#fixer x oc

[vodika-vibes]

Okay I’m just gonna jump and ask for a piece with Rynn and Delta Squad. It can be anything you want: fluffy, spicy, smutty, etc (I won’t be complaining 😉)

What Works For Us

Summary: Rynn (oc) wakes up alone in bed, and suddenly finds herself in a new situation.

Pairing: Delta Squad x Rynn (oc) (no clonecest)

Word Count: 1591

Warnings: Smut, just smut

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This was hard, there were so many people to keep track of. And I'm not super happy with it, but I don't think I can make it better either.

Rynn groans as sleep abandons her, and she rolls over, intent to bury herself in Sev’s chest until she can fall back to sleep, and is surprised when she realizes that she’s alone in bed. 

She sits up and squints, puzzled, at Sev’s side of the bed. He never wakes up early when she’s in bed with him. Ever. He guards his morning kisses and cuddles with all of the ire of a particularly foul tempered rancor.

And yet, his side of the bed is cold. 

She yawns, and stretches her arms over her head, working out the kinks that develop from the way she sleeps, and then she sends a lazily tendril of the force through the ship, looking for her husband…or husbands, as the case may be.

She finds him quickly, the Nightwing is only so big after all, and determines that all four of Delta seem to be awake and chatting in what amounts to the ship's living room. 

For a moment, she considers sending a comm, telling him to come back to bed. But hunger wins out in the end.

With a sigh, she shimmies to the end of the bed, and pulls on Sev’s shirt so she’s not walking around totally naked, and heads towards the door. She shoots out one last tendril through the force, to make sure that they aren’t on a holo (she would need to dress properly and cover her hair if they were), and as soon as she determines that they’re not, she presses the button to let the door slide open.

Silently Rynn pads her way through the ship, until she reaches the room her boys are in. “Morning,” She greets through a yawn.

Four pairs of identical eyes snap to her, and there’s a swell of affection through the force, pulling a sleepy smile to Rynn’s lips, “Did we wake you, sarad?” Sev asks as you slide between him and Boss on the couch.

She shakes her head and then lays her head on his shoulder, “Not sure why I woke up,” Rynn admits before she yawns again, and rubs her nose against his shoulder, “Why’re you all awake?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Boss says lightly, as he trails a calloused finger over her knee, “You can go back to bed if you want, cyare.”

She favors him with a small smile, “I’m okay. I should probably shower and get dressed though.”

Sev’s arm slides around her waist, and she squeaks when his lips press just below her ear, “You don’t have to,” He says in a low voice, “It’s just us here.”

“And I disconnected the holo terminal for the day.” Fixer added, his dark eyes dragging across Rynn’s face, “So no one will bother us.”

Rynn’s gaze is slightly startled as she listens to Fixer, and then her eyes narrow, “What are you four up to?”

Identical mischievous grins slide across their faces, and Rynn squeaks in surprise when Sev expertly peels his shirt off of her body, “We were thinking,” Sev says lazily, as his hands slide up her body to lazily caress her breasts, “That you’ve been working too hard.” Rynn’s breath hitches as Sev expertly tweaks her nipples.

Her head tilts back slightly, and she’s only a little surprised when she feels Boss’ lips against her pulse point, “There are four of you and one of me,” She points out, “How do you expect this to go without me doing more work?” 

She jumps when she feels warm lips on her hip, and a quick glance to the side shows her that Scorch has moved around the room, so he’s kneeling before her, there’s mischief on his handsome face, “Oh, babe.” He coos, “If you think this is work, then we’re not doing this right at all.”

Rynn flushes slightly, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

The four men share a look, “Well,” Boss says slowly, his breath warm against her throat, “Today happens to be our decanting day.”

Rynn blinks and then she feels a surge of guilt, “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me, I would have gotten you presents-”

“Shh,” Sev catches her lips in a deep kiss, and she sighs into him, “We didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter to us until recently.”

“And so we were talking,” Fixer murmurs as he circles the room to press a light kiss to the back of her neck, “And we came to a decision that we’d like your input on.”

Rynn tilts her head, curiously, “Okay?”

“Our schedule works out amazing,” Scorch says as his lips linger on her hip, “But today, we don’t want to stick to the schedule.”

Rynn shoots him a puzzled look, “I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“We want you. All of us.” Fixer clarifies, shooting his brother an exasperated look. “If you’ll indulge us.”

Rynn flushes as heat shoots straight to her core, and she ducks her head, “Um…how would-”

“Are you saying you’ve never considered it?” Sev asks, amusement clear in his voice.

Somehow she flushes even more, and she squirms slightly, pressing her thighs together tightly, “Um…not seriously, no.”

There’s a flicker of delight through the force, and Rynn flushes even darker, “But you have considered it, then.” Scorch says lightly.

“I agreed to marry all four of you, is it really a surprise that I thought about other things involving all of you?” Rynn asks defensively.

“Not in the slightest,” Boss reassures, “It just makes this conversation so much easier.” He kisses her temple gently, “Our plan is that by the end of the day you’ll have had all of us, at least twice.”

“Twice-” Rynn repeats under her breath.

“But this morning, babe, this morning we would like you to put on a show for us.” Scorch picks up the line of thought effortlessly.

Sev rolls his eyes, “What he means, sarad, is that Fixer put together some new toys for you to try out, and we’d like to watch.”

“Here?” Rynn asks, “On the couch?”

“If you don’t mind.” Fixer says, before he vanishes into his room and returns with a small box of something, as well as a blanket. Rynn guesses that the boy has the toys in it.

Her boys pull away from her, and Rynn gets to her feet long enough for Fixer to adjust the couch so it’s laying flat, and he lays the thick blanket across the couch for her to sit on.

Rynn slides into the middle of the blanket, and accepts the box from Fixer, and she pulls the toys out. She can feel her boys staring at her, their gazes heavy as she examines the toys curiously. 

“I recognize most of these,” Rynn says thoughtfully, “But what’s this?” She holds up a small device, about the length of half her finger. 

Fixer’s fingers twitch, and he lightly takes the item from her fingers, “Let me show you,” He sits on the couch next to her, and pulls a remote from the box, “Lay back, angel,” Fixer murmurs, his fingers gentle as he directs her to lay on her back.

Sev’s calloused hands glide against her legs, spreading them so he and his brothers can see properly, “There you go, sarad,” He murmurs, “Look at you, so pretty for us.”

“She’s already wet,” Scorch groans, “Pretty girl’s been wanting this for a while, I think.”

Fixer slides the vibrator through her slick, and then presses it against her clit, “High or low, do you think?” He asks his brothers.

“Low,” Boss instructs, “We don’t want to go too fast.”

Fixer uses the remote to turn on the toy, and Rynn’s hips jerk slightly, and a pretty moan falls from her lips. Her legs twitch as she unconsciously closes her legs around the sensation, but strong hands are suddenly there again, holding her legs open.

“So much for just watching,” Boss chuckles as he lovingly strokes Rynn’s thigh. Opposite of him, Sev presses a lingering kiss against Rynn’s thigh.

“It’s better this way,” Sev agrees, and apparently Scorch agrees as he moves to sit next to Rynn’s head, lightly stroking her cheek with his thumb, “This means that we can touch her, right?” He asks, as he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“You are touching her.” Fixer replies dryly, as he fiddles with the remote for a moment, and Rynn releases a whine of pleasure, as he increases the speed of the toy he’s holding against her. 

“Enjoying yourself, cyare?” Boss asks as he trails a finger over her hips and then dips down to trail his finger through her folds, pulling another moan from her as she squirms. He gathers some of her slick on his fingers and then licks his fingers clean, “Tastes amazing,” He groans.

“Pretty sure that’s cheating,” Sev grumbles.

“10 am, which means what I say goes,” Boss replies smugly, his gaze locked on Rynn’s cunt, “Kriff, I want to taste her.”

“Hold on a minute,” Fixer murmurs, “Look at her, she’s close-”

And true to his word, not a moment later Rynn releases a shuddering moan as she falls apart under the toy still pressed against her. 

“Stars, she’s beautiful,” Fixer mumbles, as he pulls the toy away and sets it to the side, “You’re up, Boss.” He adds as he moves out of the way.

“Gladly,” He switches places with Fixer, “You ready, cyare?”

Rynn glances at him, her gaze slightly hazy, but she favors him with a warm, loving, smile and she nods.

[i-write-sin-not-tragedy]

*throws low quality dustcloud at you and runs*

[bnbc]

it's summer again!

_____

don't reupload my content to other sites

[branch-wdk53]

Additional Iron Maiden stuff.

[arcsimper5]

Yaim'ol - Chapter 1

yaim'ol - [yai-MOHL] - return, homecoming

Pairing: Sev x F!Jedi OC, Scorch x F!Jedi OC Characters: Delta Squad (Republic Commando), F!Jedi OC Cin Rating: M - Explicit content in later chapters Warnings: Gore, Canon-typical violence, angst, smut (later chapters), descriptions of injury, force osik.

Following on from the end of Republic Commando, Sev and Cin must make their way through the galaxy, overcoming trials and tests in a bid to keep themselves alive long enough to reunite with their squad.

Chapter 1 - Evac

Cin grinned at Boss as the flash of the explosion faded from the outside of the ship, the Separatist cruiser floating silently in pieces in their view. 

Another mission down, and the relief was palpable. Even beneath this helmet, she could almost sense the smirk on Boss’s face as the orders from Command came through their comms.

“Delta Squad, regroup at 38’s position for exfil.”

“Finally,” Scorch chuckled, Boss looking to Cin as she let out a snort of laughter, practically able to image Fixer’s eyeroll at his brother’s exclamation.

Moving towards the door hatch, Boss gestured for Cin to go ahead, the metal parting to allow them back into the main hull when another crackle of comms came through, the words making Cin’s blood run cold.

“Boss, I’ve got a problem here.”

The clatter of plasteel armour drew their attention into the hallway as Scorch and Fixer arrived from their positions, the tension in their bodies apparent. Boss’s demeanour shifted immediately, shoulders tensing.

“Sev, where are you?”

The static on the line got worse, pain lacing Sev’s tone, Cin’s hands beginning to tremble.

“Sector… multiple hostiles… Sir!”

“Sev!” Cin gasped, reaching out in the Force. He was panicked, she could feel that much. And Sev never panicked.

“Boss, we have to go,” she urged, Fixer stepping forward with urgency.

“Lost his signal, Boss.”

There was barely a beat before the Commando’s growl sounded.

“Well find it again, dammit!”

Hearing Boss curse sent another shiver down Cin’s spine, her entire body alight with the need for action. She needed to run, to get to Sev. Who knew what he was facing, alone?

After his first capture by the Trandoshans on the Prosecutor, she’d vowed to never let him suffer like that again. And yet…

“Squad, regroup,” Boss barked, moving past Scorch to look down the corridor, towards where they’d dropped Sev off in his gunner position. He would have done anything in the moment, anything, to see a flash of red and white, to hear the growl of his brother’s voice. “We’re going after Sev.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from Scorch, his body language betraying the urgency he felt.

But only a few steps into retracing their steps, Boss and Fixer stopped dead, COmmand ringing in their ears once more.

“Negative, negative 38! New orders came through from the Jedi Generals. Clear the area. Evac, now!”

Boss growled loudly, looking to Cin in confusion.

“What orders?” she demanded, gritting her teeth. Every moment they waited for answers was another moment Sev was along, and she hated it. “I’m a General, I’ve given no orders.”

With a nod, Boss voiced his agreement.

“I don’t care if they came from Master Yoda himself…”

“As a matter of fact, they did, soldier” Command snapped back, shutting down any argument. “Now get your squad out of there.”

The comm line went dead, leaving a deafening silence in it’s wake.

Scorch scoffed, shaking his head as he looked to Boss, then to Cin, visibly trembling.

“Kriff our orders!” he shouted angrily. “40?”

Fixer was stiff, looking up the corridor, then to Boss, pointedly ignoring Scorch.

“He’s right, Boss,” he managed after a moment, voice tight, “we gotta evac.”

Scorch took a step backwards in disbelief, towards Cin, looking for support from her.

“Boss,” he practically pleaded, voice thick even through his modulator, “we have to go back…”

“Deltas! Evac now!” Command came through again, having listened to the chatter, “That is an order.”

Boss was truly caught, his heart and his head warring inside him.

“Alor…”

Cin’s gentle words and the feel of a hand creeping between his pauldron and shoulder bell caught his attention, soft green eyes shining as she looked him over.

“We can’t disobey orders,” he croaked, understanding already.

“I know,” she nodded in return, fingers grazing the blacks underneath his armour, just barely. Enough for him to feel her warmth, and her his. “Go. I’ll find him. I’ll bring him back.”

Scorch inhaled sharply, tearing his helmet off as he moved to Cin, tears tracking down his cheeks.

“Ner kar’ta, no,” he pleaded, Boss inclining his head in anger. 

“Scorch,” he reprimanded him, but the commando ignored him, pulling Cin towards him, pressing their foreheads together.

Cin let out a choked sob, unable to hold it in as the intimate action was initiated, barely able to resist pulling him into an embrace.

“We’ll be fine,” she reassured Scorch gently, tipping her head up enough to brush their lips together, Boss huffing in annoyance, “I’ll bring Sev back. I promise.”

“What about Master Yoda’s order?” Fixer interjected sharply, “You’d be defying him directly.”

“And the Council can do what they want with me when I get back to Coruscant,” she frowned, pulling away from Scorch and nodding to Fixer before turning to Boss, her gaze defiant. “Now go. Before they charge you with treason. I’ve got this.”

“Cyare,” Boss grumbled lowly, feeling utterly helpless. Reaching for his hand, she linked their fingers together, squeezing quickly before she was gone, already marching down the corridor with an urgency they all felt. “Jate’kara. Come back to us.”

They could only watch as she broke into a sprint, igniting the pale blue blade of her lightsaber. And then she was gone, out of sight when she rounded the corner, leaving the three of them to the empty silence of space, waiting for their evac.

[answer2jeff]

fixer-upper. // lip gallagher

lip x biker-girl!OC

warnings : public sex, oral (m!receiving), praise kink, light to rough hair-pulling, unestablished relationship, intense and obvious flirting, porn with plot and detail, mentions of smoking (tobacco), cursing, OC is just as full of herself as Lip, knows she's a bitch, kinda has a weird sense of possessiveness over him?? clunky and overly detailed writing with a journaling/diary style.

authors note : trying something a little different! using the first person POV with an original character. first time writing this way—still getting the hang of it <3 this is REALLY long...sorry.

song : beauty school.

disclaimer : you can picture the OC however you like! her name is really just used for aesthetic purposes. there isn't much description on her appearance other than the fact that her hair is long enough to put it in a ponytail. enjoy!

Great. Fucking great.

One of my tires is punctured. The visor in my helmet is cracked. My elbows are etched with surface level scratches and dried blood. And the engine cover of my bike has finally snapped off. I had it coming. It was an old piece of rusty junk from my cousins garage sale from 2012, anyway. But it had charm. I knew I was gonna miss that bike for the good couple of hours, possibly days, I would reluctantly end up leaving it in a repair shop down the street from my apartment.

I can hear the squelch of skin, the seal between my hot breath and sweaty skin breaking as lift my helmet from my head. I hope to feel a rush of cool air, but the humidity tells me to go fuck myself. I'm pulled over onto the curb. I can't totally remember how I got there; being in the middle of the street on a scorching summer day wearing denim shorts that chafe up my inner thighs and rub my skin until it is raw and red and unbearably itchy, was not my vision for today. My handlebars are loose. That would explain it.

If I just take it to Born Free Cycles, leave it overnight, and come back in the morning, I can act like this whole thing never happened, and I'm not horribly irresponsible.

40th West View Ave.

Oh. I'm close actually. Barely a block away. I should go there now. I can call Mikey and have him drop me and the bike off at the garage. I'll see that kid with the grown out buzz-cut and black motor grease on his knuckles that somehow always transfers and blots on his face. Specifically on his strong jaw and right before the peak of his hairline. I wonder if he notices. Maybe he doesn't clean it off because it gives him edge that he doesn't need. Like the nickname on his name tag on a black uniform hadn't given his thirst for trouble away already. And the circles under his eyes are almost the same shade of smudged charcoal grey.

I wonder if he notices.

—

"So the engine cover popped? Just—" he shrugs, looking up at me as if I can't understand him "clean off?"

The sunlight bleeds in through the open garage door. It shines behind Lip, casting a shadow that makes his face hard to see perfectly. But I know the look he's conveying. His eyebrows are raised but drawn slightly closer together, his teeth are gnawing at the inside of his cheek so he can stifle a smile and the laugh that will follow soon after, and his blinks remain slow. I try not to smile too. But I fail.

I've only been here about 3 times, really. The first time was to get handlebar grips from Eddie. That was when I saw Lip. I chose not to make any kind of move, but it ate at my insides until the second time. That time was with Mikey. I was preoccupied with the blue-eyed kid, propped up on a workbench and throwing mindless flirty implications at him while he took long drags from a cigarette, to remember why Mikey was even doing there and why he dragged me along with him. His laugh, the playful eye-roll after I complimented his sweat-laden blonde curls weighed down by heat humidity, told me he was on board.

But I wasn't done.

I knew this time I'd pounce for what was mine.

"Yeah," I breathe out, crossing my arms and peering down at him, "And I mighta' been redlining the RPM a little too much. Probably fried the fucking thing."

Lip nods, the corner of his mouth curling up just a bit. He beckons his hand toward himself, telling me to kneel down beside him to inspect the bike. "This things kinda old, huh?" He teases, turning his head to me and finally letting a real smile break. It warms something in me. I shrug. He glances at my white tank-top, covered in black stains of dirt and oil.

"It's not great, no. It's a piece of shit. But it's cute!" I play along with him, taking the hairband on my wrist and twisting my hair into a high ponytail. Lip huffs though his nose, shaking his head and laughing again.

The next couple of minutes are filled with him telling me things I already know. Things I was too exhausted to manage on my own, defeating the whole purpose of why I was here. Fuck the bike. I know what's wrong with the bike. I know it's an old piece of junk and it's barely salvageable. You should know why I'm here. And maybe you do. But you should do something about it.

Lip has this way of speaking to me that feels ridiculously sweet and overly 'cool.' I know it's just his cadence and his cockiness, but I like it. I like that he thinks it makes me swoon. Partially because he's right, but mostly because I've mastered hiding it. He doesn't see my heart pound or the rising heat in my abdomen when he cracks his knuckles or puts a hand on my shoulder and let's it travel down to the small of my back when I crouch down beside him to look at another motorcycle he's trying to save. I'm almost certain he convinces himself that my gestures are nothing more than a meaningless flirt. I simply find him attractive, as does everyone. Nothing more.

But he's got it all wrong.

He knows my intentions somewhat well enough to the point where he can't not flirt back, though. He knows I haven't stopped him from letting his eyes travel from mine to my lips whenever I speak. He likes that I let him light my cigarettes for me. But he doesn't know this isn't just for fun. I'm so hyper-aware that it isn't out of the kindness of his heart. And neither are his compliments and lame jokes he makes to impress me. He treats my attraction to him as fact, but my genuine interest as a possibility.

Again, he's wrong.

I can't wrap my head around how he could reciprocate my efforts without ever pushing the envelope and asking to exchange numbers, or if I had a boyfriend, or maybe he had one of his own. No, no. He'd tell me if he had a girlfriend. He is, above all else, loyal.

Lip's what I want. I meant when I said his hair looked nice. I meant when I gave him a 20-dollar gratuity and a peck on his cheek just for giving me a repair cost estimate on my shattered headlight. I smile any time he says my name: Maeve.

Hey Maeve, back so soon, huh?

Hand me that box, Maeve.

Y'alright, Maeve?

Yo, Maeve, wanna bum one?

Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

—

"Think you'll be back tomorrow to pick it up? No rush, though. I can keep it 'till you're ready," Lip asks me, leaning against the wooden workbench littered with microfiber towels and tools. His swell arms are crossed to his chest. I nod, coating my fingertips with a thin film of spin while I fish out some cash from my beat up faux leather wallet.

"A-huh. Thanks," I hand him 6 twenties before glancing at the opening of his button-down uniform.

The corner of my mouth lifts itself into a knowing smirk, my hand on my hip as I shift my weight to it, making my chest stick out and my spine bend correspondingly. My lips hang open a measly centimeter apart before I draw the bottom one between my teeth. I watch him sort through the cash, biting down harder on the flesh of my lip when he freezes.

"Looks like you're a good 15 short," he barely mumbles, looking up at me through his eyelashes. His brows narrow down to me again. I click my tongue coyly. I step closer to him, my hand, with fingernails painted black, pushing the cash in his palms down and his arms down with it.

"About that..." I pause, tilting my head with a look of naivety and not bothering to push away the strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail and over my eye. Instead, I wait and let Lip set the pile of cash down and draw the curtain of my hair open to reveal my face. My stomach twists on itself, and I can practically feel his chest rising and falling with every anxious breath in my own lungs.

I beg to whatever higher power lies above us in this garage that a kiss will work. Not that it usually doesn't, but my form isn't as confident as it typically would be. The guys I wrap around my finger aren't as driven as Lip is. And God, none of them are part of my tantalizing daydreams nearly as often as he is. I picture his rough hands exploring me, squeezing and rubbing over the valleys of my skin. I imagine his breath is hot with the taste of mint and cigarettes. Every part of me wants to know if my predictions are accurate. If he's the type to sink his teeth into my neck and shoulder blades just to apologize to the reddening skin with open-mouthed kisses. The anticipation kills me. It's enough to swallow me whole.

"...Maybe I can pay you back a different way?"

I barely whisper and Lip scoffs, glancing away from my gaze, scanning the area just for it to be completely empty. He comes back to me. His eyes go a little wider than before. Almost to say, 'oh shit, you're serious?' I stick my tongue between my teeth and tug on his uniform, feeling the fabric rub between my sweaty fingertips. My eyes watch Lip's adam's apple bob as he swallows a breath.

"Yeah?" He thumbs my bottom lip and pulls it down, his free hand traveling down to my hip and pulling me closer to him, "what were y'thinking, Maeve?"

"Mmmm," I hum while pressing my hand against his chest while the other cups his cheek, and I let the pad of my thumb graze over the grove of his defined cheekbones. "Dunno yet."

My teasing is much to Lip's dismay, but he handles it quite well. It's sobering to see a guy as seemingly self-involved and easily impressed play into my mind games. It only pushes me further, and he knows it. I crash my lips into his, my hands anchoring themselves on his shoulders for support. He sighs into me, a hand reaching down to hook a finger through the belt loop of my shorts and drag me closer to him. His hand cups my cheek and pulls me into his mouth to let his tongue slip past my own. And he tastes just as I expected. Minty, smoky, and mine. I practically grind my self onto him in complete desperation, feeling him harden under me. Every roll of his hips threatens to send me over the edge. And fuck, his muffled groans of pleasure against my mouth that ring in my ears are hypnotic. But even with his sturdy, growing buldge forcing the fabric of my shorts to press roughly on my clit, I need this to last.

Blissfully and ever so slowly.

I finally pull away to catch my breath, the buck of our waists slowing down. My head feels fuzzy and heat rises in my cheeks when I open my eyes to see how flushed Lip's face is. Even the tips of his ears have turned a little red. I smile, giggling like a teenager who just kissed her crush in a closet at a house party as a dare. He laughs back in a way that asks 'what are we even doing?'

"Thought you had a boyfriend."

I pause, my eyebrows knitted. I try to think of who he could possibly be referring to.

Ah.

"Who? Mikey?" I try not to laugh, looking around to the imaginary audience to check if they're really hearing this nonsense too, "ew, no. He's like my brother."

Lip lets out a breath of relief he almost didn't realize he'd been holding. It surprises me. Probably a lot more than it should. But hey, for the other 3 times I've been here, I kept asking myself why his flirting was just as intense as mine, but he never asked for my number or made a true move on me. To think that my friend had been unintentionally cockblocking me with his ridiculous height and horrid American traditional tattoos all over his arms, and it wasn't because the guy had a girlfriend...it's almost funny.

"Oh," he replies, his eyebrows raising. Now both of his hands rest at my hips.

"What? Is that why you left me hangin' when I did this?" I press a kiss against his cheek, my palm rubbing over his shoulder to pull a chuckle out of him.

"I guess so, yeah. Just didn't want him to kill me for getting to close t'you," he kisses my cheek, smiling again.

"Geez. Mikey wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. He just...looks scary. Plus, nobody tells me what to do."

"Noted. Glad to hear that, actually."

"Mikey is—" I pause, biting the inside of my cheek "a sweet guy."

"Uh-huh."

"Too sweet. And I hate the aftershave he uses. He's—he's entirely too much."

"Mm."

"Whatever. Shut up."

"Didn't say anything," he shrugs, trying and failing to act clueless.

Fuck. He's fucking glad. He's glad I don't have a stupid-waste-of-my-time-cockblocking-boyfriend on my hip who's constantly watching my every move and stopping me from giving all of myself to Lip. Hell, I'm glad too. Very glad. With one swift movement, I take matters into my own hands again. I undo every last plastic button on his uniform, snaking down his chest and abdomen. I latch onto his neck, biting the skin and sucking a bruising hickey. He shivers beneath me and wraps his hand around my ponytail, huffing breathless chuckles and slowly getting more and more frustrated with my agonizingly slow, torturing pace for foreplay.

I bend my knees to begin my descend to the ground, kissing down his torso. My hands travel down his sides. Lip gently lets go of my hair to lean back into the workbench, never letting his head reel back so he can carefully watch me tenderly adhere to his needs while anchoring his hands behind him for support. I giggle to myself, relishing in the affect I have on him.

Shit. This is risky. Screw it. Pretty girl without a boyfriend who tips in 20 dollar bills and blowjobs? How could I say no? No part of me wants to back out, Lip's mind races, his grip tightening on the wooden slab as he clenches his jaw.

I wonder if he's nervous. Or maybe he's done this time and time again: fucking a girl right in this garage. Possibly bent over this very work bench. Those girls must've been so easy. I can bet on my life that they were never as fun, never as wet, never as needy as me. This would be different. I wouldn't give him everything he wanted and more that quickly. A girl deserves to have her fun. She deserves to watch the overly confident guy she's fancied for weeks, who continues to play hard to get, squirm and writhe with every slight of hand she gives him.

And that's exactly what I'm doing.

"Y'having fun down there?" Lip chastises me, chuckling lightly to himself as he tilts his head down to get a better look at my face.

My kisses stop right above the waistband of his jogger pants. I look up at him pleadingly through my lashes, my eyes big with lust and cunning seduction. I pull the middle of the waistband down just so I can drag my tongue across the exposed skin just centimeters away from his cock. The curls of his happy trail tickle my chin, but the full body shiver and the shaky exhale of "fuck," as he tries to keep his composure, makes it so worth it. He finally shuts his eyes, head reeling back. I lick my lips and smile, cupping his groin before he can even think about looking back down and feeling the blood rush to his cock again. His twitching dick underneath my palm sends me sitting on my heel, ready to slowly rock my hips down into it to fill my desperate need for friction. My cotton panties are definitely soaked.

I can't waste any more time.

I remove my hand from his crotch and quickly pull his pants and his boxers down with them. They pool at his ankles, and his cock strains hard and leaking sticky, crystal clear pre-cum from the thick and aching tip. My mouth nearly drops. I admire every vein, letting my hand wrap around the base of his cock once I've spit into it as makeshift lubricant. I'm so lost that I don't even register Lip peering down at me, swallowing impatiently.

"My, you're so worked up, Lip. And I haven't even started." I don't bother to look up at him as I rub my hand up and down his shaft, worried his pretty face will distract me. But I can picture him perfectly.

"Fuck you," he huffs through a struggled laugh, covering his mouth as he groans in pleasure at the feeling of my hand squeezing his cock every once and a while as I slowly pump him up and down.

"Later," I retort. I bite down on my bottom lip, looking up at him again for permission. He nods, almost as if he's able to read my mind. My eyes shut and my stomach flutters. Soft lips cover the head, swirling my tongue over the slit. His tip leaves my mouth with a loud pop, and I lick a bold stripe along the thickets vein I can find.

"Jesus, fuck, Maeve!" He writhes, his breath hitched in his throat by me hollowing out my cheeks and taking nearly 3/4 of his total length into my mouth. Moans of pure bliss at the feeling of his cock enveloped by the wet warmth of my mouth echo through the garage. I fear he's too loud, but I decide not to care. Not now.

My hand pumps the rest of his cock that I don't fit into my mouth at the moment, while my free hand reaches for his. My eyes remain closed and my sucking maintains a steady pace as I bob my head up and down his cock. I grab his hand and set it on the top of my head, but he hesitates.

"W—you sure, Maeve? I don't wanna hurt you," he swallows, accidentally bucking his hips into my mouth and running his unoccupied hand through his sweaty curls. I detach myself from him, wiping the mixture of pre and spit from the corner of my mouth and finally looking up at him.

"You won't," I take a deep breath, "I won't let you. I'll tell you if 's too much, kay?"

"Okay. Maybe just—" he clears his throat "tap my leg 3 times? And I'll...uh—I'll let go? Yeah?" He looks beautiful. Flushed, bare, and oh so needy for my touch. I wish I could keep him like this forever. He's so compliant, so understanding. But part of me knows that once I let him do this, it'll show me the side of him I've really been praying to see.

I nod, smiling contently and feeling myself blush when he twirls his fingers around my ponytail again. He bends over just the smallest bit to cup my chin and smile back. The pad of his thumb grazes over my skin before he lets go. I take it as my sign to go back, pressing my hands against either of his thighs and feeling clit jump with excitement when Lip tugs at my hair the moment I take his cock into my mouth again. I bob my head up and down, my eyes rolling back when his tip hits the back of my throat. Tears prick at my waterline as I struggle not to cough.

I grow even more desperate. My hand dives into my shorts and I slide two of my fingers inside of me, unfortunately never living up to the potential size and feeling of Lip's. The continuous ram into my gummy and tender spot causes me to fall apart, whining with his dick occupying the space in my mouth.

"Oh my God," Lip nearly whines, his grip tightening as he guides my head up and down his dick, but it's so gentle it never startles me, "so fuckin' good, baby. Jesus, fu—ah..keep doin' that. Yes, fuck.."

My tongue swishes over and under his cock in mind-numbing patterns, and I can't help but let little muffled moans escape my throat and vibrate against him. He almost can't contain himself: bucking his hips and practically fucking my throat. I do my best to cancel out the occasional gag so quickly he won't feel guilty and possibly stop.

Use me, I think.

Usually, I'd take the lead, never letting a head pusher take the role. But not this time. Lip's so pent up, so stressed with the complexities of his life. This is a kind gesture. One that involves tears of struggle spilling out of my eyes and streaming down ky cheeks. But fuck, I love it. It's filthy. It's nasty the way I nearly suck him dry. I can't remember the last time a blowjob was this fun.

"Such a good girl. Y'know that?" He looks down at me, biting his lip as his eyebrows knit in pleasure and desperate need to cum down my pretty little throat, "how'd you get so fuckin...so fuckin' good at this, baby? Shit—feels so good."

He babbles over and over again, and I'm taking strategic breaths through my nose and speeding the pace of my fingers as they thrust in and out of me so I don't stop him from releasing the way he absolutely deserves. Finally, he pulls my ponytail tighter than he ever has, warning me that he's about to cum, but by the time he tells me, it sends down my throat. He groans out, releasing my hair and going limp. I swallow the salty substance, blinking out the last few tears in my eyes and sliding my fingers out of me.

—

Lip: 1 message.

Hey. 11:47pm

Hey. Miss me already? 11:52pm

Something like that, yeah. 11:56pm

What's up 11:58pm

I get off early tomorrow. Just wondering if you wanted to come by the shop and hang out for a bit? 11:59pm

Sure. See you then. xoxo 12:03am.

—

current taglist : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

[ereardon]

The Stranger [Bradley Bradshaw x OC]

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw left an impression — after finding him naked and passed out after a night of drinking in your front yard, he’s anxious to never see you again in his life and relive the embarrassment. But there’s something about him you just can’t let go. He’s a project, and you hate to admit you love a fixer upper. Bradley is hesitant to let you in, but you’re persistent. Is he making a massive mistake?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x OC

A/N: This is a sneak peek of an unfinished WIP!

You were pouring your morning coffee, Cracker Barrel mug in one hand and coffee pot in the other, when you spotted him through the edge of the front window. 

The sun was just beginning to rise, peeling back the darkness from the night before, and you spotted what could only be an arm flung across the green grass of your front lawn. 

Stepping out onto the deck, you squinted. The grass was wet from the rain shower that had hit in the early morning and the street was eerily quiet. You looked around. There were no cars parked nearby. 

And yet, somehow there was a fully nude man lying face down on your lawn. 

You put the cup of coffee down gently, slid off your slippers and tiptoed tentatively down the path and onto the grass, bending down to see if you were about to call the cops with a homicide investigation. And then you watched his chest rise with a breath and you sighed out, hand on your heart. 

“Thank God,” you muttered. You stood back up and took him in. He was tall, or long considering he was just laying there in the grass. Curled brown hair, tanned and incredibly muscular arms, back and legs. And a nice fucking ass if you did say so. Leaning back down, you tapped his shoulder. “Um, hi?” 

The man groaned but remained on his stomach so you circled your fingers around his upper arm and shook harder. 

“Hello? Excuse me.” 

“Shit,” the guy groaned, rolling over and flopping onto his back, giving you a clear view of his package. Your eyes went wide, but you couldn’t tear yourself away. He also had a perfect six pack, but you were staring a bit south of the border. He rubbed his eyes and finally looked up at you. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Caroline,” you said, crossing your arms. “And you’re naked, by the way.” 

“Fuck,” he said, scrambling to cover himself and then wincing in pain, one hand coming up to his head. 

You shook your head and sighed, uncrossing your arms and shrugging off your blue robe. “Here, put this on.” 

He stood and accepted it, tying it around his waist but it was tight. “Thanks.” 

“Come inside,” you said, turning on a heel and heading back toward the walk. “You can take a shower if you want. Call someone to come get you.” 

He followed you, head hung. “Where am I?”

You grabbed the coffee mug you had deserted on the steps and opened the door. “You’re on Miguel Ave. A few blocks from the golf course.” 

He nodded and stepped inside. You pointed up the stairs. “Take a left at the top of the stairs. Guest bath is the third door on the right. There should be towels and a bigger robe if you need it.” 

He stepped onto the stairs and then turned around, giving you a quizzical look. “Why are you being so nice to me? I’m a stranger. I’m a naked stranger.” 

You laughed. “You think I haven’t seen my fair share of drunk idiots? I went to Tulane. I knew what happened to you the minute I saw you.” 

He simply nodded and ascended the stairs. You chuckled and walked into the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, there were cautious footsteps in the hallway beyond the kitchen and you turned around to see the guy from the lawn wearing your ex’s old flannel robe, his dark hair damp but clean. He had a mustache and a uniquely handsome face. You wouldn’t have immediately called him attractive if it wasn’t for how he carried himself. Even hungover and wearing a bathrobe in a stranger’s home, he had a charisma you could sense through his walk alone. 

“Take a seat,” you said, motioning to the dining table and he nodded, sitting down. You slid a cup of water and a cup of juice over, and then a mug of coffee and a plate of bacon. “Do you eat meat?” 

He chuckled and grabbed a slice. “Definitely.” 

“Good,” you said, returning to the stove and pulling off the pan of eggs, dropping some scrambled eggs into a dish and walking over to the table, taking the seat at the end and pushing one bowl of eggs over to him. “So, remember anything yet?”

He lifted a forkful of eggs to his mouth, chewed thoughtfully. “Bits and pieces. I want to say it involved a dare and a bottle of Jack Daniels.” 

You laughed and took a sip of coffee. “God, how old are you?” 

He smiled and you realized just how attractive of a smile it was. “I’m Bradley,” he said. 

You nodded. 

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” he asked. 

“I told you outside?” 

He shook his head. “Fuck, sorry.” 

“Caroline,” you offered and he smiled. 

“Caroline,” he repeated. “Nice name.” 

You leaned back in the chair. “Do you need to borrow my phone?” He nodded and you unlocked your phone, sliding it across. You didn’t even realize until he stared at the home screen for a moment that it was still a picture of your ex and his dog. 

“Boyfriend?” he asked, lifting the phone into his large hands and scrolling for the dial pad. 

You shook your head. “Not anymore. I keep forgetting to change it.” 

He nodded carefully and hit a few buttons, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Bob, hey, it’s Rooster. Listen, I uh, I need a ride. Yeah, one second.” He pulled the phone away. “What’s your address?” 

“4502 Miguel Ave.”

He repeated the address into the phone. “Oh, and bring me some clothes, please.” You heard laughing on the other end of the line before he hung up. He slid the phone back to you. “Thanks. He should be here in fifteen minutes.” 

“So which is it?” 

He squinted at you. 

“You introduced yourself to me as Bradley, but whoever Bob is, and he has a great laugh by the way, apparently knows you as Rooster.” You slid your eyes over him. “Are you a stripper?”

“What?” he asked aghast and you laughed, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Cool if you are, no judgment here.” 

He shook his head, biting off another piece of bacon. “I’m a pilot. It’s a callsign. A sort of nickname.” 

“Pilot, huh?” 

[skrimblo]

GASP U LIKE LIMBUS AND EL FILI!!! DOES THOU HAV A EL FILI X LIMBUS OC??

HELLO YES I HAVE AN EL FILI LCB OC!!!! ME AND MY FRIEND (@DRENCHINFRENCH ON TWT) MADE THEM RAAAHHH

honestly these designs are more of like beta designs ig??? i plan on redesigning simoun like a little bit BUT this is how the sillies look like !! (Elias is the sinner, Simoun's the antagonist for Elias' canto, general lore is that Ibarra used to run an independent fixer office and Elias joined after getting saved and then things happened and now Ibarra is Simoun and Elias doesn't know theyre the same person(yet))

ALSO HERES A PORTRAIT OF ELIAS

MADE BY MY FRIEND NEIL @DRENCHINFRENCH PLEASE GIVE HIM SOME LOVE GRAAHHHHHH

[ma1dita]

jo's 23rd birthday bash! - the collection

thanks for celebrating with me! (note that these titles are so half-assed but i needed a way to organize them for this list; adding as i update)

last edited: 4/6

luke castellan

long distance (mdni)

long distance pt 2 (mdni)

18 (suggestive)

alone in cabin 3 (mdni)

keeping score (mdni)

wounded pride (fluff)

sick!bf!luke hcs (fluff)

luke x thanatos!reader hcs (fluff)

counting sheep (fluff)

driver's seat (mdni)

pinky promise (fluff)

in sickness & in health (trouble!verse, fluff)

jason grace

fixer upper (fluff)

work hard, party harder (fluff)

jason x eris!reader hcs (fluff)

remus lupin

more than friends, less than lovers (fluff)

sirius black

shape of you (fluff)

farleigh start

farleigh x foreign!reader hcs (fluff)

misc.

luke castellan x aphrodite!reader moodboard

luke castellan x athena!reader moodboard

luke castellan x oc moodboard

college!aaron x reader moodboard

fred weasley x oc moodboard

child of apollo headcannons

[vodika-vibes]

Welcome to my Masterlist version 3.0~

Well, actually, it’s a masterlist of my masterlists! I apparently had too many links for one masterlist and Tumblr said “lol, no.”

Anyway! Thank you for your patience while I sorted this whole mess out, and I hope you enjoy your stay!

Also! You can now give me a tip if that’s what makes you happy! But I certainly don’t expect you to do so! 

❤️❤️❤️ - Vod’ika

Rules - please read me if you're new!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist!

Writing Prompts

OC x Canon Characters Masterlist

Captain Keeli x Reader Masterlist

Other x Reader Masterlist - This masterlist currently consists of: Droidbait, Hevy, Sinker, Hound, Gregor and two of my own clone OCs

Clan Skirata x Reader Masterlist - This masterlist is currently made of up Darman, Mereel, Ordo, Atin, Prudii, A’den, Niner, Kom’rk, and Corr Skirata

Delta Squad x Reader Masterlist - Sev, Boss, Scorch, and Fixer

Mandalorian x Reader Masterlist - Consists of Boba Fett, Jango Fett, Jaster Mereel, and Mij Gilamar

Alpha-17 x Reader Masterlist - Consists of Alpha-17, poly Alpha x Reader x Fordo, Maze (Alpha-26)

501st x Reader Masterlist - currently consists of Echo, Fives, Rex, Tup, Dogma, Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase

TBB Masterlist - consists of Hunter, Crosshair, Echo, Tech, Wrecker, Howzer, and CX-2

Commanders x Reader Masterlist - currently comprised of: Wolffe, Neyo, Thire, Fox, Thorn, Monnk, Bacara, Cody, Bly, Doom, Colt, Mayday, and Gree

Multi-Character List

Magic and Knights AU Masterlist - Consisting of: Wolffe, Jesse, Fox, Fives, Cody, Gregor, Hound, Tup, Boba, Howzer, Rex, Kix, Echo, Hunter, Dogma, Alpha-17, Fordo, Keeli, Bly, Neyo, and Crosshair

Ahsoka Travels to the past AU - Part 1, Part 2

Follower Celebration Jan-Feb 2024 - Consisting of Cody, Rex, Fives, Echo, Dogma, Jesse, Wolffe, Alpha-17, Tech, Wrecker, Hound, Crosshair, Sev, and Fixer

500 Followers Event: March-April 2024 - Consisting of Fives, Kix, Rex, Clone Assassin, Hunter, Crosshair, Howzer, Tech, Keeli, Ezra Bridger, Fox, Tup, Dogma, Sev, Jesse, Echo, Wrecker, Jango, Cody, Boss, Alpha-17, Fordo, Darman Skirata, Scorch, Fixer, Colt, Wilco, Atin,

650 Followers Event: May - June 2024 - Consisting of Jango Fett, Boba Fett, Fox, Tup, Wrecker, Rex, Wolffe, Sev, Jesse, Cody, Mereel Skirata, Clone OC: Misfit, Fives, Hunter, Ordo Skirata, Dogma, Prudii Skirata, Crosshair, Alpha-17, Tech

Chapter 1 - Modern Star Wars AU - Commander Wolffe, Captain Rex, and Captain Gregor are trapped on an island where the rules are a little different than what they're used to.

[i-write-sin-not-tragedy]

Who would dustcloud threesome with? Like if they had their pick

Husk

[bnbc]

Rachel: Welcome everyone! Thank you for coming to my party. The outgoing year was for sure... Kou: ...a fucking disaster! Can't wait for this bitch to end already! Goro: Did you hack your liver again? Anyway, we should come back home as soon as possible. Wakako: 2023, huh? Ah, yes. That's a good year, my second husband died then. Meredith: How did I ever end up in Kazakhstan?

I wanted to take a generic 'happy new year' pic but my feelings about the past year turned out to be way too complicated for that xD

2023 you have one job: to be better than 2022. Don't you dare to let us down!

Happy New Year!

[luna-andra]

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Year One*

Summary: A little insight

Word count: 2k words

Author's note: I have returned! 🎉 if you're new to this story, you can read Chapter 1 here. Filler chapters will be marked with an * sign from here on out.

Ch 8 is posted!

Content: slow burn, fluff, retired au Ghost x OC, mentions of mental health, violence, eventual smut

Andra let out a sigh of relief as she read the email she received during her morning shift at the café. Her work visa had been approved for renewal. It was weighing on her for the past couple of weeks, stressing her to think she had submitted her documents too close to the deadline. Her current visa wasn’t due to expire until the end of the month, but now it wasn’t a cause for concern.

She didn’t have to plan for the possibility of returning to Texas anymore, so she closed out the tabs in her browser on her phone for apartments in her old area with a satisfied grin and a “good fucking riddance” to herself in the break room. The rest of her shift went smoothly with renowned happiness, having her smiling wider than she was before going on break.

Andra didn’t have many people to share the good news with, but her managers would have to suffice, and will be notified under the pretense of business.

“That’s good to hear,” Henry, her manager at her evening job, said with milquetoast optimism, “Won’t have to look for a new bartender for a whole ‘nether year, then.”

“Guess I’ll still be a thorn in your side for a while longer, Henry.”

He chortled at that. Andra got his dry humor now that she had been working for him for long enough. She swore he hated the shadow that followed behind her every step, muttering snide and sarcastic remarks any time she had questions on some of the items on the menu. It was when she quipped back about him being a pain in the ass and he smiled to himself did she start to feel less of an outsider to her new environment.

Andra had a run-in with a few of the locals that weren’t too keen on an American serving them. It was expected, a sobering reminder when she built her new life in the quaint village. Six months later and she has become their favorite American bartender, some of them checked in on how she’s coming along with her fixer-upper of a farmhouse out in the boonies.

“It’s comin’.” Andra drawled a little more than her baseline accent. “I got the paint for the living room, got the tarp laid down, and she should have a fresh coat of paint on her in the next few days.” She finished pouring a pint of cider and placed it down on the dampened coaster.

“Any plans for the farmland?” Mister Wade asked a few barstools down the counter.

Andra paid close attention to the whiskey she was pouring into the glass before answering. “Can’t say I’ve thought about it, I’m not much of a green thumb gal.”

She got a grunt of disapproval for that one. “These lands are fertile if ye treat em right. Even if it’s veg that yer growin’ for yourself, give it a go.”

The idea of starting her own little garden of produce and fruits brought a smile to her face. Now that she can actually think of long-term decisions, Andra might just consider the suggestion. “I’ll think on it, Mister Wade.”

“Call me Dean.” He raised his pint of cider before taking a generous swig.

“I’ll take these for you.” Warm hands took the collection of pint glasses from Andra’s hold.

Henry’s son, Sean, was the most welcoming and helpful when she started working at the pub. With Andra picking up the evening shifts, it gave Sean time to start college classes. When she had first walked in to Henry’s establishment, Andra could sense the rejection on the tip of his tongue as she was explaining her qualifications. Sean thankfully swooped in before Henry could say no, and she couldn’t have been more grateful.

She learned quickly his friendliness and warm smiles were an attempt to win her affections. It was difficult to ignore a good looking guy like Sean; ocean blue eyes, short, slicked back blonde hair, and fairly taller than Andra. He was too sweet of a guy. Sean deserved a woman with a clean background, someone that didn’t attract trouble.

“We should celebrate your prolonged stay.” Sean suggested with that stunning smile.

Andra could already feel Henry’s hardened stare before she looked to him. Sean might be unaware of what transpired back in the states, but Henry knew. They exchanged a subtle look of agreement before Andra returned her attention to Sean. “That’s nice of you to think of me Sean. I’m just really busy with my morning job as well, you know? And I wouldn’t want to pull you away from your studies. The sentiment is appreciated, though.”

He gave her a defeated grin. “Perhaps some other time, then. When we’re both not so busy.”

Henry turned away from their chatter and Andra let out a sigh. She was thankful that Sean took her rejections on the chin, and even more thankful for Henry feeling like one heavy discussion between the two of them was enough to get the message across.

-----

Payday came around and Andra made sure to get her loan payment from her dad paid right away before anything else. She always made sure to send a message to him just to let him know that it was done, paying double the minimum monthly payment to get it taken care of as soon as possible. Immediately after sending the message, there was an automated reply that pulled up in the messenger.

Message failed.

She paused in her tracks, stopping by the door of her used truck. She tried sending the same message, but the same message failed response came back.

Her heart constricted in her chest. Dad… blocked me?

The rest of the day, it plagued her mind. She desperately wanted to know what was going on back home. It’s not like they were on bad terms, he pulled out that loan to make sure it would cover the costs of her visa and passport, and even though he said not to worry about paying him back, Andra wasn’t accepting that answer.

Unless mom found out…

She closed her eyes and let out a deflated sigh. Of course, mom had to be behind this. She must have discovered the loan somehow, whether it be by snooping through dad’s emails or bank statements, a rogue letter from the loan company showing up in the mail that she happened to get her hands on. And she must have got access to the one source of communication she had with her dad and nixed it.

Tears clouded her vision, the ache in her chest deepening. Andra wondered when was the last time dad tried reaching out to her. Did he think she had blocked him? She looked over their messages to see what the last thing was she told him.

Lol thanks

A month ago.

A message she wished she had put more thought into, unsure of when the next time she would be able to tell her father that she loves him.

She could reach out to Ivan or Orion, but she didn’t want to run the risk of setting off mom. Ivan was graduating in June and was getting on that bus as soon as he could to go off to basic training.

Graduation…

Andra wasn’t going to be there for it. She already knew that she wasn’t going to be able to afford a plane ticket and a hotel to be there to see him walk the stage, but it felt heavier now that she couldn’t talk to dad about it.

All of a sudden, the elation she felt about her renewed visa turned to ash as she realized, she really was alone out here. In a country that still hasn’t truly become a place she could call home.

The drive to the farmhouse was silent. Her hands were shaky as she held the steering wheel, a little firmer than usual. She used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe away the rogue tears slipping. A silver truck was turning down her road just a few feet ahead and took another turn into the first dirt path. She was familiar with the vehicle of the one other person living off of the shared road, despite never introducing herself or running into the other person.

She was almost certain that they preferred privacy along with being blissfully unaware of her existence out here.

Fine by her.

Her brakes screeched as she came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a black and brown puppy meandering across the street. Andra opened the door and stepped out of the truck, approaching the puppy with caution.

“What are you doing out here all alone, sweet baby?”

The puppy’s ears perked up and it happily trotted to Andra, and she crouched down to meet the curious animal. It was so friendly, so sweet. Andra giggled at the onslaught of licks and kisses the puppy gave her, and she picked up the puppy with care.

“Thank you, thank you!” Her voice squeaked as she scratched the puppy’s bare neck. No collar, nothing to indicate that she has an owner. Andra walked around the front of the truck to see if there were any others. No litter, no mother, no other dogs in sight.

Her smile faltered. “Were you left out here, sweetie?”

The puppy’s hot breath fanned her face as it continued its demonstration of affection. Completely oblivious to the redundant question Andra had asked. Maybe the puppy belonged to her neighbor? She got back into her truck with the pup on her lap and turned around in her own driveway to go back in the opposite direction. By the time she arrived and turned into her neighbor’s path, the silver truck was gone.

Well, damn.

Andra had no indication if the pup was indoor trained or not, so she started dispersing patches of old newspaper throughout the spaces of the house.

“Good think I didn’t throw those out, huh.” Andra said out loud to the puppy.

The newspaper was stacked inside the barn that came with the house, along with a mountain of other items, junk, and farm equipment that she couldn’t find time to sift through. She was hoping once she was able to quit one of her jobs, she would have more time to spend on making her house a home.

Andra didn’t see any fleas jumping or crawling around the puppy’s fur, but she wasn’t taking any chances and started filling the kitchen sink with lukewarm water, tossing in some oats to soak in the little bath.

If anyone was nearby, they would think Andra was torturing the animal. “I know, sweet girl, it’s gotta be done.” Her soothing words were futile, the puppy only stopped wailing and whining once she was out of water and being dried off with a soft towel.

She cuddled her new friend on the couch while she looked up the nearest vet clinic to make sure she was okay and whether or not she had been microchipped.

It was already late in the evening, so this would be an adventure for tomorrow.

Her eyes were growing heavy while Andra cleaned the remaining water from her ears. The bath had drained any energy the puppy had left for the night. Got herself ready for bed, and allowed the pup to lay on the empty side of the bed on top of a small nest of towels.

-----

“She has no owner.” The vet technician came back into the tiny room Andra and the pup waited in. “Would you consider adopting her?”

The doe-eyed pup directed her attention back onto Andra, as if she understood what was being asked. A grin escaped Andra. What are the chances of a beautiful, pure-bred German shepherd showing up at such a down-trodden time? It couldn’t have been coincidence. The universe had sent her to Andra, she felt it in her heart.

“Yeah, I’ll take her home with me.” Andra finally answered and rubbed her new pet’s head.

Andra started immediately on the forms to get the pup prepared for vaccination and everything else. The pen hovered over the spot where the dog’s name would be written as she thought cautiously.

Sammy.

-----

See you next week for the next chapter! 🖤

[anamelessfool]

You've made me forget myself...I thought I was someone else, someone good...

Characters/Covers I've drawn from my most ambitious Ghost fic yet. Can't believe it's nearly a year since I started. Primo's start as a shady fixer for the Ministry, alongside members of his cursed bloodline. How will he keep it together? And what is a "normal" life anyway?

Violence & Gentleness (Young Primo x OC, "Emeritus" Bloodline)

LATE OCTOBER 1979 Primo has his work cut out for him as the bodyguard of the beautiful and fearsome Mater Emerita Jocasta. As mystery after mystery unfolds, it becomes harder to remain a honest man in this den of thieves called the Ministry.

Jocasta, Primo[Irving], Terzo, Secondo, Edelweiss Ghoul

[crash-and-cure]

Crash-and-cure Masterlist

Hi Y’all, finally decided to post one of these to make my fics easier to find on my blog. 

Also let it be known that I also run both the @literally-just-elvis-fics and the @austin-butler-library where I’ve been trying to reblog as many fics as I can please go check them out!

Yandere!Elvis X Reader

If I Were You (I wrote all chapters after the first.) (Yandere!Austin!Elvis X Reader) You thought you could fix him, and he made you worse.

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5

Hallelujah - (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader) Elvis was lucky enough that you were at his concert and was able to save his life after an OD on stage. You’re not so lucky.

Would it be a Sin? - (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Hispanic!Reader) You love Elvis, and he loves you back, but he has some unconventional ways of showing it. 

Devil In You Eyes - (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader) Your Daddy’s boss always gets what he wants. 

Burnin’ a Hole Where I Lay - (Omegaverse Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader) Your best friend is not about to let you go so easy. 

Wait for Me  - (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader) In which Elvis believes he’s Orpheus when he is in fact Hades. 

Every Minute, Every Hour - (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader) You’ll be shaken by the strength and mighty power of his love. 

Been a Thorn in the Side of Man - (Yandere!Elvis X Latin OC) She’s a fixer, but there’s no fixing him.

[mahi-wayy]

𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐔𝐌 𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐎 | ʀᴀɴᴀ ɴᴀɪᴅᴜ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : Rana Naidu x Fem!Oc

ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ : Rana Naidu

ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ : 2.2k

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs : Rana is a mess, him breaking down, mentions of sexual assault, he cries pretty bad, he gets sick too, blood, hurt/comfort.

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 one person he needs the most comes back at the most important time.

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

__________________

Rana Naidu was an anomaly, a very strong headed and extremely smart anomaly. He was one of a kind man, always practical, seems to know the solution to everything, a fixer in true sense.

To people, celebrities, his kids, his brothers, even his father, he was this sorted person who knew how to solve everything for everyone.

It was not after he grew up or since his teens no, he was like this since the age of say ten. He knew what to say to Jaffa when he repeatedly asked for daddy and Naga was nowhere to be seen, or what would comfort Tej when he cried about their dying mother.

He always knew what to tell his drunk father, who has come home at ungodly hours, so he doesn't cause much of a ruckus and wakes up everyone.

He knew what to do when Jaffa went through all the shit, what would convince, which person so they let him slip in the film world. He knew what to do when a woman was murdered in front of him.

That's why he was who he was, the problem solver, the fixer. The one solution to every problem.

Was that the reality? Not quite.

Rana Naidu was a fucking mess, emotionally unstable, extremely violent and traumatized man. His mind was a mess of endless thoughts and ninety hundred ninety-nine out of thousand of them were either negative or memories he wanted to scratch out of his brain forever.

Memories that made him physically sick, scared him, made him anxious, enraged him, made him so berserk all at the same time.

He was constantly in a battle with himself to conquer these vulnerabilities and barely making it every morning but making it and that was why he was seen as a strong man.

A man who was a pillar of strength for his brother, a trying and good father to his kids, a guaranteed solution to the elites and a deadly thorn in his father's side.

But there was one person, just one person, for whom he was just Rana. A guy they met in the street, late at night and who had sat down and talked to their drunk self and that person was his wife.

Ishika Rathore Naidu. A woman of many talents and many faces and jobs, the most beautiful of spectacle in love with a disaster like him.

She was simple, very simple. She was a great wife and a wonderful mother, a gentle soul who made his house home.

At the same time she was very different. She was a martial arts expert, a sharp shooter who never missed, a brutal force beside him who wasn't afraid to help him hammer a problem to straighten the creases it was causing.

But most importantly she was his strength, his balance, his remaining sanity, the little normalcy he desperately clinged to, a safe place he hid in.

So when he received the call of Vjayawada Maharaj was in Tej's studio, she was the first thought as feet was snatched from beneath his feet.

For more than a minute there was nothing but a blank noise ringing in his ears and his first instinct was to steady himself mentally before Tej told him about Jaffa had ended up shooting the man, who was slowly dying from the shot wound and he immediately speaks in the phone that he would be there before hanging up.

On his way he decides to call Sirini.

“Sirini, is she back yet??”

He asked his feet pressing down on the escalator, he could feel the uneasiness settling in but this was not the time, Jaffa was probably panicking a lot more than him and Tej would die under the weight of his own morals if he was late.

“Not yet but she will be in town in a few hours.”

The reply makes Rana curse, banging his hand on the bluetooth panel of his car, hanging up the call. He reaches the studio in record time pushing the doors open to come face to face with a conflicted Tej and a blood covered Jaffa.

Looking at the man brings back unpleasant memories, the way Vjayawada Maharaj looked at him made him recall a shit ton of nonsense and it drove him insane.

He paced around the room, the bleeding man now shifted to lie on the sofa while he was having an argument with Tej who wanted to save the man.

Seriously his brother was beyond his understanding, knowing after what type of man he was he wanted to save him for a damn promise. Not to mention the constant pleas of the man to let him go, to help him sounded too familiar to comfort and Rana could feel his stomach churning.

He was about to say something way harsher than he ever had to Tej when he saw it, Vijayawada caressing Jaffa's head and just by the look he could tell the feel of the touch, the hair on his nape standing up as his feet carried him towards the man, blinded by the rage.

Rana punched him at least five times, right in the face, it was like having a black out yet having the feeling of finally letting go before Tej managed to pull him off the man.

He wanted to murder the man, his slow death felt like it was stiching a deep cut running through him. Rana wanted to strangle the man to death but going near him felt like a punch to his gut and it immediately made him take a step back

His thoughts were cutt of when his phone repeatedly vibrated in his pocket and he took it out to see what was so important.

“Yeah-”

Rana wasn't even able to look who's phone he answered when he heard the sirens followed by Maharaj speaking to his older brother.

“I knew you would save me Tej, I knew you would.”

He hangs up the call, looking at his brother.

“You called the ambulance? Tej really?”

Rana tried his best to sound normal and not like he was irked even if it was. Damn his brother and his naive morals or whatever. He tries to calm himself down while Tej speaks about saving the life and whatever before he spoke.

“Look Tej, hear me out, if we take him to a hospital it will cause an issue. I have contacts in a nursing home, I will take him there myself but you have to send this ambulance back.”

He continues when his brother doesn't seem really convinced.

“Don't worry, this is what I do for a living. I will take care of this, you have to send them off.”

Tej nods in agreement before going to answer the door while he gets Jaffa and Arjun to hold down Vjayawada who starts thrashing immediately. What a persistent man.

It took a little acting and some money but Tej managed to send off the ambulance before coming back to Vijayawada almost crying, how amusing.

“Why did you send them back Tej!? I thought you were helping me!?”

“Don't start a scene, Rana is taking you to a nursing home himself.”

The speed at which the old man turns his way makes him question why he didn't snap his neck then and there but the look in those eyes tell him everything.

Tej doesn't know, neither does Jaffa. Arjun was out of the question from the beginning. No one in the room except for him and the asshole knew that consequences of his actions were coming to tear off his throat.

“You just sentenced me to death, you think he will save me? He of all people. He will kill me Tej he will kill me. That's why he had you send those people away, to watch me die with his own eyes.”

Tej sighs straightening up and he does feel a tiny bit for lying to his brother but oh well.

“After what I did to him, he would never spare my life-”

“Hey hey whatever are you talking about?”

That one exchange between his brother and the dying man brings all eyes on him and he steps back to pace back and forth, refusing to meet any questioning gazes.

Damn it damn it damn it all.

“So you didn't tell them anything?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

The way his throat closes immediately after that yell makes him realise how not okay he was but he would die before he let it show on his face.

“I have loved you Rana from the very beginning!!”

God not this nonsense again, he closes his eyes trying to focus on keeping his breathing normal while the man yaps bullshit.

“I loved you purely, no matter what anyone-”

One shot rings through the room and then it's silent, it gives Rana a breath of oxygen that seems to be cutting off from his system.

“He did it to you too?”

He doesn't reply to Jaffa, choosing to walk out of the studio, his brain was relapsing. Going back into memories he hated the most as his car's engine roared in sync with the thunder before he stepped on the gas.

Each time he gets a vision of that horrible day, his grip tightens on the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. He could feel that crooked touch all over him and it was making him sick.

He could feel the nausea rising closer and closer to his throat, his chest tightening with every second and his throat drying up.

Maybe it was this sickness or his foggy mind or simply the heavy rain that made him miss the car stopping in the middle of the road, missing it just by an inch when he hit the brakes he was ready to shoot the person but his resolve breaks when a familiar comes into view.

He steps out of the car, looking at the woman sitting in the driver seat, her feet resting on the road while the other was against the open door as she lit up a cigarette.

“Srini has been calling you to tell I am back, why weren't you answering, I was worr-”

Ishika cuts herself off when she looks up to come face to face with her husband standing in the downpour. She drops her cigarette and strides towards him without a care, her hands reaching to cup his face with utmost care and it breaks something in him.

He doesn't hear what she says, doesn't realise when he starts crying or when he drops to his knees. He just clings to her and sobs like no tomorrow.

Years of pain and hurt coming out in gut wrenching cries as the one man everyone depended upon crumbles right in arms of the person he loved the most.

It takes her fifteen minutes to calm him down enough to move, settling him in the car wasn't that tough, she turns on the head and slips in the driver seat, shooting a quick message to Laura to get Rana's car before she drives off.

Entering the home was the tricky part, the kids were asleep and Rana was out of it, delicately she guided him upstairs were the man slumped on the bed but refused to let go of her.

“Rana hey, what's wrong? What happened?”

Maybe the question wasn't right because not only did it make him suddenly very aware and frantic but also sent him rushing to the bathroom before she heard the vomiting sounds.

Worried for him but also wanting to give him space she stands by the door and calls Tej, when the private number isn't picked up she calls the land line which thankfully was answered.

“Hello?”

The voice was shaky and not very familiar, Arjun.

“What happened with Rana?”

Her voice cleared that she wanted answers, which she gets as the boy narrates whatever took place. She curses herself before the sound of the shower hits her ear and she hangs up.

“Rana…RANA!!”

She calls out entering the unlocked bathroom to only find her husband under the shower, soaking his already wet to the bones self in the cold shower.

“What are you- Rana- come here.”

She turned off the shower before pulling him out, it was scary how easy it was to physically move him. Coming face to face she noticed his face flushing up, pressing her palm against his forehead confirmed that he indeed had a fever.

Ishika took a breath before gently guiding him out of his clothes, coaxing him to wipe himself down before helping him with his sweats.

By the time his head hit the pillow he was panting softly, breathing through his mouth but also almost asleep. She goes to stand up and was immediately pulled back, the look in his eyes was of someone scared, scared to be alone.

“I am not going anywhere but I can't get the bed wet with my clothes can I? I am just going to change and join you okay?”

She softly coaxed him to lay back down, his death grip loosening on her arm. Changing in record time, he turns up the heat of the room when she notices him shivering a little.

Ishika takes her place beside him, choosing to sit by his head just in case she pulls up the blanket to cover his bare chest and gently caresses his hair.

“It's okay Rana, go to sleep. I got you. It will be alright.”

That was the last thing that he heard before he fell asleep to the rhythm of a hand running through his hair.

The problems were to be dealt with tomorrow, for now Rana Naidu, was a broken sick man trying to find a night of peaceful sleep in his home, beside his wife.

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