the filter in the fridge, placing it in front of you. A drop spills over the edge, rolls down towards the granite surface. You swipe your finger against the glass’s edge before the drop can touch it, drying it off on the fabric of your unreasonably expensive Versace suit. It fits looser than when you tried it on, but your stylist doesn’t like you enough to care.

The clang of her pans mocks the silence between the two of you. Her kitchen communicates more than you can, and it’s only when the smell of something good seeps through your barriers of believing you aren’t in need of sustenance that you speak again.

“I love you.”

Flo glances at you, breaking her concentration. “What?”

You rock back on the stool, enjoying the thrill of almost falling over but never quite hitting the floor. “I know you heard what I said. I love you.”

“No,” she mutters. “No, you don’t.” You scoff and she looks alarmed. Upset.

“I may not be in the best state of mind, Flo, but I’m pretty certain that I love you,” you tell her again, nodding your head. “I can even tell you the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

She fights back tears, because this is not how any of it was supposed to be. “You haven’t slept. You haven’t eaten. You don’t talk to people — you don’t talk to your friends. You have no right to sit there and tell me you love me when I know you don’t mean it. It’s mean.”

“I’m not being mean.” Your defence is penetrated by her eyes: mistrustful. She doesn’t trust you anymore, she doesn’t know what to believe and what to blame on your current insanity. “I’m telling you the truth, because I thought you would want to hear it. I thought you’d listen.” You stop before you tell her she is just like everyone else.

“That’s unfair.” You drink the water. “I’m not going to let you manipulate me like you’ve manipulated everyone else.”

“Why?” you ask, curious. “Do you think you’re different? You’ve rejected the idea that I am able to love you, clearly. That puts you on the same level as the rest of them, doesn’t it?”

To be honest, you weren’t expecting her to take you with her, after all that wasn’t said or done. When you said it, you didn’t want her to necessarily push you against the worktop and kiss you hard, but you’d assumed she would at least believe you. You’d rather shock her than make her sad.

But you’re making her cry.

You hate watching her cry. You want to swipe away the tears just as you cleared the droplet from the glass of water, but you find yourself stuck to the cream leather stool, only able to watch her. She wipes her face with the back of her palm, knuckles running over her soft skin, reddening it.

“You can’t love me, because I love you, and we’d destroy each other. It’s already destroying you.”

“Not being with you is destroying me.”

“I heard what you said to the woman who does your makeup. I’m destroying you, Y/n. This,” she gestures between you and her, voice breaking, “is destroying you.”

You shake your head. “I think about you all the time. I live for you,” you state firmly, standing up. As you move towards her she backs away. “Don’t you get it? You are my everything.”

Flo can’t be your everything, because she is one person and you need at least four. She knows you better than you think, she knows that you’re an addict, that you don’t like living with the feeling of not having anything. If you weren’t addicted to her, it would be alcohol or drugs or a simple thing like crocheting. You chase that intensity, bleeding it dry until it can give you nothing more.

“I don’t want to be your everything, Y/n.” It’s a lie. You can hear her regret, it drips off her words. “The food is ready. Eat it, and then leave.” She almost smashes the plate, but holds her anger in until she leaves the room.

Your, “I’m sorry. Wait a second,” gets stuck at the roof of your mouth, refusing to come down its hiding place. You find other words to say, but you don’t say them.

You bite your tongue, it’s your worst habit.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridlz @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @sophie-xox @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz