#ches peaks

[riiov]

GREASE

[xinyuehui]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ Where Drakeshadows Fall ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[manaosdeuwu]

que divertido que era dibujar el culo de bokuto en los bancos del colegio y borrarlo lo más rápido posible para que no haya aún más pruebas de que era un otaku de mierda

[deathshallbenomore]

il fatto che esista una midsomer murders society (che ha eventi programmati sino al 2025) è la cosa più meta che potesse succedere. io dico che a un certo punto dovrebbero iniziare a uccidersi tra di loro affinché sia possibile realizzare un episodio speciale dedicato

[fictionalwench]

Want

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: smut, age gap, size kink slightly, praise, foul language, Jim being fucking oblivious.

Hoppers old.

Or getting there at least.

And he knows it.

   But somehow you're still here in his bed, your youthful cheek squished against his chest, your arm thrown around his middle that he knows isn't as toned as it used to be. 'A Dad bod,' you'd called it. Said it was hot. He'd just rolled his eyes, giving your ass a playful swat.

   You'd met when you began secretary work at the police station. It was a long, pining heavy minute before he ever approached you romantically. You'd flirted with him, or tried, but he couldn't possibly fathom someone as young and vibrant as you wanting him. He'd tried to avoid you, despite working so closely together. That all changed one night when he had to stay late to do paperwork, and you'd volunteered to stay behind to help. He'd tried insisting you go home, telling you he'd take care of it, saying you should get some rest. But you'd stayed, helpfully pointing out that it'd go twice as fast with 2 people.

   So there he was, 1am with the prettiest girl to give him any attention in a long time, your thigh bumping his under the table. He crosses his legs. Partially to put space between the two of you, partially to hide the growing tent at the front of his pants.

The view you'd given him wasn't helping. The white button down you wore was slightly undone at top, unbuttoned in you're frustration, allowing him a view of your breasts swelling past the top of your bra everytime you bent to retrieve your dropped pen.

   You're barely through half the stack of reports and files when you suddenly stand and lean across him, your hair in his face, your chest brushing his arm.

   'Sorry Cheif, just looking for the notes that go with this case,' you explained, flipping through the stack. He let out an involuntary groan, the scent of your shampoo flooding his senses, his cock straining painfully against his pants. If you heard, you never let on, finding the folder you were looking for and sitting back down. Looking back now, the memory makes him chuckle, wondering how he'd been so oblivious to your advances.

   'I'm gonna..ima run to my office quick,' he said, standing and turning quickly, 'left some notes somewhere in my desk. Might be a minute.'

   'O-oh! Take your time!' You told him, but you looked-and it had to be his mind playing tricks on him-disappointed? He shook his head as he hurried off to his office, quickly shutting the door behind him, fumbling with his belt, desperate for some relief from the pressure. He fell back into his chair, giving his throbbing cock a couple long pumps.

   'Fuuuck,' he breathed, precum leaking out of the angry red tip and onto his fingers. He used it to glide his hand over himself with ease, moaning as he imagined it was your spit, your pretty lips wrapped around him, bobbing your head up and down, those big innocent eyes staring into his. Your name tumbles from his mouth, sweet on his tongue.

   Just as he felt his release rising in him, there was a knock on the door.

His door.

That he forgot to lock.

    There was no time to stuff himself back into his pants before you're opening the door and peaking your head in, so he just spun his chair to face front, hiding his lap under his desk.

   'Hop? Everything good? You find those papers?' You asked, knitting your eyebrows together, making him want to kiss the bump that formed between them.

   'Oh, yea, no, sorry,' he said a little too quickly, 'I uh, I think Flow might have had them last, but she keeps her desk locked at night. No big deal.' He shrugged, wishing you'd take his explanation and leave. He was still exposed under his desk, twitching, his release still sitting on the brink.

   Instead of leaving, you stride into the room, shutting the door behind you, 'maybe they're still in here. Here, lemme che-,' you'd walked around the edge of his desk and he'd nearly jumped to stop you.

   'No! That's REALLY ok, it doesn't matt-,' he didn't speak quickly enough, watching in horror as you shut the drawer open next him, finally exposing his dirty secret to yourself. He braced himself, ready for you to scream, ready for you to call him a dirty old man, a pig, ready for the profanities to spill like venom from the mouth he'd wished so many times to kiss.

   But it never came. You just stood there, your mouth open in a small O shape, your clear and intelligent eyes wide.

   'I'm so sorry,' he breathed, and moved to pull his pants back up, his face cherry red, 'God, I'm sorry, please-' you stopped him in his tracks, resting your small, soft hand on one of his large calloused ones. You bit your lip and looked up through your lashes at him, and he swears he's never wanted anyone or anything like he did in that moment.

   'I thought- thought you-,' you spoke softly, fumbling over your words, and then you whispered 'I thought you didn't want me.'

   He pulled you forward by your waist at this, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing out shakily, 'you have no idea how long I've wanted...' He trailed off, brushing his hands lightly over both sides of your face, like you're delicate and precious, like he could break you if he touched you too hard.

He wanted to break you.

   'Can- can I?' He looked at your lips as he asked his half question. He didn't need to finish. You knew what he meant because you wanted the same thing. You nodded slowly and bit your lip again. He threw  his head back and whispered a curse under his breath, and sighed, 'let me do that for you.'

   He kissed you softly at first, his pointer finger and thumb tilting your head by your chin. And then he got hungrier, greedier. He kissed you like you were fresh air and he was a man drowning, his fingers digging so hard into your sides that you could imagine his fingerprints bruising onto your skin, his teeth nipping the soft flesh. He kissed down your jaw and neck, his stubble scratching and tickling your skin in just the right way, and you moaned, digging your nails into his back. He pulled you down onto his thigh, one leg on each side of his, the pressure and friction on your clit making you dizzy.

   'So damn beautiful,' he said it against your skin, like it pained him, and it did. In his mind, this was a fluke. There was no way you'd want him more than once. Sex with an older man, that's all it was. Just a taboo to you.

   So when you ran your hands down his chest and sang his praises, he thought he was going to melt right then and there.

   He put his hands on your hips and began guiding you on his thigh, relishing the way your eyes flit back into your head. 'Yeah sweet girl? Feel good? Come on, ride my thigh, get yourself nice and wet for me. That's a good girl' he growled the last part, ripping open your shirt, the snap buttons coming open with a loud CLACK. He bent his head and softly kissed your chest, sucking and leaving hickeys anywhere that wasn't covered by your bra.

   As if reading his mind, you reached around and undid the clasp, letting both your shirt and your bra fall off your shoulders. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he looked at you. The moonlight from the window behind him illuminating your skin, your head thrown back and your eyes shut tight as you ground yourself onto him. The need to be close to you was settled in his very bones, every fiber of his being wanted you like an addict wants a drug.

   He had so much he wanted to do. He wanted to sit you on the desk and bury his face between the pillowy thighs he so often found himself daydreaming about. Wanted to see you bruising your knees for him, your eyes glassy while he hits the back of your throat. But all that could wait. He needed you too badly to take his time, to worship your body like the alter it was to him.

   'Want me pumpkin? Hm? Need me to stretch you out good? Make you feel full?' He purred, brushing the hair from your face. You could hardly answer, your mind already so scrambled for him, babbling your pleas and cries.

   He lifted you by your thighs, his hands finding home on your ass under your skirt as he held you above him, ready to lower you down onto him. He couldn't believe his luck as he watched you in wonder, his head falling forwards and into the crook your neck as you lowered yourself onto him, your tightness wrapping around him, ripping a loud, full moan from his throat. He helped you bounce, keeping you upright as you fucked yourself onto him, kissing him hard and deliberately.

   'Jus' like that honey. Fuck, you're so good. Wanted you for so long. Drive me absolutely insane,' you felt him say against your lips. He hugged you tight to him, one hand cradling the back of your head, and bucked his hips up into yours, holding you and cooing sweet praises as he used you, just like he always wanted to. The amount of times he'd imagined this exact scenario at night, when the only one to keep him company was his hand, was uncountable.

   He could feel his orgasam rising again already, and he would have been disappointed in himself if he couldn't feel you reaching your own breaking point.

   'Gonna cum for me? Hm? Gonna cum for your Police Cheif like a good little whore?' Oh, he was loving this. 'Where do you want it baby? Where do you want me to cum? All over that pretty face? On those perfect tits of yours?'

   You're were panting, your face pressed to his shoulder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

   'Jim- I,' you stumbled over your words, moaning as he hit your sweet spot over and over again, 'pill. Have the pill.'

   His head spun, 'yea? Want me to fill you up with my cum? I wanna see it leaking all over those perfect fucking thighs of yours, oh FU-' he almost loses himself to his own words, hips slamming messily against your ass.

   'Cum for me princess. That's it, be a good girl, scream it for me.'

   And you did, your release white hot. You pulled down the collar of his shirt, biting his shoulder, leaving teeth marks he was still admiring in the mirror the next day.

   He followed you closely, shooting thick, hot ropes inside of you, moaning and cursing, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you shook against him.

   'Did so good f'me honey. Made me cum so hard. God,'  he buried his face in your neck and breathed in, high off the scent of you and him mixed together.

  

Now, as you stir against him, whining softly in your sleep when he kisses your forehead because he just can't help himself, he smiles softly.

   He might be old, but damn do you love him. And if a few gray hairs don't bother you, then he can keep coping with it.

[loveesiren]

Champagne & Sunshine (Pt. 3)

JJ Maybank x Reader

Synopsis: Y/n shares her past with JJ for the first time while taking care of Marley brings them closer than ever.

*The events with Bandit are based on a true story from my life. RIP Brian <3

Warnings: Smut, language, spider bite, trauma/stabbing

Word Count: 3k+

You groan as you heard the knocking on your door. "What?" You ask.

Marley comes in, the smell of marijuana instantly filling your room. "You need to get up." She says, plopping down on your bed next to you and passing you the joint.

You peak up at her from under your covers, reaching your hand out to take the joint but barely revealing yourself.

"You need to call JJ. He won't stop texting me."

"I texted him last night." You groaned, taking a drag off the joint.

"You can't stay locked up in here forever. It's been three days."

"Three days isn't forever, Mars."

"It is for JJ! He's so worried about you."

You huff and hand the joint back to her, pulling the covers back over your head.

"Nope! Get up!" Marley yells, yanking the blankets back.

"Ouch, Marley!" You screamed, bringing your hand up to your hair. "You almost ripped my extensions out!"

She threw your comforter to the floor so you couldn't try to pull it back over you. "You're getting up and we're going to the Chateau."

"I'm not going," You state, shielding your eyes with your arm.

"Fine, I'll tell JJ to come here then."

"Marley stop!" You hiss.

"No! I'm not going to let you push him away!"

"He's gonna ask questions." You groan.

"No he won't. He won't even bring it up. He just wants to see you."

You were overwhelmed. You saw Bandit in your dream and he told you being with JJ was okay but you still weren't ready to have this conversation with him. Or even be with JJ? Thoughts flooded your head and you really had no idea what to think. So you decided that avoiding everyone was the best solution while you worked out what to do.

But you missed JJ. You missed all your friends. But specifically JJ. The way you felt at home in his arms. Maybe that's why you were avoiding him. You didn't want to lose him like you did Bandit.

You sighed. "Fine. We'll go." You finally said. You pulled yourself out of bed and made your way to your closet. You were not up for getting ready so you threw your hair into a claw clip and pulled on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt.

"Really?" Marley asked as she judged your outfit.

"Do you want me to go or not?" You scoffed, throwing your arms out to the side.

Marley rolled her eyes and headed out of your room. "I'm driving!" She called over her shoulder.

-

Marley parked the Wagon in front of the Chateau. You leaned your head against the glass and stared, knowing all you friends were in there waiting to hear from you.

"Come on, Y/n..." Marley groaned as she fell out of the drivers seat and made her way to your side. She flung the door open and grabbed your wrist. "Let's go."

You linked arms with her and walked towards John B's front door.

"I've awoken King Kylie!" Marley yelled as she thrusted you through the front door.

"Y/n!" JJ was on his feet in an instant, running to you and wrapping you up in his strong arms.

"Hey J!" You said. You couldn't help but wrap your legs around his waist as he lifted you off the ground. You buried your face in his neck and inhaled. You missed his scent. You missed him.

"Barbie, I missed you...Can we talk?" He asked softly, letting you down to the floor. You nodded and JJ immediately grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the front door before you got a chance to greet anyone else.

You shot a glance at Marley to make sure she was okay. She was cracking open a beer with Sarah and Kiara so you decided she was fine for a bit.

JJ dragged you all the way down the dock and helped you into the boat.

"J, I can't leave Mars..."

"We're not going anywhere. I just want to sit. She'll be okay, she's with Sarah." JJ responded.

You hesitated but took JJ's hand and stepped into the boat. You sat down and pulled your knees to your chest as JJ sat in front of you.

"How're you feeling?" He asked. His eyes were full of concern. You could tell he missed you with the way his fingers trailed over your manicured toes, wanting desperately to be close to you but not wanting to push you away.

"Uhm, I'm okay. I just needed a few days." You smile at him. "I'm sorry I've been distant."

"Don't be sorry," He smiles up at you. "I understand. I'm just glad you're okay."

You smiled and looked off at the the water around you.

JJ's POV

The way her tan skin glistened under the late sun. I could die. She's so fucking pretty.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked her nervously.

Y/n sighed, resting her head against her arm.

"You don't hav-"

"We were at a party. Bandit didn't even want to go but I convinced him because it was one of my best friends throwing the party. We were supposed to go back to school on Monday so it was one last winter break rager."

I sat quietly, listening to her shaky words.

"We were having fun. Playing beer pong, laughing, just having a great time. Then this kid Derek started harassing me and all the other girls..."

I swallowed harshly, focusing on massaging her feet.

"Bandit and his friends stepped in and Derek went berzerk. He took a knife from the kitchen and just started stabbing..."

"Y/n, I-"

"I just loved him so much, J...We were supposed to be forever. But that's not what God had planned..."

I sat silently, nodding my head.

"But everything happens for a reason. And now I'm here. With you. And JJ..."

I looked up at her, melting when her eyes met mine.

"You make me really fucking happy."

I couldn't help myself. I leaned up, taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger and pulling her lips to mine once again. The electricity I felt whenever her lips met mine...

She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer to her. She was everything I had ever dreamed of. If she gave me the chance, I'd make Bandit proud.

"JJ..." She whispered, pulling away.

"We can take it slow." I told her.

"It's not that, J. I'm just-I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"...Losing you."

I pressed my forehead to hers and ran my hands over her arms. "Life is scary." I sighed. "But we still have to live it. And living it with you...That's a dream come true. We can live or die. Those are the choices. So let's live while we can."

Y/n's POV

You smiled at JJ's words. He was right. You needed to live. Enjoy the moment while it was here. You dove forward, pressing your lips to his and tackling him to the floor of the boat. His hands found your hips, digging into you hungrily. You snaked your hands into his shaggy hair and moaned into the kiss.

"Y/n!" John B and Sarah screamed, running down the dock.

You groaned. You could never just enjoy kissing JJ. "I'm going to fucking kill them." You whispered and JJ chuckled.

"Y/n! Y/n!!!"

"Fucking what?!" You asked as you stood up.

"Mars was bit by a black widow!" Sarah said breathlessly.

"What?!" You were quick to jump out of the Pogue and make your way up the dock. JJ, John B, and Sarah trailing behind you.

You saw Marley on the ground, Kiara holding her head as she gasped for air, eyelids swelling shut. "Marley!" You cried and fell to your knees beside her.

"We called 911!" Kiara told you. "She was bit right here!" She points to the fang wounds on Marley's thigh.

"We were just sitting out here and it crawled on her and bit her before she even noticed it!" Pope said, pacing back and forth.

"Mars! Marley!" You yelled, lifting her off the ground. She was barely able to stand, tremors raking her body. "Marley, please!" You were crying now.

You heard the sirens approaching the Chateau. JJ was quick to grab Marley from you, scooping her into his arms and running towards the ambulance. You followed him, trying to control your breathing.

The ambulance parked and two paramedics hopped out. "Spider bite?"

"Black widow." JJ told them. "Please fucking help her!"

One of the paramedics took Marley from JJ and loaded her into the back of the truck. You and JJ climbed in behind her. Soon enough, the ambulance was pulling away, sirens blasting.

You looked out the back window at the Pogues. You could see Sarah and Kie crying. John B and Pope running their fingers through their hair as they stressed out about the situation.

You held Marley's hand, crying against her skin while the paramedic helped her. You could hear JJ on the phone next to you, you assumed he called your parents by the way he was frantically explaining what happened and that you were on your way to the hospital.

You couldn't stay focused on anything but Marley, crying and praying that she'd be okay.

-

The doctor finally came out to where you sat with JJ and your parents, desperately waiting for answers.

"How is she?" You dad asked, standing to meet the doctor. You remained in JJ's arms as you looked up at him.

"She's stable. She will be fine."

You let out a breath you hadn't known you'd been holding in.

"We had to give her a strong dose of anti-venom so we will need to keep her here for a day or two to make sure her body takes it well." The doctor says. "In the mean time, feel free to see her. She is asleep right now but she should be just fine."

"Thanks, doc." Your dad says, patting him on the shoulder. The doctor smiles and retreats to tend to other patients.

You enter Marley's room and smile. Relief washing over you as you watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, knowing she would be okay. Your parents run to her side and hold either of her hands. They hadn't gotten to see her since they arrived. Once the ambulance pulled into the hospital she was immediately taken from you and you and JJ were told to stay in the waiting room. Your parents had found you curled up in JJ's lap, crying into the crook of his neck as he soothed you.

"Thank you guys for getting her here." Your dad said.

"Yeah, of course." JJ smiled. "Anything for Mars."

You smiled. JJ really was the sweetest guy you'd ever met. The way he cared for you and your little sister. The way your parents loved him. You were scared. Anyone would be after what you went through. But JJ was right. It was either live or die. And after what happened to Marley, what happened to Bandit, you decided you were going to live, and you were going to do it with JJ by your side.

You yawned, leaning into JJ's side. He smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist, running his thumb gently over your exposed skin.

"Why don't you two go home and get some rest? Your father and I will stay with Mars tonight." Your mom offered.

"Are you sure? I don't mind staying. I just want to make sure-"

"Y/n." Your dad cut you off. "You've had a stressful day. You need to get some sleep. You can come back and see Marley in the morning, yeah?"

You nodded hesitantly. "Okay. But call me if she wakes up."

"We will."

You and JJ walked out of the hospital. It was later than you had thought. The sky was dark and the air was warm.

"Do you wanna go get your car?" JJ asked.

"Nah," You responded. "My place is closer than John B's. I'll get it tomorrow. Kind of in the mood to walk. If you're down with that?"

JJ smiles. "Fine with me, Barbie."

You chuckled and pulled out your phone, pressing play on your summer vibes playlist. Of course, Champagne & Sunshine was the first song to come on and that sealed the deal. This had been yours and JJ's song since the first time you played it for him on the beach.

"The waves are fucking crazy today," You said as you sat down on your towel and worked on setting up your bluetooth speaker.

"Fucking gnarly!" JJ laughed, grabbing two beers from the cooler and handing you one. "I'm exhausted."

You cracked open your beer and pressed play on your phone. You bobbed your head with the music before turning to meet JJ's gaze on you. "What?" You asked, cocking your head to the side.

"I like this song." He told you.

"Yeah? Me too. Makes me feel so fucking happy!" You say, leaning your head back for the sun to kiss your skin.

"Dance with me?" JJ asked, standing up and offering his hand.

"You dance? J, you can barely walk." You chuckled.

"Just trust me!" He says, yanking you to your feet. You giggled as he twirled you around and dipped you. You missed the way his eyes fell to your throat as you leaned your head back in laughter.

As soon as the beat dropped you found yourself grinding against JJ, his hands found your waist and pulled you flush against him, burying his face in your sea soaked hair. You didn't mind, you couldn't help the smile that broke across your face having him so close to you.

The song took you back to that night and you weren't surprised when JJ took your hand and danced with you again as you made your way down the street. Somehow, he was able to dance just fine without falling on his face and you couldn't help but smile as you moved around each other. Being with him was electric and vibrant and there was never a moment you hated.

When you got home, you fell back on your bed with an audible sigh. JJ chuckled and flopped down beside you. "Tired, Kyles?"

You looked over him with a smile. "I really don't look that much like Kylie Jenner."

"Oh you most definitely do. You and Marley both are the long lost Kardashian/Jenner sisters."

You giggle at his words. You never purposely tried to look like a Kardashian, but you accepted the compliment happily. You lock eyes with JJ and your smile falters slightly as you catch the look in his eye. It was one of desire, hunger. It ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach and before you knew it, you were straddling him, pressing your lips to his as he laced his fingers through your long locks.

You were alone with JJ finally. No parents. No sister. No John B to interrupt like he does every single time. Granted, you didn't blame him for looking out for your sister's safety, but still, not having his voice ruin the moment was nice.

JJ rolled you on your back, hovering over you as he placed wet kisses down your jaw and neck. You moaned at the sensation. You wanted him. Needed him. You'd waited long enough.

You fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt, helping to pull it up over his head. He tosses it to the floor, helping you out of yours before he presses his body back against your bare breasts.

"Are you sure bout this?" He mumbles against your skin as he kissed his way down to your tits.

"Absolutely," You huff, needing to feel him.

He takes your nipple between his teeth and sucks hard, pinching and twirling your other one and you could feel yourself growing wet under his touch. "Fuck, J! I need you..."

You use all your strength to push him back, falling to the ground on top of him as you bit into his neck. "Fuck, Princess!" He groans, hands finding your hips and digging into your skin. You were feral. It had been a while since you had sex and you absolutely needed it from JJ.

You stood up and rid yourself of your shorts, JJ doing the same beneath you. When you were both fully naked you threw yourself back at him, kissing him like it was the last time you'd ever get to.

He was hard as a rock and you were already dripping. You wasted no time sitting back and sinking down onto him. His hands on your hips to help guide you and he moaned loudly at the feeling of you.

You took a moment to adjust to his size before placing your hands on his chest and arching your back. You slowly began to move, spelling out your name with your grinding hips.

"Fuck, Y/n..." He moaned, squeezing his eyes shut and enjoying your movements. "You're fucking immaculate."

You leaned over, panting against his neck as you continued to ride him. JJ grunted in frustration, quickly pulling you off him and moving you so that your stomach was pressed against the floor. He pulled your hips up and pushed himself into you once again. "No, no, no, Princess. I'm making you cum first." He whispered in your ear before pulling out and thrusting into you again.

You cried out at the way his cock hit you at this new angle. "Oh fuck, J!" You screamed, clawing at the floor boards as you tried to contain yourself. He brought his fingers around to rub your soaking clit and kicked your legs open wider. He thrusted into you faster and you could feel yourself on the edge of Heaven.

"Cum for me, Barbie..." He groaned.

You did as you were told, eyes rolling back in your head as you clenched around him. The way your pussy was pulsing sent him over the edge and he spilled into you.

He stayed inside of you as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.

"Holy-"

"Fuck."

JJ pulled out of you, his seed dripping between your legs. You rolled on your back and he smiled down at your exhausted state. You returned the smile, admiring how gorgeous he looked with beads of sweat clinging to his skin.

"A-are you on birth control?" He asks you.

"Nope." You chuckle. "But I have Plan B. And I'll get on birth control."

JJ smiles at you. "Does that mean...we can do this again?"

"How about right now?" You giggle as you stand up and run to your bathroom to start the shower.

JJ threw his head back and smiled. "Thank you," He said to whatever God was listening before running in the bathroom to join you.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

[riiov]

FLOWERS

[attyhat]

I mean if I was Paris I'd shoot my shot too.....

Menelaus having level 112 gyatt and even having Paris falling in love with him

Paris is just a gooner, kick him out of the rizz party

@attyhat I'm not gonna break your Paris' curse 🗣️

[botflybitch]

la sad che la prima sera ha portato sul palco l'associazione lì del suicidio telefono amico thingy e ora canta lamette con la rettore is PEAK comedy

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 12: Marking with Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader Word Count: 730 Warnings: Marking, P in V sex, Possessive behavior, Mention of douchebags, Semi-Public sex (Bar bathroom), Hickeys, Biting, Possible unprotected sex (Unspecified).

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

The sounds of both your bodies were echoing off the walls of the dingy bathroom of the Hideout, mixing with Eddie’s heavy breaths and your little whimpers, trying so hard to stay quiet while Eddie made it his life’s mission to make you be as loud as possible.

The porcelain sink was cold under your touch as you leaned over it, ass in the air with your little skirt flipped up over your hips, panties dangling around your knees while the metal head behind you pounded away, filling your pussy over and over again.

“C’mon, Sweetheart…Let’em hear how good I make you feel…” He urged with a feral grin.

A shiver ran up your spine as you bit your lip, letting out another breathy moan that you buried in the crook of your elbow.

Tonight is Corroded Coffins’ normal night to play at the local bar, and you’d attended as you often do to support your boyfriend and his friends.

The thing that made this time different, was the trio of young men seated at the bar, colorful polos with popped collars, quaffed hair and arrogant smirks. They reminded you of Steve, but far douchier than he could have ever dreamed of being.

One had eyed you when you entered, making rude comments as you passed by on the way to the backroom, in spite of the fact you were walking hand in hand with Eddie.

“Bet I could fuck’er better than that loser…” You recalled hearing among other things, far filthier things.

You’d felt Eddies hold on your hand grow tighter, not out of anger at you, no it was all at the other male. Eddie had a possessive streak, and this stranger had just trampled all over it.

It wasn’t often that your boyfriend felt the need to stake his claim, but when he did, he made sure it was very clear.

Often times he would just make you cry out in ecstasy, screaming his name and begging him to make you cum. But this time it felt different, you had a feeling that wouldn’t be enough for him.

So, you reached back toward him, tugging him by the hand till he leaned down, pressing his chest to your back, and tilted your head, baring your neck to him.

He let out a breathy chuckle and you could feel his hair brushing your bare shoulder as he pressed his forehead to the back of your head. “God, I love you…” He groaned, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Show them…” Was all you said, voice airy and more than a little desperate.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He purred before you felt his soft full lips press to your heated skin, a light touch followed closing by the sensation of his teeth sinking into your flesh, not enough to break skin but plenty to leave a beautiful mark that would be a vivid purple in a matter of a few minutes, then he left another, and another.

The sensation had you clenching down on him, earning you a moan from deep in his chest, muffled by where his mouth is occupied. That was his queue to continue his previous task.

He had a needy girl to get off.

His hips returned to their punishing rhythm as he leaned back and brough you with him, causing you to arch your back and press back into his every thrust.

His lips remained attacked to your neck, sucking a smattering of smaller marks to decorate the collum of your neck before switching to the other side to make sure that they would be visible from every side.

 The dull sting of each one just sent new shocks of pleasure across your skin, driving you closer and closer to your peak.

It was with a cry that you came whimpering his name, voice echoing off the walls in a way that felt so loud in your ears, but you didn’t care, not when he attached his teeth to the curve of your neck and growled.

“That’s my girl.” He groaned as he finished, face buried right where his teeth had just been.

After cleaning up, and a quick check in, you both left the bathroom hand in hand, your hair now tied up to show off the new accessories now blooming on your skin.

The look on the assholes face was truly priceless.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I grew up with VERY limited knowledge on how vaginas work despite having one. I'm not sure I'm climaxing properly. How do I Che k that I'm reaching my full potential?

hi there. you're not a car or a computer; there's no peak performance to strive for. as long as you're doing whatever feels good and stopping when it no longer feels good, you're doing it properly.

[onlyonetifosi]

BEHIND THE CAMERA -> CHAPTER 10

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

Inside Yn and Joris’ apartment it was not a peaceful morning as tension lingered in the air. Yn and Joris, had been on a rough patch for the past week. The constant arguments had created a palpable distance between them, but with the Grand Prix coming, they had no choice but to put their differences aside.

“Yn, do you have any idea where my passport is?” Joris called out, his irritation thinly veiled.

Yn glanced up, her eyes meeting his with an exasperated look. “I don't know, Joris. Maybe check your bag?”

Their bickering had escalated over the week, each disagreement building upon the last. The tension had reached its peak, yet neither of them was willing to address the underlying issues. The argument had started with a late-night return after a party, but it had spiraled into a series of disagreements over the smallest things. Forgotten housework became a battleground, and their once harmonious home now echoed with the sounds of discord.

"Joris, we can't keep going on like this," she said in French, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

He shot her a sharp look, his response equally sharp, "Maybe if you took things more seriously, we wouldn't have to."

Yn sighed as she packed her bags, glancing at Joris who was doing the same. "We can't let our personal issues affect Charles and the team," she muttered, her tone strained.

Joris nodded, avoiding eye contact. "We'll get through this weekend, and then we can talk."

In the airport, Charles Leclerc greeted his sister with a smile, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing between Yn and Joris. As they joined the Ferrari team, Andrea, Charles' trainer and friend, noticed the strained atmosphere.

"Yn, abbiamo notato qualcosa di strano ultimamente. Tutto a posto tra te e Joris?" (Yn, we've noticed something strange lately. Everything okay between you and Joris?) Andrea asked, concern etched across his face.

Yn hesitated, glancing at Joris before responding, "No, tutto bene. Siamo solo stanchi (No, everything's fine. We're just tired)"

Andrea, however, wasn't easily fooled "Non sembra solo stanchezza. Cosa sta succedendo?" (It doesn't seem like just tiredness. What's going on?) "Ricorda, siamo una famiglia qui. Se c'è qualcosa che va male, parliamone" (Remember, we're a family here. If something is wrong, let's talk about it)

Yn sighed, "Abbiamo litigato. Ma non vogliamo distrarre Charles e il team, quindi stiamo cercando di risolvere tutto privatamente." (We had a fight. But we don't want to distract Charles and the team, so we're trying to sort it out privately.)

Andrea nodded knowingly, his dark eyes showing empathy. "Ricordati che la comunicazione è la chiave. Parlatene prima che diventi troppo grande." (Remember, communication is key. Talk about it before it becomes too big)

Despite Andrea's advice, Yn and Joris continued to maintain a façade of normalcy. The strain persisted until even Charles couldn't ignore the palpable tension.

"Qu'est-ce qui se passe, Joris?" (What's going on, Joris?) Charles inquired, sensing the discomfort.

Joris hesitated before responding, "Rien, Charles. Juste quelques désaccords." (Nothing, Charles. Just a few disagreements.)

Charles wasn't convinced but chose not to push further. The trio continued their work, managing to maintain a facade of normalcy in front of the rest of the team.

As the weekend unfolded, the tension lingered beneath the surface, affecting their efficiency. Andrea, however, wasn't one to let things slide.

"Non potete continuare così. Risolvete i vostri problemi, le vostre energie negative non aiutano né voi né Charles" (You can't go on like this, sort out your problems. Your negative energies help neither you nor Charles) 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the morning sun bathed the hotel room in a warm glow on Sunday morning, Yn couldn't help but feel a heaviness in her heart. Yn sighed, glancing at herself in the mirror. She adjusted her makeup, trying to find solace in the routine. Joris, sitting on the bed, was scrolling through his phone, seemingly engrossed in something that wasn't the current situation.

"Joris, nous devons parler" (Joris, we need to talk) Yn spoke up for the first time that day.

"Peut-on le faire plus tard? Nous avons déjà assez de problèmes." (Can we do it later? We already have enough issues) Joris glanced up to look at her across the room, his expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

"Non, Joris. C'est assez. Je ne peux pas continuer comme ça" (No, Joris. It's enough. I can't go on like this)

Their eyes met in the mirror, and a heavy silence lingered for a moment.

"Je m'ennuie de toi" (I miss you) Yn starts as she feels her eyes getting teary of the frustration she has had for more than a week.

Joris put his phone down, looking genuinely surprised by Yn's vulnerability.

Joris met her gaze, his expression softening "Yn, je suis désolé pour tout. Les disputes, c'était idiot. Je ne voulais pas que ça dure aussi longtemps" (Yn, I'm sorry for everything. The arguments were foolish. I didn't want it to last this long)

Yn nodded, a tear escaping her eye "Moi non plus. J'ai manqué de sommeil cette semaine, et je ne pouvais pas être en colère contre toi plus longtemps. Tu m'as manqué" (Me neither. I've been sleep-deprived this week, and I couldn't stay angry at you any longer. I missed you)

They both apologized, acknowledging their faults, and gradually the weight of the week began to lift. Joris reached out and touched Yn's hand, "Je suis désolée" (I'm sorry)

"Tu es magnifique, Yn. As always" (You look beautiful, Yn) Joris complimented her.

"Merci, Joris. You don't look too bad yourself," Yn replied with a teasing smile.

Their eyes locked, and the weight of the past week seemed to lift. Yn and Joris shared a tender moment of reconciliation, their unspoken words mending the fractures in their relationship. Without a word, they closed the gap between them and shared a heartfelt kiss, the first in what felt like an eternity.

As Yn and Joris emerged from their room, hand in hand, the team members noticed the change in their demeanor. Charles grinned, nudging his sister and best friend. "Looks like our favorite couple has made up."

As they made their way to the hotel buffet for breakfast, the other members of the Leclerc entourage couldn't help but notice the change in the atmosphere.

"Siete tornati insieme?" (Are you back together?)

Yn nodded with a shy smile, "Sì, Andrea. Abbiamo risolto le cose." (Yes, Andrea. We sorted things out.)

Andrea clapped Joris on the back, "Sono felice per voi!" (I'm happy for you!)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they headed to the race track, the camaraderie between Yn and Joris was evident. Charles, with a smirk, teased, "Finally remembered how to get along?"

Yn playfully nudged her brother, "Shut up, Charles. Today is about winning, and we're all in this together"

As the race unfolded, Charles displayed his skill on the track, and the Leclerc family watched with pride from the pit. The cheers of the team members echoed through the air as Charles crossed the finish line, securing a victory.

In the celebration that followed, Andrea embraced Yn and Joris, "Sono felice che vi siate riconciliati. La squadra ha bisogno di armonia" (I'm glad you reconciled. The team needs harmony)

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@topguncultleader@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie

[weretheones]

All You Got | Part 13

Part 13: Strangers

Plot: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4)

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: typical twd content. claimers: a warning in of itself. references to attempted sexual assault. lots of gore and blood. A/N: hi again! excited to be posting this part :) its been a long time coming... happy reading!

A low fire flickered just past the trees. Maybe fifty feet away. 

“You think it's those men?” 

“Could be.” Daryl shook his head. “Could be anyone.” 

Despite walking all day and most of the night, you hadn’t been able to escape the threat of people. Even if that fire on the road hadn't been set by those men— and from the lack of cruel laughing and bruising punches, you figured it wasn't— it still meant people. Strangers. Bodies of unknown, with all the potential to be as twisted and cunning as the Governor, or as kind and loyal as Daryl. 

The small fire crackled. 

“What do we do?” 

“Can’t take a good look without riskin’ them seein’ us.” 

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn't have stopped moving, after all. 

There was a bush ahead. The branches looked loose enough that you could peak an eye through and take a better look at the strange fire and the stranger people. In a bush that small, it would be a tight fit, but you could do it. 

Your eyes flickered back to Daryl and those broad shoulders. He definitely couldn’t. 

So without another thought, and maybe not much choice, you crouched down. “Wait here.” 

You'd managed to move about a foot when his hand inevitably caught your wrist, and his rough voice hissed your name in warning. 

“Just trust me,” you mumbled, almost as quiet as the soft cricketing of the night air. It all seemed to drown out at the sight of that sharp caution in his eyes; blue darkened by the night and the weight of the world that rested on his shoulders. You blinked, and then your free hand was wrapped around his, the pad of your thumb brushing along his rough skin. “I don’t want them to find us, either.” 

The tension melted away like slow dripping wax; the look in his eye softened, his grip relaxed. 

You could guess that weight on his shoulders hadn’t quite lifted, not when those people were still so close and so unknown. But once his hand loosened enough for you to pull back, there was a patch of cold along your wrist where he'd held you tight. Where you'd felt the heat of adrenaline coursing through his veins, warming his skin. Daryl tried to swallow his concern as you finally slipped away and into the bush. 

You kept your head as low as possible. Crouched down and moving slow, like a wolf sneaking on its prey, though you weren't feeling quite predator-like. Not when you still had that swinging ball of anxiety slamming back and forth between your heart, lungs, and ribs. You thought of the gun at your hip. Four bullets left— no, three. You'd used one yesterday. Shit. 

The branches were thin and dry. If you pushed them too far, they'd snap in half. Some leaves rustled off the bush as you snuck your way inside. You kept your hands close, only drawing down that last branch an inch so you could peek past. The flames of the fire were the brightest thing around, even if you could tell it’d been made in a way to keep it as small and unsuspecting as possible. But smoke still drifted away in long strands, floating through the night, invading the forest air. The fire cracked, now and then, as a shadowy figure sat beside it. His head was hanging down, a lock of curly brown hair falling across his forehead as he chewed at something in his hands. A bone, maybe. 

Boots clicked along the pavement as a woman approached from the beaten-up blue truck to the right. She walked toward the fire with a languid stride. You could only see her silhouette backdropped across a glow of orange light. Her hair fell down her back in thick, black strands and something long and thin stick crossed over her back. 

You waited a moment or two, but the pair of them never gave a glimpse of their faces, and no one else seemed to be around. Still, the two strangers on the road didn’t seem to be a part of that group you came across earlier; you doubted that men like those would let a woman tag along. 

Finally free from the dying bush, you snuck back to Daryl. 

“There’s a woman,” you whispered when you got close enough. “It's not them.” 

“Just her?” 

"No, there was a man, too." You shook your head. "Maybe more in the truck." 

"You get a good look at 'em? They got guns?" 

"I couldn't see their faces. The man had a gun, and she had something on her back. It could have been a—" 

There was a laugh, then. 

A familiar one. 

Then another, and another, and they all overlapped until you could almost see that blue truck again, trunk open and all your supplies thrown around. Fear slammed back into your chest. You could’ve sworn you were back at that tree, pressed between Daryl and the rough bark, skin smoking with that fiery panic that caught right where your heart was supposed to be. 

“We gotta go.” Daryl's voice cut through the yells and fear like a dull blade. His tone was hard. Almost as stern as you remembered it from all those weeks ago. 

You nodded slowly. Smoke tinged the air you inhaled and your thoughts wandered back to those people. That woman... Unsuspecting. 

Daryl grabbed your wrist and brought you to a stand. But the forest floor had turned into quicksand, and you couldn't move yet.

“Those people on the road—” 

His jaw locked. 

“’S too late for ‘em.” His narrowed eyes flashed toward the road. That usual shade of blue was now dark and threatening as the laughter only grew louder. 

They were already there. 

He tried to move forward, to drag you out of that quicksand pit of empathy that might finally suffocate you, after all, but you didn't budge. You couldn't. 

“You heard what they’ll do to ya,” Daryl growled as if you needed a better reason to go with him. 

Instead you twisted out of his grasp. “They’ll do the same thing to them.” 

Of course, he knew that. There was a string wrapped around his pounding heart, pulling tighter and tighter because those people on the road didn’t deserve what was coming for them. No one did. But then there was you. With those big eyes, wide and glistening with fear even beyond that stubborn glow, and he hated it. Hated that he could recognize it so easily. He never wanted to see your features twisted in pain again. If those men got you— if a walker got you— if anything happened… 

"We— we have to help," you rasped out, even if instinctive fear seemed to be winning over your empathy as the seconds ticked by. Perhaps you could hear what he was thinking. The possibilities that ran through his mind and made his jaw lock he thought he might break a tooth. "We can try." 

His grip was back at your wrist, but this time it felt deeper. As if his fingers were melting into your skin, the thump of his heartbeat drowning into your own. 

“It ain’t worth losin’ you.” 

It was silent. Tension rising into the air like the strands of smoke lifting off that small, almost forgotten fire. It started as a soft wisp of burning wood, until your brain seemed to process what he'd said. Those words surrounded you, filling your lungs with that bittersweet burn, deeper and deeper with every slow, conscious breath you pulled in. 

You swallowed. It seemed to soothe the tension, an inch. 

Now wasn’t the time.

You opened your mouth to spill another retort because you’d changed these last few months, had become the type of person who would stand up for what they thought, scared or not. But before you could say a word, another ripped through the air. A guttural yell. 

“Carl!”  

---

After months of your blood-stained hands digging their way through Daryl’s tough-as-steel exterior, praying for a moment to prove yourself worthwhile of all the chances he'd given you, it was here. They were here. His people. 

Carl was in the grimy hands of one of those men with the bellowing laughs. Joe— the leader— had his gun to the back of Rick’s head. The woman you’d seen on the road, you didn’t remember her name, but you knew there was a gun on her too. There had to be. 

And Daryl went to them, leaving you in the bushes with his last words still ringing in your ears.

“Listen to me. If shit goes south… I don’t give a fuck what happens to me, you run, y’hear?” 

“Daryl—” 

“You run.” 

Your hands shook like those dead leaves on the bush, heart pounding so loud you could barely hear the click of your gun’s magazine releasing. You counted the bullets, even if you already knew how many were there. 

You hadn’t even realized you grabbed his hand. Not until his eyes flickered between it and you. 

You whispered... maybe whimpered, “I can’t just—” 

Two in the magazine. One in the chamber. Three bullets for five men— that you knew of. 

The skinny one was missing. Len. Maybe he’d finally been beaten to hell, himself. Maybe they'd left him behind. 

“I can’t do this knowin’ that those assholes might find ya.” 

Your eyes shimmered with a concern he was still getting used to receiving. He blinked, then squeezed your hand back. 

“You run,” he repeated. 

Daryl moved through the shadows of the forest like he’d been doing it his whole life— and God did it feel like that, the stretch of time filled with more yelling and pleading and laughing while he moved closer to the spot where the forest broke open. 

What the hell he was planning on doing when he got to the road’s edge, you had no idea. The mere thought made your heart squeeze tighter than Daryl had your hand. 

A shadow moved behind him. 

You gasped. Raised your gun as if it wouldn’t be the stupidest thing in the world to fire it at only a glimpse of a figure. A waste of bullets on shadows. What was likely nothing more than a lone walker, wandering with nothing but the road’s sounds to lead its path. And with all those cruel men so close, they'd come running at the shot’s echo. But just as you were about to rush out, knife in hand with nothing more than a hope that you could make it on time, the shadow raised a bow of its own. 

Not a walker. 

Your fingers fell off his. 

The softest of whispers, “Just come back.” 

Sometime between sneaking up on Daryl and when they finally broke from the tree line, Len had taken the crossbow from him, slinging his compound bow across his back. The crossbow was easier to aim at Daryl’s head while they walked onto the road.

“Found another one’a them!” 

Quiet. For a moment. 

Daryl and Rick's eyes met for the first time in months. They both had weapons aimed to the back of their heads. 

From that angle, you couldn't see Daryl's face. Only the shift in his shoulders, dropping barely an inch as he stilled. A slight wobble in his stance. Across the road, recognition sunk into Rick’s features, but they never quite found the relief you hoped to see when this day came. Of course, you had always imagined it under vastly different circumstances. Finding them on the road. Maybe at Terminus. Not in the dark of night, surrounded by men who wanted to kill— and worse. 

“Fool thought he could sneak up on us,” Len chuckled. 

He only let Daryl pause for a second before he grew bored and kicked at the back of his leg, and Daryl crumbled like a straw-man released from its post. His knees scratched along the cold concrete, palms flat for the second it took for him to regain his senses. To get that breath back in his lungs after the gut-punching sight of his friend's faces, the ones he dreamt about night after night. 

“Hey!” The one with a gun on the woman— what was her name again?— yelled, “Those arrows look familiar to you?” 

Len looked down to see the same green shoots on the crossbow’s bolts as his own compound's— the ones he'd stolen from the car earlier that day.

“Holy shit,” Len exhaled. “That was your car, wasn’t it?” 

Joe laughed, a hearty, full-lung chuckle, “Shit! And here I was thinking of turning in for the night on New Year's fuckin’ Eve!” 

“Settle a bet for us, why don’t ya? You were traveling with a woman, right?” 

Even with all the trees between you, you could see Daryl’s jaw clench. It only spurred Len on further. 

“Mhm. I bet that bitch is out there, too. Hiding in the bushes, like a little rabbit?” He knelt as if to take a closer look at Daryl’s quickly retreating composure. The vein popping in his forehead, the red tint to his cheeks. “I love me some rabbit. ‘M real good at huntin’ ‘em down.” 

Daryl’s heart was pounding hard, face flush with the anger racing through his veins like bad moonshine, turning him blind to the reasonable course of action. Keep his head down, wait for his chance... But how the hell could he do that when the road was burning hot underneath his palms? When he could see red— the red of your blood— pooling below? 

Then Len leant in even closer, and then all he could think about was rot; the smell reeking from the yellow of his teeth when he grinned, the black tar that soaked his soul. The way he wished he could see the dead rip into the bastard. 

“Think I can make ‘er squeal?” 

Daryl jumped up. He landed a punch right on Len’s nose. There was nothing quite like the smooth relief that pumped through his veins when he felt bone crack underneath. 

Len fell back. Blood coated his mouth and chin, shining in the moonlight like a damn spotlight, begging for another hit. But for all that asshole’s undeserved cockiness, he still had the numbers to back him up; another one grabbed the back of Daryl’s vest, pulled him away from a stumbling Len, and threw a bruising punch of his own. Before you could even aim your gun, Daryl was back on the ground and kicked in the gut as a third man joined in. 

“Kill ‘im! Fuckin’ idiot.” Len snarled, throwing a punch after he was done cradling his face. Daryl was dragged by the men and tossed on top of the car's hood like a doll. Fists slammed into his sides, his back, his face. Any punch he threw back was quickly met with two more. 

“Listen, it was me, it was just me,” Rick yelled out, his voice a rumble of pleading and hopelessness. He shook his head, his son pressed against that big man with the sickening grin on one side, and Daryl taking fist after fist to the jaw, eye, stomach, and shoulder on the other.  

“Oh, don’t worry. We can settle this, we’re reasonable men.” 

Your finger twitched along the trigger. From the depths of your memory, a word echoed. 

Liar. 

Joe continued, “First, we’re gonna beat your friend to death. Then, we’ll have the girl, then the boy. Then I’m gonna shoot you and we’ll be square!” 

The gun felt lighter. Those three bullets suddenly etched with the names of these men— Joe, Len, that fucker with the knife on Carl. 

“Let him go,” Rick shuttered out. The rumbling anger in him began to leak like a dam about to burst. Somehow, those three words huffed into the night air, even with a gun at the back of his neck, still managed to sound like a threat. 

And they were. 

You flinched when Rick threw his head back to collide with Joe’s face. The first shot rang out as he stumbled, clutching his face with one hand and letting his smoking gun fall with the other. Time slowed, but Rick was even slower, blinking and shaking his head as the ringing must've trapped in his ear. A bloody Len looked over with Daryl's bow in hand once again as Joe coughed, blood leaking down his face, too. In the time it took for him to stand straight again, Rick had managed to get up and punch him. 

Joe punched back harder. 

Rick fell to the ground like a bag of bricks. 

“I got him. Go find your rabbit, Len.” A groan left both of them as Joe forcefully kicked his boot into Rick's gut. “Oh, it’s gonna be so much worse now.” 

There was no doubt about it. Joe’s words echoed into the dark night, muddled with the sounds of whimpers, groans, skin rubbing against concrete. This was headed as far south as it could, tunneling straight to hell from the sounds of it, and a heavy shadow wrapped its slimy, inescapable arms around you. 

“Come on, already. Get up. Let's see what ya got," Joe taunted as he circled Rick, who couldn't seem to find his balance. 

With the back of his hand, Len wiped his bloody chin before he turned toward the forest line. A look in his eye even darker and slimier than that shadow. 

If you had thought about it first, you would have stayed still. But staggering backward felt more like instinct than thought, something you hadn’t realized you were doing until a branch snapped under your foot. 

A tense second hung in the air between you and this man, wondering if he could pinpoint the small crack amongst all the muffled cries and painful groans. 

He smiled a sickening grin. 

A chill down your back as your breath caught in your throat. His eyes narrowed in on the section of woods Daryl left you in, eyeing between the branches like you really were a little rabbit, and he was fucking starving. 

Run. He’d told you to run and here you were, frozen with uncertainty. Where would you run? How could you live with yourself, leaving them for dead? What if you shot and missed, three times? What if—

"You leave him be!" Rick yelled when Carl cried out. 

Finally, Joe caught Rick. He laughed, "The hell are you gonna do now, sport?" 

A new scream. Not from Carl or Rick. But before you could tell from whom, it had morphed into gurgling and choking, instead. 

Then Rick spat. 

Len turned around, and without those predator eyes on you anymore, you saw it. The way Joe's body turned limp, his hand grasping Rick's collar the last thing to give out before he fell to the ground. A mess of blood spurted out of his neck until the red skulls on his shirt melted into the red that poured down his body. 

From his mouth to his chest, Rick was covered in the same colour. 

It took a moment for everyone to realize what had happened. That Rick had bit Joe’s throat out like a fucking walker. An air of shocked silence lingered until a few gasps made their way around the road. By the time Len began to raise Daryl's crossbow in Rick's direction, a choice had been made, and you stepped from behind the bush. 

Gun raised.

Len's head snapped forward with the impact of the bullet. He crumbled to the ground faster than Joe, crossbow buried underneath his limp limbs. The woman used the second air of shock to grab the gun pointed at her head, twisted it to the man holding it, and fired. He fell, too. 

You stepped out of the tree line. Smoking gun and narrowed eyes exposed under the moonlight. Their eyes snapped to you, unsure only for a second before you shot the men at Daryl's side. One in the head, the other in the throat. He fell back, grabbing at his leaking neck until Daryl threw him down and stomped on his windpipe to finish the job. 

One man was left. He'd put a knife to Carl's throat amid everything, grabbed the boy to his chest and promised he'd kill him if you did anything. The woman had already aimed her gun at him, and you knew yours was empty by now, but neither stopped you from aiming yours, too. 

"Put them down!" He yelled, eyes snapping between the pair of you. The knife inched closer to Carl's neck. "I'll do it!" 

Rick stood up. Joe's knife was in his hand as he stalked toward the man and his son with nothing more than a growl. 

"He's mine." 

The man's eyes widened. "S— Stay back! Please—" 

Rick drove the knife into his chest. Once. Twice. Then dragged it up and down and you should have looked away. He was snarling like a wild animal, staring that man— that monster— right in the eye. Unleashing every drop of that boiling rage inside of him. You knew it was because of what he tried to do to his son, but something in you almost felt as sharp as that knife, stabbing over and over. And maybe that was why you couldn't look away, because the hot gun in your hand suddenly felt so light. 

Empty. 

Maybe you should have saved a bullet in case Rick tried to gut you next, for what you had done to his son, to his family. 

Just as those dark thoughts wrapped around your mind, familiar fingers did the same at your wrist. You blinked, finally tearing your eyes off of all the blood and guts only to notice that you hadn’t dropped your gun, that you were now aiming it at Rick’s head. He’d given up on his assault, dropping the mess of that dead monster to the ground with nothing more than a heavy thump. Now he was facing you, eyes narrowed and unreadable under the moonlight as Daryl's hand lowered your gun. 

The second you turned to him, you let it fall to the ground, lost in the red splattered across his face, the cut above his eyebrow, the puffiness of his right eye. 

Red, red, red. 

Something squeezed your hand. His fingers were still wrapped around you. 

You blinked, and the red cleared a bit. Enough that even in the dark of night, you could still see the shimmering blue of care, of concern, of Daryl. 

Daryl. 

Bruised but alive. Touching your skin. Drawing you back with every thump of your heartbeat.

And just like the gun, you let go of the fear, too.

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A/N: if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

AYG taglist: @fuseburner @itsmeatballworld @rickysgrimes @stevenknightmarc @huffledor-able541 @your-shifting-gurl @hopefulatrocity @strnqer @dreamtofus @fillechatoyante @suniloli @kiaslily @poubxlle @normanplusdaryl @sseleniaa @wanhedavaliquette @murdadixon

[kentosbabes]

JJK version of 'what songs they have sex to' (with links)

Gojo

Gojo is a very rough but in a passionate way, pulling on your hair, manhandling you, and digging his hands into your thighs. Although it may seem like an innocent kiss, in seconds he's got you up against the wall pounding into you. Music wise anything he can fuck you to the beat with tbh.

In For It - Tory Lanez

Needed me - Rihanna

Say It - Tory Lanez

Birthday sex - Jeremiah

Nanami

Nanami may seem gentlemanly but in bed, he's a FREAK. Sometimes he cant resist, fucking you in his office, over the kitchen counter as you cook dinner or even in the bathroom of the restaurant your at for dinner. His thrusts are slow but deep hitting all the right spots so the music has to match with the slow sensual vibe

I was never there - the weeknd

Peak (fed up) - Raahiim

Shut up and listen - Angelicca

Karma - summer walker

Toji

Toji is hard and rough. He loves backshots and pulling you up against him to see your fucked out expression as he continues to pound into you. He loves your ass and thighs and practically NEEDS to be touching them at all times.

All I need - Lloyd

Often - The Weeknd

I know - Big Sean, Jhene Aiko

Na Na - Trey Songz

Megumi

Megumi was very inexperienced when you first met so you had to teach him a little. But once he learned how to please you he was the best you'd ever had. His long slender fingers reaching deep inside of you hitting all the right spots. His eyes staring into you while he praises you.

All the time - Jeremih

No sense - Justin Bieber

B.E.D - Jacquees

Thats my baby - Che Ecru

Yuji

Yuji is rough with you but makes sure to keep praising you. He has a massive breading kink and loves missionary. He wants to look into your eyes as he fills you up. He's constantly kissing up and down your body leaving hickeys all over to make sure you know your his.

2am - Che Ecru

Sex money feelings die - Lykke Li

Collide - Justine Skye, Tyga

Goosebumps - Travis Scott + Chase Atlantic

Masterlist

[formulapookie]

💛💛

under the cut to read on Tumblr, here to read on Ao3

❗️mention of throwing up❗️ chapter 2

Les fleurs du mal ch.1 rosquez, 1.3k words

His ears are ringing, he can feel the blood running in his veins.

He’s stuck there, unable to move, forcing a trained smile on his face, holding the tears at bay.

There’s only Vale’s words playing on loop in his brain, like a broken record.

He’s torturing the little anti stress he’s got in his hands, heart rate at its peak, he thinks he’s about to throw up.

Marc sees a flash of Yamaha Blue in front of him, leaving after saying those things.

He can’t believe he really said that.

“É vero che era mio fan? Che aveva il mio poster in camera? Non so dovrei controllare”

These words cut a deep wound in Marc’s heart, he can feel it bleeding, it hurts more than any crash he ever went through.

He saw it. He saw the poster and the cap and the little bikes he collected.

He saw the framed picture of the two of them together, the signed helmet he kept in his room.

Saw it all when he came to his home, when Marc showed him his little sanctuary, like Vale called it.

“You have a sanctuary here eh?”

Marc had blushed, looking down at his feet.

“Yeah I like to collect the bikes, and I have the picture we took in-“ “In 2008 I remember”

Marc had smiled at that, and Vale had smiled back, asking Marc if he remembered each of the bike from each race.

And he did.

Vale had looked at him with stars in his eyes while he pointed at each bike telling him from which race it was.

“You really are amazing Marc”

Marc had blushed again, Vale had kissed him and led him to his bed.

They were alone in the home, Marc had asked Alex to go to a friend’s house for the day, and possibly the night, since their parents were both out for a small holiday.

Alex had pulled a disgusted look but agreed, it wasn’t like he wanted to be there when his brother and boyfriend? fuckbuddy? would’ve done what they wanted to do.

Vale had been gentle, kind, he cooked for him afterwards, Amatriciana, and it was really good.

They had sex again after dinner, forgetting about the movie playing on TV and ending up

being woken by Alex’s screech as he came back home the day after, finding them naked and hugging under the blanket on the sofa.

Vale had seen his home.

Vale had seen his room.

And now he’s saying he doubts him ever being a fan of his.

Marc leaves the conference room feeling like he could be blown away by the first wind breath, he’s trying to convince himself this is just a nightmare, he will wake up and he will be in bed with Vale, the sharp smell of his shampoo and the light touch of Vale’s fingers on his torso.

But for how much he tries to wake up he can’t.

He’s still here, in his motorhome now, tears who can’t seem to stop falling from his eyes, shivers all around his body like he’s got a fever.

He feels disoriented, he’s breathing too fast and there’s a suffocating feeling in his throat and chest. He’s trying to walk around his motor home but he’s unsteady, he’s aware he might fall on the ground at any moment.

Alex and his father had tried to get in, but he yelled at them to leave him alone, and Marc never yelled.

They had given up, after a few more useless attempts, but none of the two was calm in leaving Marc alone.

Marc runs for the bathroom, leaning over the toilet and puking his lunch and everything he ate that day too.

He pukes until he can’t feel anything anymore, but there’s still something in his chest, it feels rooted inside him.

No.

No no no fuck no it can’t be.

Marc barely has the time to deny this possibility that he’s leaning on the toilet again, coughing unstoppably.

As he looks down with terror his fear is confirmed.

Petals.

Yellow ones, what a fucking joke the fate has for him.

He remembers his biology teacher talking about it.

“Hanahaki disease is a somatic disease which attacks your lungs and throat, making it hurtful for one to even breathe at some point. It can cause death if it’s not treated. The symptoms are easy to remember, whoever is infected will start to puke petals, sometimes random colors, sometimes colors we associate with the person which is causing the Hanahaki. The disease manifests itself when an individual is living an unrequited love or believes he is living it. One can either wait and hope the feelings are reciprocated or get an operation consisting of the removal of the blossom, placed between one’s lungs. It’s a risky and complicated process, and a side effect could be the loss of the capacity of an individual to feel romantic love, and in some cases the loss of every memory tied to the person causing it”

Two yellow petals stand floating in his toilet, staring back at him before Marc flushes, looking at them go away with terror in his eyes.

No one must know. Not even his family or God forbid, Vale.

What would Vale do if he knew?

At this point he is not sure of anything. He would make fun of him with his friends most likely.

Or he would call him a liar once again, just shortening the time in which the disease could become incurable.

Lucìa, the little girl with braids, raised her hand.

“Teacher but how much time do we have before the flowers kill us?”

“Well let’s hope it never happens, but it depends on the hurt one experiences during the disease. If the patient gets hurt by the person they love it will fasten the process, and sometimes it goes further so rapidly the patient doesn’t realize he doesn’t have time anymore, and even if he wants to get the operation done it wouldn’t do anything”

He will keep this a secret.

If it’ll end up being the case he will undergo the operation.

But until then he’ll just hope. Hope for Vale to love him again.

Vale is sitting in his motor home, a cold beer in hand as Uccio tells him all about Marc’s reaction at the press con.

Uccio seems delighted by it, seems to be feasting on Marc’s pain and suffering in a way that even to Vale is concerning.

Like yeah, after how he acted Vale does find it funny to watch Marc’s helpless reaction on screen, but the type of fun Uccio has it’s sick.

“He was about to cry god what a fucking pussy” “Look Vale how he looks for you and is absolutely to cry” “Serves him right after how dangerous he’s been towards you yeah?”

Vale knows damn well Marc does have those bikes and posters at his. Because he’s seen them all when he went to Cervera.

But he still thinks what he said was the right thing to do.

Because he knows despite his words Marc will stay tied to his leash like a fucking dog and follow him everywhere and listen to his words like commands.

He knows he could call Marc right now, have Uccio leave him alone, and he could fuck Marc with all the anger and need he wants.

And he knows Marc would take it, fucking say thanks probably, and go on loving him no matter what he says.

He doesn’t, he just doesn’t feel like fucking him right now, but keeps that number at top 1 for how many times he’s called him.

He wants to see how mean he can be before Marc gives up.

Maybe he’s wrong in judging Uccio.

This is just as fucked up as him laughing because Marc was in the edge of breaking on live.

Because in the end the idol is Valentino Rossi, and the fan is Marc Marquez. And Marc Marquez is a damn loyal dog.

[saiyanwitcher]

Holy crap, Prince of Death is such a tour de force! The attention to detail, the world-building, the intense drama, the raw emotions - it's all just stunning. 

Admittedly, I know almost nothing about DBZ, and you've done a fantastic job weaving just enough background into the narrative for the uninitiated while making it your own for this universe at the same time. The blend of fantasy and sci-fi on display is so yummy and rich to devour.

And Max just needs the biggest hug, ugh. At least he's together with Charles... (for now?!) - tho, I can already picture the angst and drama ahead when Max wakes up - poor thing bears the weight of duty so heavily and personally (and honorably).

And Alonso - omg!! Love how he calls Max out for his shit, protects him, teaches him, just - everything about him in his role in this AU is gold.

Hopefully Carlos stops being a little punk - maybe once he realizes that Alonso has also sent his prince to the same destination that he set for Charles (which I'm dying to see where that it is, btw - with pop culture in my head, I can see anything from Dagobah to Hoth to Vormir to... even Mars lol - whatever you choose, I know it will be great), or once Carlos has an inevitable reconciliation and he sees just compatible Max & Charles truly are... such potential! ✨

I did have higher hopes for George, ugh. He should know better than to follow in his master's vile footsteps, but otherwise, he makes for a rich villain. And that's to say nothing of Jos - you've done an excellent job making him truly repulsive with his physical & emotional abuse in the name of controlling Max. And I absolutely cannot wait for him to get his just deserts - to be on the receiving end of Max letting the full force of his power loose, hair & eyes flaming as he unleashes raw fury - oh, please, please, let it be so! (Tho, no matter how Jos goes down, it will still be infinitely rewarding).

... okay, this got way longer than I thought, so my apologies 🤭 But in short, this fic is just outta-this-world stellar. Thank you so much for sharing and I look forward to reading more ❤🚀

Hello there!

I've really tried my hardest to explain things thoroughly and adapt the universe to make it my own, so I'm glad people aren't like . . . wtf are you talking about? 😅

Alonso is so amazing and fit this roll perfectly in my head, I'm glad it's translating on paper. While he's not Max's or Charles' real dad, he's the father they both deserve.

Carlos is in for some major transformation of character in part 2 as well as George. Those two need some growth and perspective, and they will be getting both (for better or worse) as the story goes on.

I'm so glad you mentioned the little sneak peak I gave for Max's potential in ch 12! I didn't get a lot of comments on it, but in his rage and grief, trying to protect himself, he tapped into something that he will need to find again later. Now, did he find it because it was about Charles? Or has he always had it and just couldn't break through 👀 Regardless, there will be more exploration in part 2.

Max is having the hardest time the poor baby! But you are right . . . when he wakes up 👀 He is so confused lol. In fact, enjoy a little piece:

A soft surface beneath him felt strangely comforting against his back, but the sight of the stars whizzing by outside the familiar red-tinted glass disoriented him. 

The robotic feminine voice of the scouting pod continued to drone on in the background, its words barely registering as Max struggled to make sense of the situation. 

“. . . initiating vapor bath reversal protocol. You are now one parsec away from your destination. . . ”

Limbs moving slowly, body trying to regain control, Max felt the seat surface behind him gently rise, before lowering again. His heart skipped a beat as he realized he was in the scouting pod meant for Charles to flee Jos’ base ship.

Stunned, Max whipped around to discover that the soft surface his back had been resting against was Charles’ chest, still moving gently with each slow breath. 

Relief flooded through him when he spotted the Eldri resting behind him, still unconscious, but seemingly unharmed.

His relief was short-lived, when the memories of the launch deck came rushing back.