#give me backroads all day

[captainknell]

Unfortunately we aren't going to be able to pick up my repaired book for a few weeks probably. My husband wasn't feeling well this morning and went to bed instead of taking me to get it. I thought about going myself but then remembered that I only like driving in the country and would probably have multiple meltdowns trying to drive in the city 😅 especially with the baby as my adventure buddy. Next week we leave for vacation. Which brings me to my next point...

Does anyone happen to know of any Napoleonic things in Missouri? Specifically Branson or St. Louis? I couldn't find anything in Branson when I searched but I saw a bed and breakfast in St. Louis called Napoleon's Retreat (not sure why it's named after Napoleon or if it has anything to do with him besides the name) and a couple things (including a death mask!) in the Missouri History Museum. We're just passing thru St. Louis on our way so probably won't have time to do much except eat at a good Italian restaurant we ate at a few years ago when we went there.

[misctf]

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

[vxsellie]

KINDLY, DARLIN' - 𝐸.𝑊

summary. after seemingly endless days on the road, you find yourself at a random country bar in the middle of nowhere. entering with the sole goal of getting your hands on come kind of alcohol, your attention is soon drawn elsewhere. to a girl and her guitar. notes. ok funny story! this idea came to me from a 5 sec interaction i had with a complete stranger. i went out to a bar, gave ten bucks to the singer, & he said the line that the title is based off of , which the prompted my brain to conjure up an entire love story (he's prob double my age lets be so fr) Also! idk if any of u will like this comparison (if not, just ignore this). but, as i wrote this, i imagined ellie's voice like lucy gray's from the hunger game's. like the slight country drawl, strong vocals, yes yes yes yes Also x2! anyone who follows me should know that im absolute SHITTT at writing smut. but, for some reason, that doesn't seem to stop me from creating works of garbage for my own amusement. anyway, if you reach the smut & realize that it's literal trash, i won't blame u for clicking off of this. just a warning! warnings. brief mention of creepy old men at the bar, depictions of alcohol, public flirting ???, eventual smut, drunk sex in a bathroom LMAO, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r!receiving) wc. 5.1k

𝓕uck your back hurts. Well, if you're being honest, everything hurts. Your neck, back, stomach, legs, hands. Everything that's capable of aching, does.

However, rather unfortunately, you suppose that's to be expected after driving for nigh two days straight in your shitty truck. It's a 90s pickup, the white paint peeling and the tires in desperate need of care. The beige seats are worn and stained, evidence of age having taken its toll on your poor vehicle.

In spite of your truck's needs, you're far more interested in your own ⎯ getting a damn drink.

You're currently coasting through the backroads of some small western town, streets made of dirt and buildings all decrepit. You've never heard of this place before, the name having already slipped your mind due to how utterly foreign it'd been to your mind.

Your headlights cast a yellow glow onto the dirt before you, your tires crunching against fallen leaves and loose rocks. You pass gas stations, wooden homes, dollar stores, an immeasurable amount of churches, and no liquor store. Most shop signs are staked into the dirt, the few billboards all dilapidated in some way ⎯ broken letters, flickering lights, or completely torn from the ground somehow.

Then, by either the grace of God or a wondrous turn of fate, your eyes stutter on a certain sign. A broken wooden one advertising a bar. Your interest is instantly piqued, wheel turning toward the building without hesitation.

You don't give yourself the chance to even think before you're hopping out of your truck and walking into the bar.

The moment you push open the wooden double doors, the sound of boisterous laughter and heavy cowboy boots meet your ears. Perfect.

You stand in place for a moment, craning your neck with narrowed eyes are you examine the atmosphere. To the left, there's a bar with almost every stool occupied by an overweight old man. To the right, there's a pair of barn doors with the word 'restrooms' carved into the wood. In the center of the space, there's bucking machine ⎯ a drunk teenage boy holding on for dear life while his group of friends cackle at him from the sidelines.

Then, on the side of the building opposite you, there's a small stage. It's only elevated a foot or so, wood rotting a bit on the edges. But you hardly care for the conditions of the stage itself. What you find yourself drawn to is the person on it.

In the center is a stool, an auburn haired woman perched atop it with an old guitar situated on her lap. She strums the instrument in an upbeat tempo, leaned forward slightly as she sings into the microphone before her. There's a small crowd in front of the stage, girls admiring and boys whistling.

Considering how run-down this town is, you hadn't expected to stumble across a bar that's so fucking packed. There's barely any open stools at the bar, the bathroom doors are rarely sitting still as people continue to pass through them, the mechanical bull being gifted coins non-stop. But you can't complain.

After so long alone on the road, it's nice to be in such an active atmosphere. It's not calming, of course, but you welcome it lovingly nonetheless.

Watching the auburn for a few moments longer, you then turn on your heel and saunter over to the bar. You're forced to sit beside someone as the lack of stools forbids you from not having a neighbor.

"What can I get'cha, hon'?" The bartender asks you with a tip of his cowboy hat. In his other hand, he wipes the outside of an octagonal glass cup.

"Got any whiskey?" You inquire, leaning your elbows on the sticky countertop.

"Mhm," He hums, turning around to grab a bottle from the shelves behind the bar. He sets the glass onto the counter with a light clink, popping the bottle open. "'N' how would ya like it?"

"Neat."

He nods once more, pouring the liquid into the glass with a flourish before sliding it across the wood toward you. The moment you grab it, he's turning away to tend to another patron. You drink it quickly, downing the glass in one large swig.

As you place the glass back onto the counter, you feel eyes boring into you. Hoping it's someone of interest to you, you turn only to find a duo of old men chuckling at you. Their cheeks are rosy, bellies full ⎯ therefore likely drunk. You roll your eyes as the bartender refills your glass without a word.

Now with an entirely new bit of determination, you down that glass even faster. Another refill. Another singular gulp. Another refill. Another gulp. Another. Another. Another.

You're now swaying a bit atop your stool, feeling pretty good all things considered. The men continue to gossip among themselves, pointing at your ass. You feel disgusted ⎯ not at yourself, but at them for their fucking audacity. Part of you wants to knock their teeth out. But you're not that drunk.

So, instead, you take the mature approach and simply pick up your glass and exit the scene. As you walk away, you hear their chuckles increase and you suddenly regret not punching them.

Your heavy boots thud against the wooden flooring as you walk aimlessly around the bar. You push through an amass of bodies, everyone too drunk to care for your harsh shoving. Then, before you know it, you find yourself situated in the very front of the stage, glass of whiskey in hand.

The woman's voice is laced with a slight country drawl, her boot tapping against the leg of her stool to count the beats of the song. She nods her head as she sings, a small grin lighting her features.

The dim lighting of the bar doesn't do her justice. But you still manage to notice the freckles that dot her face, the cupids bow to her upper lip, the small scar on her right eyebrow. Or maybe you're just drunk and enamored by her. God, what if she finds you creepy? What if she thinks you're some fucking creep? What if she⎯

She looks at you and you swear your heart gives out right then and there. And, if that weren't enough, she winks. You feel your cheeks heat up and you blame it on the alcohol. You down the rest of your whiskey, suddenly feeling very hot. A light chuckle shakes her chest, ringing throughout the space. Nobody else thinks anything of it, of course, all too drunk and preoccupied to give a shit. But you find yourself fantasizing about all the other ways you could make this woman laugh like that again. Oh fuck you are a creep.

In a desperate attempt to salvage the residual bits of dignity you have left, you pull twenty bucks from your back pocket and step forward to drop it into her open guitar case.

She raises a brow, tipping her cowgirl hat in your direction with a smirk. "Thank ya kindly, darlin'."

Somehow, she'd managed to thank you in tune with the song, keeping the beat going without missing a second. It's almost impressive. Okay, it's super impressive. In fact, you feel your heart speeding up again, mind playing on loop the sound of her addressing you. Her country drawl, her smirk, her long fingers grabbing the bridge of her hat. Fuck.

Impulsively, you end up turning on your heel and heading right back to that damn bar. The bartender just grins as he pours you another serving, likely having noticed the flush to your cheeks and the desperation of which you placed the glass down.

"Mind if I give y' some advice?" He asks, leaning forward a bit.

In an act of self pity, you don't have the energy to deny him. "Why the hell not?"

"I ain't gotta clue who you're blushin' over, but my advice is that." He nods toward something behind you. You cast a glance over your shoulder, eyes landing on the bucking machine. You almost laugh, turning back to him with an unimpressed expression. "Listen, y' ain't gotta be good. Y' jus' gotta move your hips right n' I swear he's all yours. Trust me. I've seen it work hundreds of times."

You don't dare to correct him on the gender of your current infatuation, instead deciding to take a few more drinks for a bit of liquid courage. I mean, seriously. How else will you get this woman's attention? Plus, what do you have to lose? You'll never see her again after tonight. The least you could do is try.

After another few drinks, you're staggering over to the mechanical bull with a few coins clutched tight in the palm of your hand. The wait for the stupid thing is way longer than necessary, everyone competing for the longest time lasted on the machine.

You lean your empty hand on the frame of the wooden fence that encircles the rider, watching with reddened eyes as yet another person is flung onto the ground with a heavy thud. He rubs his head with a groan, though his sounds of pain quickly fade into laughter as he brushes off his jeans and stands upright, returning to his boisterous friends with a crooked grin.

Unease begins to lick up your spine, the logical part of your brain wondering why the fuck you're doing this for some country chick you don't even know the name of. You're strong, sure, but your luck would lead you to breaking your neck.

You look over your shoulder casting a glance in the direction of the bar. The bartender gives you two thumbs up, flashing you a grin with missing teeth. As encouraging as that is, what really pushes you to continue is seeing those two old men. They're sitting side-by-side, lustrous smirks on their face as they stare at you, leaning over every few seconds to mutter something in the other's ear. Yeah. Fuck them. You're doing this.

As you make it to the front of the line, you're overcome with naught but confidence. Whether that be due to the sound of the woman's singing growing nearer or the sight of the gross old men, you don't know. Though, honestly, it's likely because of the sheer amount of whiskey you've downed in the past hour.

"Coins." The blonde woman demands, palm of her hand facing you like a bill you've been avoiding. You place the coins into her hand and she opens the gate, hinges squealing as the prior rider stumbles out with a streak of dirt under her eye.

You walk into the ring, feet staggering a bit already from your drunkenness. You hoist yourself onto the bull, situating yourself until you feel a bit less awkward atop the back of the metal animal.

It begins rocking slowly back and forth. You find it easy at first, not really needing to use your hands. You still do, though, not much trusting the machine to not throw you off the moment you let your guard down. It picks up the speed, more. More. More. More. And, before you know it, it's thrashing back and forth. You hold onto the saddle, a dazed smile spreading across your face as you find yourself having fun.

It spins in a circle, your eyes suddenly catching on the woman on stage. She has the perfect view of you from her pedestal, her stool bringing her higher than the crowd just as the bull brings you.

She's still singing into the mic, her voice drowned out by the sound of chatter and cheers ⎯ though you're not sure if they're directed toward you or her at this point.

You've stayed on longer than you anticipated, the ache in your back returning as the bull yanks and dives under you. But you hold on, suddenly remembering the bartender's advice. You don't want to switch up whatever tactic you accidentally built into habit, but the point of this is to get the woman's attention.

So you wait until it spins back around. Then, while her eyes are pinned to yours, you shift a bit, back moving more fluidly as you roll your hips against it. Nobody else would think anything of it, the act so subtle that you simply appear to have altered your position. But she noticed. You know she did. Because her voice caught in her throat, causing her to have to take a sip from her water and apologize into the mic before resuming.

Your confidence spikes at this, suddenly feeling much more egoistical than you did when she was a complete stranger you made eye contact with once. Now you know you have an effect on her.

So you do it again, maintaining eye contact as you roll your hips against the bull suggestively.

Just as before, nobody else pays any mind, far too focused on the fact that you're stayed on for so long to give a fuck about technique. Honestly, if anyone were to notice, it'd be those creepy old men. And, hopefully, they're aware that it's pointed at this woman and now them. Though you doubt they'd care. Creeps like them rarely do.

The singer, with her eyes now pinned to you ⎯ though, everyone's now are ⎯ switches her tone a bit. Her song alters from an upbeat bar tempo with little meaning to having more directed lyrics to a girl with mesmerizing eyes. Again, nobody else picks up on this. She sings about a random girl with stunning eyes, never digressing past that.

But you know; and she knows. And that's all that matters.

She sings a certain line, something more lustful about the way you look at her. Something suggestive about the way she's imagining you. You instantly falter, your grip slipping.

You fall to the ground with a thud, the entire bar making a sound of disappointment and empathy. You don't care, though, not giving a single damn about the bull riding. All you care for is that fucking singer.

You hit the ground, breath knocked from your lungs. You cough, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. Your head spins, the alcohol finally catching up to you. Another cough is yanked from your heaving chest as you groan.

The blonde coin-collecting woman allows the next person into the ring, not waiting for you to give your say. As the next man enters, he offers you his hand. You, desperate for assistance, take it with a grateful smile. He hauls you to your feet, muttering quick compliments on your performance on the bull. You thank him before brushing past him and exiting the ring with staggering steps.

A few people from the crowd compliment you, offering words of encouragement for the 'next time you go up'. You give them half-hearted smiles, chest still aching slightly from your fall.

You shove through the crowd, nearing the restrooms you'd seen at the entrance. You push the doors open and head into the women's side.

You brace your hands on the edge of the sink, glancing in the mirror for a brief moment ⎯ examining the small cut on your cheekbone and the bruises that are beginning to form on your shoulder and hip. You then lean down, positioning your mouth under the faucet before turning on the water. You drink it, relishing in the taste of cool liquid rather than burning alcohol.

"Mm, look who it is."

You smack your head on the faucet with how quickly you straighten. You groan, rubbing your temple as you turn to face the person standing behind you. The singer. Well fuck, that makes the head smack twenty times more embarrassing.

Somehow, she's even more alluring up close. Her pale green eyes bore into you, lashes lidding them slightly. Her skin is lightly tanned, freckles likely produced from a life spent under the sun. Her forearm has a tattoo covering the rippled skin there, lean muscles adorning the rest of said arm.

You play off your staring by narrowing your eyes at her, "Followin' me, are ya?"

"Nah." She shakes her head, stepping forward to wash her hands in the sink beside yours. She tips her head down, looking at her hands as she scrubs, hat coming to block her face from your view. Unfortunate. "Jus' comin' t' wash the filth off my hands. I wouldn't worry, though, darlin', I'm sure that Smilton boy'll check up on ya."

Your brows furrow at this. "Smillin boy?"

"Smilton." She corrects you rather harshly, looking up to meet your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "Farmer's boy. Rich. Brunette. Helped y' up after the bull."

Realization hits you like a brick. She's jealous. This woman that you've never met, this woman that you stressed over impressing, this woman that you bruised yourself to get the attention of. She's jealous because some farmer's boy helped you stand up. A smirk tugs at your lips, an idea lighting your mind.

"Hmm," You hum lowly, brushing past her to dry your hands on one of the scratchy white towelettes. "He is quite handsome, ain't he?"

"Suppose." She replies shortly.

Your smirk only deepens, drying your hands achingly slow. Because you know she's aware that she has no right to be jealous. And that only serves to make her more pissed off. How interesting.

"What's his first name, if y' don't mind me askin'?" You speak casually, talking with her as though everything that passed between you two prior to this hadn't happened at all. It's driving her insane and you can tell.

"I dunno." She says, turning the faucet off to dry her hands beside you. "Somethin' with a J?"

"Oh, c'mon," you coo, turning to her with those eyes you know she adores. "I know y' know more than jus' his last name."

She looks away, clearing her throat with a set jaw, "you're right. Know his first initial too. It's a J."

You chuckle lightly, releasing the towelette to trace your fingertips along the soft skin of her bicep. "Yeah? And what's your first initial?"

Her entire body seems to tense, breath hitching in reaction to your touch. She looks at you from under the bridge of her hat, green eyes glinting with something informal. Something unfit for a casual conversation between two strangers in the women's rest room. You feel your heart stutter at the sight, having to make an effort not to fall to your knees before her in this very moment.

"E," is all she whispers.

"Last name?" You whisper back, matching her for quietude.

"Williams." She manages.

You hum, eyes following the movements of your hand. Had you not been so drunk, you'd likely never have the balls to be so flirty to her. But, as it turns out, your intoxication is good for something. Well, something aside from staying on some metal bull.

"How pretty," you whisper, leaning forward so your mouth is now right beside her ear. Your breath fans across her skin as you continue. "Now tell me your full name, will ya?"

Her eyes are pinned to your face, pupils tracing your features as your hand traces her arm. She finds herself mesmerized by you, entranced by your every detail ⎯ the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheek, the arc of your brow, the height of your cheekbones, the line of your jaw. She imagines running her tongue along each of these points, imagines committing your to memory using naught but her mouth.

"Ellie." She replies finally, watching closely as your eyes raise to meet hers. Her heart stutters in her chest at that, as it always does when you make eye contact.

Your gaze flicks between her eyes and lips, hand slowly inching up her arm. "Ellie?"

The sound of her name rolling off your tongue is enough to send a spark of heat to her core. That paired with the way your fingers are lightly tracing up, up, up. You move your hand over her shoulder, along her collarbone, up the side of her neck, and finally rests to cup her cheek in your palm. She leans into the touch, eyes fluttering.

"You're such a fuckin' tease," she mutters, voice low as it's weighed down by desire and a deep need to feel your skin on hers.

You ignore her words and move to lean in close enough that your noses brush. Then, with your breath fanning across her skin, you ask, "this okay?"

She doesn't say anything, instead abandoning the towelette completely and grabbing your face in both her hands. With a sudden sense of ferocity, she presses her lips to yours, pulling your body flush against hers.

"I'll take that as a yes," you chuckle between kisses.

"Quiet," she murmurs, too needy for your touch to have time for conversation. As much as she loves hearing you talk, shed much rather talk via action rather than actual words.

You giggle against her lips, your arms coming up to wrap around her neck. She hums, hat falling to the tiled floor with a light brush. With each passing second, her actions become more and more desirous, suddenly pushing your back against the nearest wall. You let out a huff of air from the impact, your lips quirking up to form a small smile, regaled by Ellie's sudden desperation for you.

She tilts her head, peppering kisses down your chin and along your jaw. They're harsh and hungry, nipping your skin in some places purely to see your brow furrow at the feel of her teeth.

As she trails down to your neck, you tip your head back against the wall and open your eyes to blink up at the wooden ceiling. Your hands fist Ellie's hair as she leaves bruises down the column of your throat.

Still well and drunk, the room swirls around you. The lights seem to shift with each blink, making this all so much more intoxicating. Your nerves are already on edge due to the alcohol, so the feel of Ellie kissing them is absolutely maddening.

You feel as she presses kisses along your collarbone, tongue grazing the taut skin there. You shift, legs pressing together as she grows more sensual in her act of quick intimacy. This movement doesn't go unnoticed by her, however, her lips quirking into a small smile against your skin as she feels rather proud of how quick she's turned you to putty under her.

She moves across the bare skin of your chest, plump lips taking time to memorize each detail that adorns you. You move again, the heat between your legs growing harder to ignore.

"Patience, darlin'." She instructs. "I'll get there when I get there."

You frown at this, "well get there faster."

Her kisses suddenly cease, looking up at you through her lashes. She tilts her head at you innocently, blinking as she waits for you to correct yourself. To reword your restive demand. "Don't be rude, now."

You can feel your dignity push at the back of your throat, pride yearning for a moment to speak. Seeing as you're normally the one making orders, this feels quite stranger. But, after the long journey you've taken, you suppose you've earned a bit of time to sit back and let someone else take the lead.

Ellie draws a line of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach, kneeling before you as her head comes to situate itself in front of your waistband. You can't help but admire how she looks from here, hair in your hands as her eyes are pinned to your denim jeans as though it's a buffet and she's a man starved. After a moment, she lifts her head to look at you.

Eye contact. Sparks shoot through your body. Somehow, something as simplistic as meeting Ellie's gaze can make you feel indescribably nervous. Pale green irises bore into you, waiting for you to utter words of consent. You do so, giving her the go-ahead.

As soon as you do, Ellie wastes no time hooking her fingers through your belt loops and pulling your jeans to your knees. She leans forward, eyes lidded.

"Wait." You pant, tugging on her hair to halt her movements. She seems rather annoyed by your sudden interruption, but looks up at you kindly despite her own irritation. You rolls your eyes at her evident pique. "What if someone walks in?"

She sighs heavily at that. "I locked the door."

"Oh, okay." You nod. Though, just as she's about to lean forward again, you stop her once more. "Wait. How did you know to lock it? You were all pissy when you first came in here."

"I didn't know." She explains hastily. "I simply hoped."

You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head fondly at her admittance. Then, finally, you don't stop her when she leans forward.

She traces her tongue along the outside of your underwear, the fabric between you only adding to the pulsing in your pussy. A shiver wracks through you, causing Ellie to grab you by the hips to hold you still. She traces circles into your hips with her thumbs, a gentle motion when compared to the needy movements of her tongue as she draws small circles into your clit.

You tighten your grip on her hair, drawing a grunt from the back of her throat. The vibrations from her mouth against your pussy makes it hard to keep back your own noises.

When she finally shifts your panties to the side, you nearly collapse at the feel of her mouth against you. She licks a long stripe up your vulva, a shaky breath yanking from you. The sound only urges her further, taking one hand and drags her middle finger up your center. You shift, leaning heavily against the wooden walls as standing upright suddenly seems impossible. Then, without warning, two fingers shove right into your hole.

Your hips jolt, moving far more than initially seeing as Ellie is now only holding on with one hand. Whilst thrusting her fingers in and out of your needy pussy, her tongue circles your clit with that same neediness, mirroring you for desperation.

Your head falls back, thudding lightly against then wall. At the sound, Ellie ceases. You almost whine at her sudden stopping.

"My eyes are down here, darlin'." She says lowly. "Let me see you."

Begrudgingly, you oblige, lowering your head to make eye contact with Ellie. She's on her knees, legs folded against tiled flooring as she resumes her lapping. You huff out an airy moan as you have to actively stop yourself from tipping your head back again. She holds your gaze the entire time, adding to the intensity of the feel. Her eyes are lidded, shoulder moving as her fingers recommence.

This all paired with your dizzy head and swimming vision makes for quite the climax, core knotting progressively as Ellie doesn't dare to stop. "Fuck," you pant as you buck your hips against her face, forced to watch as you do so. With another heavy breath and an arching back, you utter, "I'm⎯"

She seems exponentially proud as she hears you say this, regardless of if you finish your sentence or not. She pauses only for a moment to say, "yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum, though it comes out more of a moan than anything.

"Do it, darlin'."

And you do, coming undone right atop her face. She, admittedly, relishes in it, hydrated only by what you're able to provide her with. You see stars and they're swimming too, circling your head in a celestial body of pleasure. And Ellie watches, for once allowing your head to fall back as she deems this a one time exception. Because there will be a next time.

You're panting as you lower your head to face her once more, her gaze never having left your expression. She makes out with your pussy sensually as to bring you down from your high. Then, as gently as she can, she situates your panties back on correctly and pulls your jeans to rest as your hips, remaining knelt in front of you as she zips and buttons them just as she'd found them.

You watch with a twinkle of fondness behind your irises, unable to look away from the expression of adoring concentration she wears. She then uses your hips as a support system to haul herself back to her feet, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. You can nigh taste yourself on her.

"Not bad for a stranger at a sketchy bar." You muse, picking her hat from the floor and situating it atop her auburn tufts of hair. She watches you, analyzing your every move.

"I'm not just a stranger." She reminds you as your eyes find hers, your hands coming to drape around her shoulders. "I'm a stranger who wrote a song about you."

"Mm," you hum, "so you're a stalkers stranger?"

"I prefer the term passionate." She says, shooting you a playful scowl.

You chuckle, "passionate for what? Stalking and preying on drunken women?"

"Pfft-" She scoffs. "You're not drunk."

For a moment, you consider agreeing with her. To save her the pain of realizing you hadn't been sober for this. But you know better than to lie to her. So, through lidded eyes ⎯ ones that should have been a rather telltale sign of your intoxication ⎯ you give her a look, not even needing to voice the truth aloud for her to understand.

"Well fuck." She groans, taking a step backward and causing your arms to fall to your sides.

Frankly, you'd expected her to be much more angered than that. Because you know you would be. After writing a song, chasing down, then tongue-fucking someone in the bathroom, the worst news to receive would be that they'd been wasted the entire time.

"I'm sorry," you're quick to apologize, for some reason feeling the need to earn her forgiveness.

"How're you planning to get home?" She asks.

"I hadn't thought about that." You admit.

"How about this," she suggests, "I give you a place to stay to apologize for fucking you while drunk and you let me take you to dinner tomorrow to apologize for not telling me beforehand. Deal?"

A smirk works its way to your mouth, "deal."

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo @kasqnxx @xlovla @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @shawangel

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[morganbritton132]

Thank you for feeding us with the Steve Has Older Siblings AU. God tier level of characterization I gotta say.

How do the older siblings handle the “Eddie Munson Problem”? I would imagine they actually do try to get rid of him at first given Eddie’s reputation but then realize he treats Steve better than any of them ever have.

Well, there is cash incentive.

Richard Harrington still has aspirations of going into local politics one days and he is not going let Al Munson’s son kill that dream. Or kill their son. Richard waves a dismissive hand in his wife’s direction because, “Of course. Of course. Or that.”

Whoever makes that boy disappear gets five thousand dollars.

(1.)

Claire takes a direct approach. She corners Steve and tells him that Eddie is a drug dealer and a drug user. She tells him about all the scary things that showed up on his toxicology report in the hospital and Steve replied flatly with, “Wow. Crazy. I had no idea.”

“I’m serious,” She says. “You could get hurt with someone like that. Do you know how that would make us feel if something happened to you?

“I fractured my ankle at a track meet once and Dad made me walk to the car afterwards,” Steve replies. “I think you guys will be fine.”

“I’m serious.”

“You know, Claire,” Steve nods to himself because, yeah. Sure. Let’s do it. “How have you felt the last three years? Or, I don’t know. The last two concussions? You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with for years now and – and you’ve never cared so why now? What’s Dad giving you to ruin my life because-“

He shakes his head, “This is not worth it. Like how picking up the phone when the mall caught on fire with me inside it wasn’t worth the effort. Tell Dad you tried really hard, but no. I’m not going to get rid of one of the few people in my life that actually like me.”

(2.)

Jason takes a different – dumber – approach. He goes in with no plan and no intentions, just took the opportunity when he saw Eddie’s van pulled off on the side of a backroad. He bangs his fist against the side and is delighted that he caught Eddie and Steve.

He threatens to beat Eddie up which is bold to say to an accused murderer in the woods, but okay.

Then he turns around and threatens Steve that he’s going to tell their dad that he was getting high in the woods if he doesn’t keep away from trailer trash, but Jason is fucking idiot because they were decidedly not getting high in the woods. He leaves with an eighth of marijuana and  no closer to five thousand dollars because Steve had just shrugged like, “Okay? Go ahead. Tell him.”

(3.)

Richie does not participate in this because he actually wants to improve his relationship with his little brother and he was the first person Steve went to after they got Eddie, barely breathing, to the hospital. He saw how shaken up he was and he also saw the bruising around Steve’s neck.

He knows what the bruising looks like. He knows how people gets bruises like that. And he knows that he’s a coward because he could not bring himself to ask a question he did not want the answer to. And he knows Eddie Munson.

Eddie is harmless.

All you have to do is have one conversation with the kid and you’ll see that he couldn't hurt a fly. Richie, however, had many conversations with him when Harrington & Associates took his case on pro bono so he knows just how harmless Eddie is.

He also knows that Eddie spends a lot of time trying to make Steve laugh. Richie has spent enough time in his life making his brother miserable. He's not doing anymore.

[callsigns-haze]

hi, I was wondering if you could do a one shot, where the reader and tyler are storm chasers, but the readers ill and tyler makes her sit this chase out so she can get better. so she watches the live stream, when boone shows the tornado and it looks really bad, when suddenly the camera cuts and the reader can't get a hold of tyler or anyone else. you can pick the ending, and you don't have to do it. thank you x.

Unanswered

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Y/N anxiously monitors a severe tornado chase from the sidelines due to illness, fearing the worst when the live stream abruptly cuts off, only to be relieved when Tyler, her partner, returns safely.

Chapter Warning: Descriptions of illness, anxiety, and intense storm danger, including a brief moment of panic.

The rolling plains stretched out endlessly under a steel-grey sky, the air thick with the tension of an impending storm. Y/N sat in the passenger seat of their truck, her usual excitement for the chase dampened by the persistent ache in her chest and the fever that refused to break. She had been trying to shake off the flu for days, but it clung to her like a stubborn cloud.

Tyler, her partner in both storm chasing and life, shot her a concerned glance as he steered the truck down the dusty backroads of Tornado Alley. They’d been tracking a supercell all morning, the energy between them usually electric during these chases, but today it was different. The worry in Tyler’s eyes had grown more intense with every cough she tried to stifle.

“Y/N, you’re in no shape to be out here,” Tyler finally said, his voice firm but gentle. “I need you to sit this one out and rest. You can follow the chase on the live stream, but I can’t focus if I’m worried about you.”

She wanted to argue, to insist that she was fine, that she could push through. But the truth was, she felt awful, and the thought of being a liability to the team gnawed at her. Reluctantly, she nodded.

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, her voice raspy. “But you have to promise me you’ll be careful. This storm looks like it could be a monster.”

Tyler gave her a reassuring smile, leaning over to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “I promise. I’ll keep you updated, and Boone will keep the live stream going so you won’t miss a thing.”

He pulled the truck to a stop near a small diner at the edge of town, where Y/N would wait out the chase. As much as it pained her to let Tyler go without her, she knew it was the right decision. She grabbed her laptop and settled into a booth, her eyes already glued to the live stream feed.

The storm was already gaining strength as Tyler and the team pushed deeper into the heart of Tornado Alley. The sky darkened ominously, and the wind began to howl, whipping dust and debris across the road. Boone, their seasoned cameraman, narrated the scene for their live stream viewers, his voice steady but tinged with excitement.

Y/N watched the stream intently, her pulse quickening with each update. The camera captured the swirling clouds, the lightning flashing in jagged arcs across the sky. The radar showed the supercell tightening, the classic hook echo indicating a tornado could drop at any moment.

Suddenly, the feed shifted, and Boone's camera zoomed in on the horizon. A dark funnel began to descend from the clouds, twisting and turning with terrifying speed.

“There it is!” Boone’s voice came through the speakers, the adrenaline evident in his tone. “We’ve got a tornado on the ground, folks. It’s a big one!”

Y/N’s heart pounded as she watched the tornado touch down, tearing across the open fields with a ferocity that made her stomach churn. The massive twister seemed to devour everything in its path, growing larger with each passing second.

Tyler’s voice crackled through the feed, giving commands to the team as they maneuverer to get a better position. But just as the team closed in, the camera suddenly jerked violently, the screen filling with static. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as the stream cut out entirely, leaving her staring at a blank screen.

“Come on, come on,” Y/N muttered, frantically refreshing the page. But the stream refused to return. She grabbed her phone and dialled Tyler’s number, her fingers trembling with fear.

The call went straight to voicemail.

“No, no, no…” Panic began to claw at Y/N’s chest as she tried Boone’s number, then the rest of the team. But every call went unanswered, the dread growing heavier with each failed attempt.

She could barely breathe as she stared at her phone, the silence around her deafening. Every second felt like an eternity. Images of the storm, the twisting tornado, flashed in her mind, and all she could think about was Tyler out there in the path of destruction.

Y/N’s mind raced, torn between the urge to jump in the truck and drive out there herself, and the knowledge that she was in no condition to help. But sitting here, doing nothing, was unbearable.

Just as she was about to give in to despair, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Tyler’s name flash on the screen.

“Tyler!” she answered, her voice choked with emotion. “What happened? Are you okay?”

There was a brief pause, and then Tyler’s voice came through, slightly shaky but alive. “Y/N, I’m okay. We’re all okay. The tornado got too close, we had to take cover. Boone lost the camera when we were scrambling to get to safety.”

Y/N exhaled a shaky breath, tears of relief streaming down her face. “I was so scared, Tyler. I thought… I thought I lost you.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Tyler said softly, his voice filled with regret. “I didn’t mean to scare you. We’re safe now. The tornado’s moved on, and we’re regrouping. We’ll be back soon.”

She closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart. “Just come back in one piece, okay? No more close calls.”

“I promise,” Tyler replied, the sound of his voice steadying her. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Y/N held onto the phone long after the call ended, her heart still pounding but slowly settling back into a more normal rhythm. The storm was still out there, but knowing Tyler was safe brought her a sense of calm she hadn’t felt all day.

Hours later, the door of the diner swung open, and Y/N looked up to see Tyler walking in, looking tired but unharmed. She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, the relief overwhelming her.

He held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I should have kept you updated.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a small smile. “I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

Tyler cupped her face in his hands, his eyes full of love and concern. “Let’s get you home. You need to rest, and I need to take care of you for a change.”

Y/N nodded, feeling the exhaustion hit her all at once. But now, with Tyler by her side, the fear and worry of the day seemed to fade into the background. They had faced the storm and come out the other side, and now all that mattered was that they were together.

As they left the diner, the storm clouds were already beginning to clear, the first hints of twilight breaking through. The danger had passed, and with it, a new appreciation for the quiet moments they could share, far from the chaos of the chase.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[multimilfs]

Agnes O'Connor x Fem!Reader: Beginning & End

Summary: Taking a late drive to get your mind off a few things, you get more than you bargained for from a not-so-routine traffic stop.

AO3

A/N: Wasn't sure how to tag this since Agnes is technically an Agatha... variant? persona? Also I didn't tag the Agatha taglist since this isn't technically Agatha? tricky tricky... This is basically just pure smut with a sprinkle of plot.. enjoy xoxo (also let me know if you want more of Agnes?)

Words: 6.2k

Included: Established relationship, Jealousy, Smut; choking, spitting, bdsm, possession, semi-public sex, car sex, fingering, cunnilingus, daddy kink, roleplaying, power dynamics, dom/sub, teasing, begging

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix

You sigh as you lean into the leather seat. The music is loud enough to hurt, but you don’t turn the volume down, glad of the noise even if you don’t feel like singing along. Trees fly by outside the window as you drive. 

A sign passes in a flash but you catch the number; 45. Your speedometer reads 55. 

Making sure you’re alone on the road, you push it to 57 just for kicks. Even as the dark scenes on either side pass in a blur, the road ahead is clear. The moon hangs low and bright above, reflecting off the filled-in parts of the pavement. 

The song changes and you sigh again upon hearing the familiar tune. It only reminds you of your wife; who should be home and in bed with you, but ended up on night-shift instead after hassling a suspect a bit too hard, canceling your planned evening. 

Which leads you to driving the backroads between Westview and Eastview, hoping the journey will tire you out enough that you can sleep. Instead it lands you in the position of blowing past a hidden cop. 

Just your luck. 

You groan as you turn the music down and pull off the road into a flat area of grass. With the lights, you can’t tell if it's a Westview or Eastview officer at first. You have pretty good chances of getting off with a warning if it's one of Agnes’ coworkers. 

But it’s not one of the regular officers. It’s the Chief’s car. You hit your head against the steering wheel. He’s been riding Agnes’ ass for months and will likely give you a hefty ticket just to spite her. 

While you’re hitting your head against the wheel, there’s a knock on your window. You roll it down without looking, “Look, Chief, I know the deal. You can just write me a ticket and I’ll pay it tomorrow.” 

“Oh, will you now?” 

You pause. 

Looking up in disbelief, “Agnes?” 

“That’s Detective O’Connor to you.” Her face doesn’t change from the stern facade, “You were driving pretty recklessly back there. Have you been drinking tonight, ma’am?” 

Subtly as you can manage, you check your side mirror to see if anyone else sits in the police cruiser. It wouldn’t be unlike the Chief to put Agnes through some insane test. No shadows lurk in the other car. 

You drag your eyes back to Agnes. She’s waiting, still just as stoic, but you see the mischief in her eyes. Well, if she wants to play, why not up the stakes?

Tilting your head and smiling, “Of course not, detective. I’ve been a good girl.” 

A split-second pause tells you she wasn’t expecting that. She licks her lips before the act slips back into place. She scoffs. 

“That’s what they all say. Wait here.” Her hand pats the open window before she’s heading back toward the cruiser. 

You watch her walk away in the side mirror with a grin. Her confident gait stirs something in you, always has. 

For a split second you consider throwing the car in drive and peeling out of here. You’re curious to see what Agnes would do. You hope she’d chase you all the way home; that way when you get there you could finally have a taste of what tonight was meant to be. 

You want Agnes painfully. Between work deadlines on your end and long hours on hers, you’ve been too tired to do more than cuddle, or some heavy kissing on a better day. You miss the connection that comes from baring yourselves to one another. And the orgasms, too, of course. 

Agnes is back at your window, breathalyzer in hand. You make a split second decision. 

“Please, detective, I can’t afford another ticket, and my wife will be so mad.” You plead, using that innocent, wide-eyed expression you know turns her on, “Is there anything I can do to… pay it off, per se?” 

To her credit, she doesn’t crack this time, “Are you soliciting an officer of the law, ma’am?” 

“No, of course not! Unless that’s what you want.” 

“Step out of the car.” 

The commanding note in her voice goes straight between your thighs. You open the door and step out, watching her brows raise at only the long nightgown you’re wearing. There’s a chill in the air that makes you shiver. Her eyes are drawn to your chest before she shakes away whatever is going through her mind. 

While you’re enjoying the game, you do hope she’ll let you get back in the car soon. The cold is unmanageable without more substantial clothing. 

Agnes holds up the breathalyzer, “Open your mouth.” 

You do so without thinking. A blush races up your face. Agnes can’t help but smirk. 

It’s not the breathalyzer that finds itself between your lips, but two fingers that settle on your tongue and press. You jolt at the pressure. Tears come to your eyes as you gag, but the weight of her fingers doesn’t ebb. You fight against your gag reflex to curl your tongue around the digits. 

Closing your lips around them, you swirl your tongue like one would around a piece of candy. Even through blurred vision you can see how Agnes’ eyes darken. She leans forward, staring at your lips. 

Her fingers move deeper, pressing harder, fucking your throat. You swallow around them. 

You find your mouth and throat empty as Agnes pulls out. Her hand grabs your face before you can close your mouth and holds it open, fingers wet against your cheek. She grins meanly. 

“Stick out your tongue.” 

The second you do, Agnes spits in your mouth. You whimper. It’s humiliating and you feel yourself clench around nothing. You leave your tongue in the position she demanded, obedient as ever. 

Agnes laughs, “Swallow.” 

Humiliation, in combination with your startling need for her touch, forces the tears to spill over and down your cheeks. The sight of them seems to please her. She’s always loved seeing you thoroughly debased; loves knowing only she can break you down like this. 

Partners in the past did try. Yet they would hesitate, hold back, believing they knew the limits of your desire instead of trusting you. A few would panic when they saw tears in your eyes and pull out of the scene completely. You often found yourself pretending; toning down your desires to ‘acceptable’ levels and leaving yourself unsatisfied to avoid that worried look in your partner’s eyes. 

But you’ve never had to pretend with Agnes. From that first time, she went as far as she wanted, knowing that you were an adult capable of safe-wording if it was too much; it wasn’t. You had been dripping and needy the entire time. You had cried while she sat back and watched you polish her boots with your tongue, and had nearly come undone from the act alone. It was everything you craved—Agnes was everything you craved; trusting, dominating, cruel when it suited, and the most loving partner you’ve ever known. 

You had vowed then and there that you weren’t letting her get away. And how lucky for you that she put a ring on your finger; the ring that is so much more than a symbol of love; but a brand, too, just as you desire. 

“I wonder what your wife would think of you offering yourself up to me,” Agnes muses, “but you’re so eager for it, I can’t help but wonder if she’s not satisfying you properly.” 

“Only you can satisfy me, detective.” You flutter your lashes. 

That draws a real laugh from her. Something inside you preens. You lean forward into Agnes’ space, angling your head for a kiss, but she pulls back. 

“Be that as it may, soliciting an officer is a crime, as is reckless driving.” Her hands reach for her belt, where her handcuffs rest in one of the holsters, “I’m going to have to take you in.” 

Though the idea of being cuffed and fucked however she pleases excites you, you’re not entirely pleased with how your original plan was ruined. Agnes knew where the line was during interrogations and she crossed it. Knowingly. It’s safe to say you’re a little pissed she acted out. 

A mean-spirited voice in your head considers pushing Agnes away entirely, leaving her wet and turned on for the rest of the night shift while you go home and find solace in your favorite toy. The rational part of you knows that no toy can replace your wife, and it’s her you want. You’re just not going to make it easy for her. 

You fall to your knees before she can work the cuffs off her belt. She jolts at the unexpected change. You slam against the ground pretty hard and wince, but don’t dare stop. 

Your hands find her belt buckle. Deftly, you start to undo it, “Please, I can make you feel good. I’ll do anything.” 

Agnes raises her brows. She doesn’t stop you from undoing her belt or slowly lowering the zipper of her pants. There’s a tenseness in her jaw as she thinks over the request. Intent on sealing the deal, you move your hands from the front of her pants; instead leaning forward to place a kiss where they’d just been. 

Looking up through your lashes, you beg, “Please.” 

“Well, since you’re so eager for it.” 

Ignoring the screaming in your knees, you shoot to your feet, capturing Agnes’ lips in a hard kiss. You attack with lips and teeth and tongue. At the same time, you slip your hand inside her pants and past the waistband of her panties. 

She groans against your lips when your fingers play in her wetness. Your fingers ghost over her clit and you grin into the kiss. Two hands settle on your hips and shove, your back hitting the side of your car; it hurts for a moment before you’re once again lost in the feel of your wife, how she’s using her position to grind against your hand, the obscene noises leaving her throat.

Your clit throbs with every roll of her hips. It’s intoxicating that she’s just taking what she wants, using you as a toy to achieve her own pleasure. But the desire between your own legs reminds you of the end goal. 

Agnes’ hips pick up speed, her usual low groans evolving into panting, high-pitched whimpers. She’s so close. You consider letting her have what she wants. 

Moments before she can fall over the edge you pull your hand from her pants. Hands settling on her chest, you shove her back. She jolts and stumbles. Her fucked-out expression from seconds earlier shifts to confusion, then anger. 

“What the fuck?” Agnes snarls. 

“You’ve been bad, detective.” Still leaning against the car, you cross your arms over your chest, “Or should I say Daddy.” 

Agnes stands straighter. There’s steel in her spine now, jaw taught as darkness comes over her expression. Amusement alights inside your chest. 

Her hands begin to unravel the belt from the loops of her pants, “I’m going to paint your backside blue.” 

“I don’t think so.” Your voice is hard. “You see, I had a lovely evening planned for us. Dinner, a movie, clean sheets for us to spend all night ruining. And we didn’t get to enjoy any of it because someone couldn’t control her temper. So you, daddy, are going to fuck me until I decide I’m ready to forgive you.” 

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control, baby.” 

Agnes steps into your space, belt in her hands. You stop her with a hand on her chest before she can get close enough to do anything. 

“I am in control.” 

“Those with the upper hand don’t usually have to state the fact.” 

You tilt your head, “If you don’t give me what I want, you’re not going to touch me for weeks. I’ll fuck myself and all you’ll be able to do is watch. And I’ll stuff all the pairs of panties I ruin into your bag, your pockets… everywhere you go, you’ll be reminded of just what you’re missing.” 

The smug expression slowly slips from her face. She tries to push forward again, but you’re unyielding; clenching your fist in the fabric of her shirt until she feels the subtle bite of your nails. There’s fury and a small trace of fear in her eyes. 

It’s rare that you have the upper hand. Usually Agnes is twelve steps ahead of everyone—you included. But this time she miscalculated, and she’s going to pay for it. 

“Your choice, daddy.”

She scoffs. Shaking her head, a few pieces of her hair free themselves from her low ponytail. They lay in and over her face before she blows them out of the way carelessly. She hasn’t been taking care of it, you can tell; and briefly, you consider if you can get away with commandeering her into taking better care of herself. 

You likely shouldn’t push your luck. Agnes is going to punish you enough for this stunt, you’re sure. 

The belt is tossed onto the ground a few feet away in a silent show of surrender. Her eyes are dark, churning with a mixture of fury and arousal. A brief moment passes where you wonder if you’re taking this a bit too far, but you shove it down; Agnes is an adult just as you are and will tell you if you cross any hard lines. 

“Is the heat on in the cruiser?” You ask. 

She pauses, taken-aback, “Yeah, of course.” 

“Good. You’re going to fuck me in it later. But first—” 

You open the back door of your own car as wide as it can go, just so you can perch on the seat with your feet still outside. With a smile, you open your legs wide. You hadn’t considered this outcome when you left the house for your drive, so your panties are relatively plain, but it doesn’t matter since they’re soaked through. 

Agnes takes a step forward and you hold up a finger. She pauses. You point at the ground. 

Her face goes red, “Not fucking likely.” 

And then she’s on you. She’s holding herself up with one hand on the seat, the other dragging your face to hers. Her body rests perfectly between your legs. With a low moan, you roll your hips against her front. 

Her grip on your face is painful. Thank god her nails are clipped short. 

Agnes pulls away from your mouth to bite and suck at your throat. You throw your head back, still grinding up against her, moaning with abandon. The friction is nice but it isn’t what you wanted. 

“I want you to eat me out.” You force out. 

“I don’t care what you want.” Agnes growls. 

“Oh? Well, I guess I should be prepared to handle my own orgasms for a while, then.” 

As you say that, you stop grinding, and lay fully against the seat, one of your arms snaking its way down your front and between your thighs. You’ve only circled a finger around your clit twice before her hand catches your wrist in a punishing grip. 

“Try it and I’ll tie you to the bed everyday when I go to work.” 

“I made my terms abundantly clear.” 

“You know what you forgot though, brat?” Agnes taunts, lips right next to your ear, “You’re too greedy to settle for your hand or your little toys. It’s only a matter of time before you get bored and come crawling back to me.” 

“Maybe I’ll just crawl to someone else. Agent Vidal has been hanging around.” 

A hand closes around your throat and you whine. She squeezes, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. You roll your hips. 

“I’ll lock you in the house if you even think about it.” Her voice is hard, promising, “You’re mine, baby.” 

“Prove it.” 

That’s the wrong thing to say. 

Agnes pulls back completely. Her hands leave you, the pressure of her body is gone. You look up and she’s standing just far enough away that you can’t touch her. You growl. 

The look on her face is one you’ve seen a dozen times; the very same one she wears when you’re about to endure something you don’t like. But you vow not to let her have the upper hand. Not this time. This time, you’re going to make her bend. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She says. 

The words are like a bucket of cold water over your head. You don’t spend long dwelling on the threat, there’s no time. 

Agnes is halfway back to the police cruiser when you worm your hand into your panties and bury two fingers inside without preamble. Despite being the source of your own pleasure, you jolt, back bowing off the seat. The moan that leaves your lips is exaggerated; pornographic. 

“Oh, yes!” 

You hear her footsteps come to a stop. You don’t dare open your eyes, not yet. The pleasure you’re experiencing is real, even if it is half of what it could be with Agnes’ help, but you have to keep up the act—have to make her jealous of your own fingers. 

Though she hates to admit it, Agnes is jealous in all aspects of life. There’s a bit of healthy competitiveness worked in there that you can admire. Yet some days… some days she comes home fighting mad, hair a mess and muscles clenched tight as she recounts the events that made her that way. And lately they’ve all had the same person involved—

Agent Rio Vidal. 

A loaner agent from the FBI, here to figure out some of the more poignant details of a murder on the Westview-Eastview county line. She’s confident and cutting and painfully attractive. Somehow, she knows how to push every single one of Agnes’ buttons, in work and play. 

You’ve only met her twice and each time Agnes was an animal afterward. The appreciative glances and suggestive words made you blush—and though you won’t admit it, turned you on a good bit—while Agnes could barely hold herself back from attacking the woman. So possessive. So jealous. 

You can use that. 

The door on the other car hasn’t opened and you know she’s watching with rapt attention. You put on a good show, rolling your hips into your one hand while pinching at your chest with the other. You could get off on her watching. 

Another exaggerated, high-pitched moan, “Oh, Agent Vidal!” 

Though the woman is attractive, you can’t imagine anyone but your wife. Agnes doesn’t need to know that. 

Strong hands grab your calves and pull you half-way out of the car. You squeak, eyes snapping open. Agnes looms above you and oh fuck you’re in trouble. 

“You little bitch.” She snarls, hand coming to wrap around your throat.

You try to moan but she doesn’t give you that much air. Another deft hand rips your own from your panties, even going so far as to rip the fabric off completely. There’s the ghost of her fingers above your center. You roll your hips. 

The sensation of loss and blurry edges is usually a huge turn-on; maybe it’s the intense change from oxygen to no oxygen, but you’re struggling more than normal. You tap her wrist three times. 

Agnes pulls away completely. Her hand is off your neck, the other gone from between your thighs. You take in large lungfuls of air and feel your heart-rate slow just a little. A little whine works its way from your throat, though it’s mainly a result of the throbbing between your legs that’s still driving you crazy. 

Your wife’s hands hover over you, eyes concerned, “Honey?” 

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.” You assure, sitting up and kissing one of her palms, “The quick change just… startled me. I’m okay.” 

“Should I… Do you need me to take you home?” 

“Oh no, Agnes O’Connor, you’re going to finish what you started.” Spreading your legs offers an obscene picture of just how soaked you are, made even more tantalizing by the ripped panties clinging to your thigh, “Unless you want me to find someone else who can finish the job.” 

It’s like flipping a switch. 

Overwhelming is a word that could be used to describe Agnes in bed—smothering, even. She has a way of overtaking every single one of your senses at once. Your skin is on fire with her touch, with the faint strands of hair tickling your face. The scent of burnt break-room coffee clings to her jacket. You even taste it when her tongue invades your mouth, moaning obscenely against your lips. 

You like being smothered, though. You crave it; aching for anything that will let you turn your mind off and just feel. 

Agnes pulls back. Her breath is hot against your lips, “You’re such a brat.” 

“Only for you, daddy.” You murmur. 

A shudder passes through her at the name. Her grip tightens on you, near bruising. You moan. 

“Where do you want me?” 

“With your mouth between my legs.” 

“Fingers?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Agnes chuckles, “So you do remember your manners. Interesting.” 

You roll your eyes. To your luck, Agnes doesn’t see—if she had, you would have been punished accordingly. Though you realize things are a bit off-balance with your threat hanging in the air; any other time, Agnes would have you bent anyway she pleased, taking all she wanted until you couldn’t handle any more. 

Being in control is… odd. Not unwanted, but odd. You have to be more aware of yourself, confident in every command that leaves your lips. You’re glad that this is Agnes’ preferred role even if you’re enjoying the change. 

Lips kiss the inside of your thighs and you shudder. When she sinks her teeth in, you squeal, jolting at the change. Your hand falls to the top of her head. 

“Not what I meant!” 

“Oh, then what did you mean?” She taunts. 

“If you don’t make me come right now so help me—” 

The heat of her mouth on you is enough to shut you up. Her tongue drags up your slit with agonizing slowness. She teases at your clit for only a moment before repeating the slow drag, making you whine, pressing her head closer. 

You feel the rumble of her laughter and god help you the vibrations feel amazing. Yet when you try to move your hips for more, her hands keep them pressed firmly to the leather seat. 

Another threat sits on your lips that never comes to pass. With the last slow lick, she fastens her lips around your clit and sucks, hard. It’s painful and wonderful and your back bows off the seat, hands scrambling for anything to clench into. The weeks have been long and you know you’re not going to last. 

“I’m going to come.” You force out. 

She laughs again. That, in combination with her attention focused solely on your clit, sends you straight over the edge. You feel wild, unhinged as your hips move without any guidance from your mind, chasing the waves of pleasure that make your every muscle go taut. 

But when the pleasure subsides, Agnes doesn’t stop. She pushes two fingers inside and curls them in that way you like so much. You clench around them, though you ache, not ready for more so soon. 

“I can’t—Please, I can’t.” You beg. 

“One more, baby. You can give me that, can’t you?” 

“I can’t.” 

“You can.” 

And you do. Her fingers know every inch of you well, her mind cataloging every spot that makes you whine, every move she performs that sends you over the edge. She calls on that knowledge as the pads of her fingers rub against that spot inside you with abandon until you can’t breathe, shrieking and moaning loud enough that you worry someone will hear you miles away. 

The pleasure tenses your body so tight that you worry the muscles will never relax again. It hurts in that delicious way only Agnes can bring out. 

When you do relax, she’s licking gently at you, collecting the flavor on her tongue and savoring it like a fine wine. You twitch. The hand you have in her hair pushes as you attempt to slide further onto the seat, away from her mouth. 

“No more,” you beg, “please.” 

“Am I forgiven?” 

You laugh, breathless, “Not quite.” 

You tug her up wordlessly until the weight of her is draped over you. It’s nice, comforting to feel her close. Her warmth helps fight against the cold biting at your lower half. Sighing, you bury your face in her neck, your hand coming up to lazily play with her hair. 

Agnes accepts the touch. She traces little patterns on your hip over the nightgown, soft and quiet. You can still see the red and blue lights from your hiding place in her neck. 

“Why do you have the Chief’s car?” You ask. 

She scoffs, “Mine broke down three hours into the shift. Had to call the Chief and walk all the way to his house to get the cruiser.” 

“What? Agnes, why didn’t you call me?” 

“I wanted you to enjoy your night in, honey.” 

You think about arguing, but you recognize the exhaustion in her voice, and decide not to push it—for now. It’s an argument you can save for later. 

“So what was it, the battery? I thought we just replaced it.” 

“I think the old girl might just be done for. We’ve had her for a while.” Agnes shrugs. 

“But that’s… we brought Nicky home in that car.” You whisper, chest aching. 

Another piece of your life—connected to your baby—that you won’t get to keep. Agnes tenses, her breathing growing ragged, and you feel terrible; she’s likely already thought about this the whole shift, spent all these hours remembering it alone. That’s why she didn’t call you—she didn’t want to drag you bag into the deep end of the pain, too. 

You press a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. No wonder she took the first opportunity to play with you, she needed the distraction. 

“I’m sorry, my love.” You murmur.

“Not your fault, honey. These things happen.” 

She sounds less and less like herself with every moment. You don’t want to shove the grief aside—the grief counselor said that only made things worse—but this isn’t how you want to handle it; Agnes draped over your freshly-debauched form in the backseat of your car. 

This is a conversation, a breakdown for home, where the two of you can take all the time you need to soak in the new loss. You need to distract her away from this. 

“Will the force offer you one of their vehicles?” 

“Yeah. They should.” 

“Where did you break down?” 

“By the bridge on Old Forest.” 

Perfect. 

“Let’s give her a proper sendoff, then.” 

Agnes pauses. The look she gives you is questioning, as if not quite believing your suggestion, but she knows better—knows you’re serious about this. 

“Alright.” 

Which is how you find yourself halfway across town, on a back road with no streetlights, pulling off perilously close to a ditch. Agnes' car is unmistakable even in the dark—from the extra mirror on the hood reflecting the moonlight to the dent in the back bumper she never got fixed. You feel suddenly overwhelmed as you trace your fingers over the body. 

So many memories, good and bad. Your late-night trysts in the back seat. Bringing Nicky home. The back seat full of his stinky sports gear. Agnes’ old case files winding up on the floor. 

Agnes comes up and drapes her jacket over your shoulders. The warmth of her body has seeped into the cloth, now blocking out the chill in the air, “This might not be the best idea.” 

You raise a brow, “Cold feet, detective?” 

“Mine are nice and warm. Yours, however...” 

She looks up and down your scantily-clad form with a worried furrow of her brow. It’s sweet, but not needed. 

“I don’t think our plans will keep me anything but warm.” You smile, leaning back against the car while pulling Agnes close, until every inch of her is pressed against your front. Her hands settle on your hips as she kisses you with a softness belaying the vulnerability she still feels, “Unlock the car.” 

“Honey—” 

“Agnes, would you rather I went home?” You murmur. 

“Of course not.” 

“Then what do you want?”

“Beats me.”

“You know what I want?” 

Using your leverage against the vehicle, you draw one of your feet up the inside of Agnes’ leg, careful to press every part of yourself against her. Her warmth radiates through her flannel and jeans and you smile. 

She raises a brow, “I’m sure I can guess.” 

“I want you to bend me over in the backseat of this car like you did that first time. You remember, don’t you? How pissed you were that I’d been teasing you for five dates.” You laugh at the memory, “You couldn’t even make it out of the restaurant parking lot.” 

“You were so loud we almost got caught.” She recalls, voice low, gravelly. 

“There’s no one around to catch us now.” 

Agnes wraps one of her arms around your waist and uses it to tug you sideways, making quick work of unlocking the car. With the hand not on your waist, she opens the back door, and eases her jacket from your shoulders. She lays it out on the cold seats with the warm side up. 

Not for the first time, you’re moved by her consideration of your comfort. It would be so easy for a partner to disregard the little things if it meant getting to the end goal faster; but not Agnes. You reward her with a long, slow kiss. 

When she pulls away, there’s a fond little smile on her lips. She pats your hip, “On your hands and knees.” 

You obey without question. Crawling onto the backseat, you’re reminded of just how confined the space of a car is. You have to keep your head bowed so as not to hit your head on the roof. It’ll be worth your while, but you know the two of you will be feeling the adverse effects of this choice for days. 

Agnes follows and shuts the door behind her. She works her way into the backseat until not a bit of space exists between the two of you. Every inch of her front is pressed against you, draped over you like a warm blanket. You push your backside back into her crotch, teasing. 

“I should’ve sent you home to get your purple.” You say. 

“Be good and you can have my cock later.” 

Warm fingertips trail up the back of your thigh until they snake under the hem of your nightgown. The soothing heat of her touch is lovely compared to the bite of the cold air. You lean into it. 

“Yes, daddy.” You sigh. 

Her body pulls away from yours and you turn, confused. A sharp slap to your backside makes your breath stutter, your core clenching around nothing. Your toes curl. 

“Interesting that you want to be good now, when you’ve been testing me all night.” 

“What can I say? I’m motivated by rewards.” 

You’re satisfied that Agnes seems to be in the moment, rather than locked up in the memories in her head. Intent on keeping it that way, you lean back into her, arching so you can match her entirely. Her muscles go taut and relax and being able to feel it makes you ravenous. 

Two fingers push your ripped panties aside and begin to drag up your slit, teasing. It should be noted that you are trying to be good for her, offering the control she takes to so well. You like to think she can tell, too. 

When she slips her fingers inside you without torturing you further, you’re sure she knows. 

You push back, desperate. You want more of her and bad. It’s as if the orgasms she gave you less than an hour ago never happened. Every muscle in your body quakes with the knowledge of what only Agnes can give you. And you want it so deeply that it threatens to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Please.” You beg without prompting, “Please, more.” 

A split-second hesitation belays her surprise, but she does slip another finger inside, stretching you even wider. You can’t stop how you move, nor the noises that come out of your mouth. You feel cursed with hunger only she can sate. 

It’s this car, this backseat, and the memories here that are driving you so mad. It’s the life attached to it that you never thought you would get; a family, a future, a wife who loves you despite all the ugly parts others had run from. It’s the years you haven’t had to live out alone, the pain you’ve shared. It’s the fact that this act was once a beginning and now it’s an end. 

Her lips press against the back of your neck, impossibly gentle, so unlike the role she’s meant to be playing. Something inside you breaks. 

“Agnes—“ You choke out. 

“It’s okay, honey.” 

You let go. 

You let go from holding yourself back—fucking yourself on her fingers until you shriek with pleasure. You let go of the ball of emotions in your chest, of hunger and pleasure and guilt. You let go of the pain and let tears spill over onto your cheeks. 

It’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s a goodbye to this piece of your life. It’s an end. And it hurts just the same as it feels good to embrace the potential of something new. 

Agnes holds you, steady as ever. You feel the dampness of her own tears on your neck. 

You turn and lay on your back, welcoming the weight of her. You use your thumbs to wipe away the tears coming from her beautiful blue eyes. 

“Am I forgiven, or do we have to go another round?” She asks.

You grin, not taking your hands from her face, “You’re forgiven, my love.” 

“Thank god.” 

Agnes drops her head until it rests on your chest. You laugh, extracting the hair tie so you can run your fingers through the length of it. Her arms wrap around you as much as they can. 

She presses a kiss to your chest, over where your heart is. You gently work through a knot in between your fingers. The windows are clouded with perspiration. Beads of water reflect what little moonlight peeks through the trees. Moonlight or no, you know every dip and curve of your wife’s form, and could identify every part of her without sight. 

The stale coffee smell has worn off, replaced by the faint undertones of the cologne she wears each morning. It’s deep and musky and comforting. 

Maybe it’s the weight of her head on your chest in combination with the memories that makes you speak, “Have you ever thought about us trying again?” 

She tilts her head so she can look up into your eyes without lifting from her resting place. Her brows are furrowed.

“Trying again?”  

The weight of her beautiful eyes on you almost makes you change the subject. These conversations are so much easier without that layer of intimacy. But you’ve started something and you’ll be damned if you don’t finish it. 

“To be parents.” You whisper. 

“I’m a little past due on that, baby.” Her smile is self-deprecating. 

“I’m not.” 

“You never wanted to carry. I remember that much.” 

“That was then.” You continue smoothing through her hair, “Now… If you want to try again, I’ll do it. I want to do it.” 

You can’t decipher the look in her eyes. She doesn’t pull away, but she’s tense. 

“We don’t need to decide right now. We have time.” 

She nods, “Alright.” 

“You’ll still be daddy, even if you aren’t my baby-daddy.” 

“That was terrible.” 

It doesn’t stop her from grinning, nor does it stop you from laughing. Something in the tension eases. You can’t lean down and kiss her like this, so you press a kiss to the pads of your fingers, and press them to her lips. She nips at them playfully. 

The quiet is nice, but you can feel the cold settling into your bones. You need to be back in a heated car before you get sick. 

“When is your shift over?” 

“In a few hours.” 

You nod, figuring out what time she’ll come home and how it fits into your schedule, “I have nothing after work if you want me to make good on those orgasms I owe you.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

It takes some time, but you and Agnes manage to untangle yourselves and worm your way out of the back seat. She sits, keeping you wrapped in her coat, until the inside of your own car is nice and warm. That earns her a few lingering kisses. 

She trails you on the drive home before speeding off to do god knows what during the last few hours of her shift. And when you fall asleep—already feeling sore—an eagerness sets in your chest of what awaits. With an end, a new beginning. 

[hell-isnt-deep-enough-for-me]

Public View

Alex x F!Reader x Sebastian

Warnings: masturbation, smut, panty kink?, voyeurism, semi-public sex,

A/N: honestly just porn. plot if you squint but other than that its just me being horny for Alex and Sebastian

____

You can see the way he looks at you. Eyes scanning your figure as a light blush covered his pale complexion. Lightly biting his lip occasionally as his foot tapped on the ground, trying to distract himself from you to play pool with Sam. But the sight of you was too intoxicating.

It was thrilling. You’ve never had such power over someone like this before. At first, you thought Sebastion was just a shy guy who only talked to his small circle of friends. It turns out you were wrong about how he truly felt about you when you were standing outside his bedroom door two days ago. 

“Mmph…fuck (Y-Y/N)...” The sounds of gasps and pleas coming from his mouth made you smile wickedly as you couldn’t help but bite your lips and rub your thighs together. The stairway to his room was dark, so you were hidden from sight if anyone were to pass by. 

You could hear him choking out moans, and with a twisted grin, you turned the door handle, putting on an innocent facade.

He could hear you talking to his mom upstairs about her building you a new silo. Nothing important, really, but the sound of your voice always got him bothered. Your sickly sweet tune was a song that he never wanted to end. 

God, he was so pathetic. Getting hard at his bed from a simple conversation that wasn’t even directed at him. When you did talk to him, all he could do was stare at whatever part of your body that was filling his needy fantasy of the day. 

It could be something as simple as your lips that had his head reeling. The thought of them wrapped around his cock made his mind foggy. What he wouldn’t give to feel you sucking him dry to the point where he can’t speak words. You’d look up at him with a lustful stare as you teasingly used your nails to scrape the inside of his thigh. With thoughts like these, it was much easier to lay on his bed and free his aching cock from his pants.  With his dick springing up as soon as it was free, he wasted no time grabbing it. Pre already covering his tip. With a shaky moan, he moved his thumb across his slit and had to bite back, letting out a loud whimper. 

His eyes shut harshly as he started spewing random sentences in his horny daze. With every pump from his fist, his cock twitched as his fantasies of you filled his mind. Licking his lips at the thought of you with his cock all the way down your throat had, him bucking into the air. 

He’d barely even started before he could feel his stomach tighten and his toes curl. Cumming so quickly felt even more pathetic than usual. Your name falls off his lips like a chant.

“Hey Sebby-oh my god!” His eyes went wide hearing your voice, knowing he’d been caught in such a vulnerable position. If only that turned him off; instead, the idea of you catching him jerking it off while crying your name managed to fulfill one of his depraved fantasies. 

Your shocked tone while calling his name made him let out a whiny moan as his cock sprayed his cum all over his black hoodie. Having you catch him made him cum even harder than he ever had. He didn’t get the chance to explain himself before you quickly said sorry and left in a hurry, closing his door behind you, leaving him still wanting more. 

~~~

It felt like a walk of shame the way Sebastian walked towards your farm.  Knowing that you saw and heard him moaning out your name made his cheeks burn, and his pants tighten.

God, he was coming over to say sorry and was already getting a hard-on? He’d be disappointed in himself if he cared more. 

Once he made his way through the backroads to your farm, he tried looking around and finding you. Knowing it was early, you should still be working on your farm chores. That way, it could just be you and him, and no one else had to hear what happened. 

While passing by an already-built silo, he noticed you kneeling by the water in the small lake on your property. He hid behind the silo to watch you for a second, see what you were doing. You were covered in dirt and sweat. Despite your appearance, he couldn’t help but imagine the body you hid under your clothes. 

“Can’t believe I dropped my fishing pole.” Your annoyed voice only stirred his cock awake as he watched you try to grab your submerged fishing pole. Your body contorted as you tried desperately to get your fishing pole without getting into the water. Leaving you ass up as you hold onto the edge of the pond for dear life

“Just a little more-” Your fingers reached into the cold water, making you release a ‘brrr’ in response. The fishing pole was right there underneath your hand, and all you had to do was move a little bit deeper-

“Shit!” The edge you held onto gave way, making you splash into the cold water of the pond. Your entire body was submerged in the pond before you returned for air with the fishing pole in hand. You felt your body shake in response to the cold water. You rush out of the cold water to avoid hyperthermia. Your wet clothes clung to your skin, squeaking with every move you made. 

The way your clothes hugged your body had Sebastian's cock throbbing in his pants. He could see your bra through your wet shirt. The way the water cascaded down your face had him sweating, thinking about it being his cum flowing down your face instead.

He could see you dropping your fishing pole beside you as you tried pushing your wet hair away from your eyes and rubbing them, trying to regain your sight. He kept looking at you from behind the silo, cursing himself for how his cock was aching for you. He came here to apologize, and here he was, struggling to not pump his cock out in the open while watching you.

Just then, your closed eyes opened. 

“Finally, I can see.” You looked around, hoping no one saw you go face-first into the water. You were almost convinced that no one saw until you saw a familiar patch of black hair in your peripheral vision. You let out a chuckle before turning your head in his direction.

“You have your fun staring?” With a dark blush covering his cheeks, he steps out from behind the silo. Putting his hands in his pockets as you see him trying to hide the visible tent in his pants. 

~~~

You took your time finding an outfit to bring to the saloon. It was much more skimpy than your usual attire. The dress you chose managed to cover your ass by only a hair. One wrong move, and it’d be out on display. Your dress even granted the perfect view of your cleavage. Knowing that this was a drastic change in attire, you couldn’t wait to see what would Sebastian’s reaction to seeing even more of your exposed skin. You had him trapped by friends and with people everywhere, nowhere to go to play with his pretty cock.

Watching him struggle to pay attention to Sam’s pool moves made you giggle. His eyes stared at your chest longer than it was at the pool table. His eyes trying to commit every piece of skin to his memory. You caught his eyes, and while his eyes widened, you sent him a little wink as you looked toward the man that just walked into the saloon. 

It was pretty shocking to see the jock here, knowing he never comes to the saloon. But your question was answered when you heard him ordering for his grandparents. What a sweetie.

“Hey Alex, can I borrow you for a second while you wait for your food?” Alex’s eyes scan your form as a lustful glint fills his eyes before smiling at you. 

“Sure, what do you need?” You grab his hand, telling him to follow you. You lead him towards the backroom of the saloon, not before sending Sebastian another wink as you licked your lips at him. The simple gesture had Sebastion growing hard in his pants, and his legs turned into jelly. He had to excuse himself, lying to his friends that he needed to go to the bathroom. Which was conveniently right next to the backroom you had led Alex into not moments earlier. 

Through the slightly dark room, he couldn’t find you or Alex. But he could definitely hear soft gasps and barely audible moans. His cock twitched in his pants with excitement as he desperately tried to find where you and Alex hid. 

Hiding behind some barrels, he saw you and Alex completely hidden from the view of the saloon. Sebastian moved closer silently to get a better look at what was going on outside from his hiding spot. You or Alex didn’t seem to notice him…yet. His cock stirred in his pants as he watched you and Alex share saliva and kiss each other harshly. Your back was pinned against the wall while your legs were wrapped around Alex’s waist. Your hands move over his shirt in a teasing way.

He was never the biggest fan of Alex, but seeing the jock grind against your clothed pussy, making you let out such beautiful noises had him pulling his pants down so his cock could be slightly exposed to the cold air of the saloon. He bit his lip harshly to not give away his location to the people he was watching.

“Gonna fuck ya real good. Have you fucked out to the point you only know how to say my name.” Alex’s words sent shivers down Sebastian’s spine. His cock twitched at the thought of you being so blissed out that you only knew the name of the person who was stuffing you full with their cock.

“Bet you even wore this dress just to get fucked, huh? Wearing something that barely covers your ass and that gives everyone a great view of your tits had to be on purpose. I bet everyone wants to pound their cock into you. Wanting a taste of the farmer whore.” Hearing such words leave Alex’s mouth made Sebastion feel even more like a pervert than he already did. Hiding behind some barrels, watching his crush about to get absolutely ravished in front of him. 

The sound of Alex’s zipper coming undone and the look on your face as you grabbed his hair and pulled him over for a kiss. He could hear the harsh kissing before you let go and started kissing and licking up his neck, hearing Alex's breathy noise in return. Once he heard you gasp, Sebastian moved even closer to the both of you. He was a little more exposed here, but he just needed to see.

You bit your lip as Alex pushed up your dress high enough that it bunched up so he could see your perfect ass. He caught Alex moving your panties to the side as he prepared to fill you up. Even from behind the barrels, he could see how wet you’d become simply from the damp spot on your panties. Sebastion bit his lip when he saw Alex lining up his cock to your cunt. Grabbing his own cock even harsher at the sight of Alex’s fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

Before you could say anything, Alex’s hips moved back before slamming into you harsh enough to knock the wind out of you and had Sebastian bucking up into thin air. The sound of Alex’s hips meeting your pelvis with every thrust made your toes curl and had you letting out cute moans and whines. Your moans, along with Alex’s sighs, had Sebastian gripping his cock harder as he tried to fuck his fist to match the same pace you were being fucked at.

“So tight..feels so fucking nice.” Alex’s words only interested the hidden man even more in what was happening. The sound of skin slapping against skin quickened. He could see tears form in your eyes as you pulled Alex even closer to you. You wanted to taste the man turning your insides into jelly. Trying to speak straight grew harder as you felt Alex move his hand between the two of you and start to rub your clit at a pace that was just perfect. The sight had Sebastian’s eyes glossy as he tried to hold himself back from cumming. He wanted cum at the same time you did. But that was proving to be much more difficult.

While watching you marking up Alex’s neck with bites and kisses, he noticed that your eyes moved from Alex over to him. Exactly where he would be hiding. Sebastian felt his blood go cold as you moaned out from a particularly hard thrust, looking directly at him. He saw your eyes fill with lust as the room felt hotter. 

You dug your fingers into Alex’s hair and pulled him closer. The feeling of the jock’s lips against your own made you smile. So soft as he bit your bottom lip, enticing a little moan out of you. The way his rough fingers rubbed your clit had you shaking as you gripped onto his jacket just for stability. 

Your eyes couldn’t help but move over to the hidden man behind the barrels. You liked the sight of Sebastian’s wide-eyed red face when he noticed you caught him watching. The feeling of being watched only made you more turned on. Knowing someone as cute as Sebastian was watching you get fucked in the back of a storage room made your legs quiver. You let out a loud moan when you felt Alex’s cock hit a particular part inside you, making you see stars. 

Alex’s name became a mantra as you cried his name. Letting anyone close enough to hear what was happening. The way you cried out to him was so intoxicating. Sebastian studied your blissed-out face as he desperately tried to match Alex’s thrusts. He could feel his stomach tighten with every pump of his cock. Biting his lip harder to avoid giving himself away, he tried to hold back just so he could cum at the same time you did. 

Thankfully, after all the harsh thrusts Alex delivered to your cunt, your toes curled, and he could see how your face contorted to pleasure. Alex grabbed you by your hair and kissed you to swallow your moans. The sight had Sebastian finally able to cum all over the saloon floor in front of him. He clenched his teeth to avoid letting out a loud cry of your name.

“Alex! Please!..I can’t-” Your whines only stirred the hidden male’s cock back alive as he saw the jock's hips begin to stutter and how his breath became more ragged.

“What a slut, your cunt squeezing me so tight. Gonna fill you up to the point it’ll be dripping down your legs when we walk back. Let everyone know the true whore you are.” The image of you walking back to the open crowd with cum flowing down your legs had Sebastian's already overstimulated cock ready to release once again.

With a few more stutters of Alex’s hips, he stilled inside you with a shaky breath. You let out a loud moan as you squeezed your eyes shut. The simple sight had Sebastian shooting another load onto the saloon floor. He desperately tried to be able to breathe normally. His body shook as he continued to stare at your ruined form. 

The sound of Alex pulling out of you had him gulping as he watched yours and Alex’s cum drip onto the floor. He could see the mess you’ve become from being used so thoroughly. Your legs quivered as you tried to catch your breath. Alex’s hands rubbed your still exposed hips while kissing your bruised lips.

“I wanna keep these, just as a little reminder. So be a good girl and take them off for me, hmm?” Without a second thought, you unhook your legs from Alex’s waist and put your feet on the ground. Your legs shake as you do what he asks. The sound of Alex’s zipper closing reminded him to do the same. With a red face, you handed him the cute panties you hid underneath that short dress. 

“What a good girl. Now you better run along, or everyone will see you as the slut you are.” Nodding your head, you quickly walk around Alex before letting out a loud yelp as Alex smacks your ass harshly. He let out a chuckle at your reaction. As you walked out of view, you sent another lustful stare at the man hiding behind the barrels. 

After waiting a few moments, Alex started to walk away as well, only to stop directly in front of Sebastian's hiding spot.

“You have your fun, pervert?” His blood ran cold at Alex’s words.

“Here, you obviously need them more than me.” With a cocky laugh, the jock tossed your panties directly toward him before walking off.

Even though he was caught, the fantasy of it happening again plagued his mind as he shoved the soaked cloth into his hoodie pocket.

[asharasasylum]

Pretty Baby I ♡  Rafe Cameron x Step/Adopted!Sister Reader

author's note: I needed to publish something and I found this saved in my drafts. It’s in 2 parts. (Part 2 in now here) It’s not really edited either and not amazing so I’m sorry about that. I do want to say the main character is inspired by Nicola Peltz character in backroads. Please really read the warnings with this one. warnings: Dark. Abuse. Violence. Child Abuse. Parental abuse. Angst. Trauma responses. Obsession from both ends. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Toxic relationship!! Aged up characters. Step-cest. Eventual Smut. Eventual character death. 18+ MDNI

He's your saviour, your knight in shining armour but he can also be your own worst enemy.

It was your tenth birthday when your father was finally arrested. 

While he deserved it, truly deserved it, you didn’t care. 

All you could do was cry as you sat at the back of Peterkin’s car, babbling about how you just wanted to see your daddy. 

It must have been a few hours later, time rolling into the late hours of the night and you were still with Peterkin. Only you had found yourself in the police station, tear stained face as you bit at the nail of your thumb. 

“Y/N.” 

You turned to look up at Peterkin to find her standing beside a man you didn’t recognise. 

“This is Ward Cameron,” Peterkin introduced you, with a small smile. 

The man tried to give you a smile but his face dropped as soon as he took you in. You hadn’t realised how bad your appearance was then, the purple marks that covered your skin were a normality you were accustomed to. 

Peterkin took Ward a few steps from you, somewhere they thought you couldn’t hear. 

“Did he- Did he do that to her?” Ward questioned. 

Peterkin just nodded. 

“But he’s her father,” Ward was in clear disbelief as he spoke, pointing at you. 

“And now she has no one.” 

That’s all Ward apparently needed to hear, throwing his jacket over your shoulders as he directed you to his car. 

He tried to make light conversation in the car, bringing up things he thought you might like, only to find him stumbling on his words each time you said you didn’t know what he was talking about. But he never stopped trying, and you think you were glad for that. 

It was the next day that you met everyone, all of them welcoming you with open arms, excluding Rafe. 

He had glared at you, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. It was almost as if he was waiting for the opportunity to crack your school open on the wall behind you. He just needed you to give him reason enough to do so. 

You didn’t know when he stopped looking at you like that but eventually a few years down the line you and Rafe were more akin than you had ever believed possible. Even if there was still that anger that bubbled underneath Rafe’s skin when he looked at you, a tinge of coldness behind those eyes. 

You were fifteen when Rafe saved you and at that age you still seemed to hate each other more than ever. 

“I can’t believe you’re forcing me to come to the wreck with you and your stupid friends,” you huffed, leaning against the car window. 

“Dad said I need to look after you while they’re out for a few days,” Rafe argued back, yanking your arm off of his window. “You’re going to get marks over my car.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, settling for resting your arms in your lap. “I’m sure he just meant to watch out for me, not drag me to everything you’re doing.” 

“It’s food at the wreck. I’m sure you’ll cope.” 

You didn’t know who you hated more at times, Rafe or his friends. The arrogance that radiated off of them at all times made you want to vomit in your mouth. You never understood why they bothered to come to this side of the island if all they wanted to do was sit and make jokes about the people that lived here. 

It was within ten minutes that you found yourself outside, walking along the boardwalk. The gentle North Carolina breeze brushed against your skin as you stared out into the bay. It was quiet, too cool outside for people to be lingering. 

That’s what you had thought until a familiar voice was calling your name. 

“Y/N… it’s you, isn’t it?” 

Your stomach dropped and as if your body was working on autopilot, you froze to the spot. 

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Precautions had been put in place to stop this from happening, restraining orders filed and prison walls to keep him locked up and away from you. Wherever Ward had needed to do, he had made sure to do it. 

But clearly it hadn’t been enough as your dad stood a few feet away from you, inching close every second. 

“Baby, I’ve missed you so much,” he said, hands reaching out for you. 

He looked the exact same, the blackness around his eyes from years of addiction and the cracked lips. He sounded the same too. 

And when he took a step forward, you were ten years old all over again. 

“You can’t be here,” you finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I-I had to s-see you,” he stuttered, hand reaching forward as he got closer. 

Only now you were finally walking back. 

“Baby. It’s me.” 

“You can’t be near me,” you spoke louder this time, trying to put space between the pair of you.

But your dad was faster and without warning his hand latched around your neck, yanking your body towards him. 

“Dad, please,” you pleaded, eyes wide as you tried to pry his hands from your throat. 

“It was you that put that order against me,” he spat, grip tightening. “I knew it was you.” 

He was shaking, veins popping out the side of his head. You knew the look, it was the first thing you saw when you closed your eyes at night. But it changed slightly, he had never been this enraged before. It was like he wanted to kill you, like taking his temper out on you for years wasn’t enough. 

“It was you that called the police that day, wasn’t it?” 

You shook your head, a sob caught at the back of your throat as you told him, “No, I swear.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

“I swear it wasn’t me.” 

“I did five fucking years in that prison because of you.” 

His grip was bruising and you weren’t sure if the fact you couldn’t breathe was because of his hands on your neck or because you were choking on your own sobs. 

Your ears were ringing so loud that you didn’t hear Rafe running over to you. But you saw him when his fist flew into your father’s cheek and you watched as his foot slammed into your father’s body over and over again. 

“Don’t you ever touch her,” Rafe screamed into the man’s face, dropping to his knees as he drove his fist into your father’s face. 

Kelce and Topper eventually pried Rafe off of your father, realising that he probably wasn’t going to stop until he killed him. 

You were surprised he wasn’t already dead yet, his lifeless body covered in blood and bruises as he wheezed out a breath. 

Rafe was quick to cover your view, grabbing your face in his battered hands as he held you. 

“Are you okay?” Rafe questioned, eyes staring into yours. 

You were crying, you hadn’t realised how badly until Rafe touched your soaked cheeks. 

“Why didn’t you scream for me?” His voice was panicked, blue eyes running over you to check you were okay. 

“I’m sorry,” you broke into a fit of sobs, unsure of what else to say. 

Rafe pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly as he wrapped his arms around yours. “You don’t need to apologise. You haven’t done anything wrong, Y/N.” 

Rafe didn’t leave you alone that night and you were grateful for that. It must have been hours before you calmed down, sobs turning into sniffles as Rafe consoled you. But eventually it happened. 

“No ones ever done something like that for me,” you told Rafe, eyes finally peering up at him through wet lashes. 

“I care about you,” Rafe’s voice was gentle as he spoke, a sincerity to it that you had never heard before. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” 

You chuckled then, you hadn’t meant to because what you were thinking wasn’t really funny but you had. 

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought you hated me,” you confessed.

“I don’t hate you.” his lips lifted into a smile then. “I guess I haven’t always been the best brother.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay. You deserve better.” 

There was a sort of silence that fell over the pair of you then. One you were eager to fill, unsure how to process Rafe’s words. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” You asked.

“Of course.” 

It was Rafe’s gentle breaths that eased you into a sleep that night, face buried into his chest as he continued to hold you. 

That was the first night of many. 

Everytime you found yourself awoken to your own gasps of breath, it was Rafe who you sought after for comfort. You’d always be knocking on his door at odd times in the night, wet round eyes looking up at him, pleading for entrance that he was so willing to give. 

It was Ward that had to intervene, finding you in Rafe’s bed one morning. 

Then sleepovers with Rafe were switched for therapy sessions and while you were desperate to get them back, you knew that going against Ward wasn’t something either of you really wanted to do. 

So you didn’t even though you always really wanted to. 

From then on it was a thin line that you and Rafe tread along. 

One that was quickly blurring with each word that slipped past his lips. 

“It’s fucking disgusting, do you know that?” Rafe spat, storming away with your phone in his hand. “Fucking throwing yourself at my friends like a slut.” 

“He gave me his number. Not the other way round,” you shouted at him, chasing him through the greenery. 

All of Rafe’s friends were staring at you, used to the constant arguments between you and your older brother by now. But luckily you had put some space between you and them, the words that were threatening to spill from your mouth you didn’t want them to hear. 

“And you were lapping every single bit of it up,” he shouted, facing you now. 

“Is that so wrong?” You asked, throwing your hands up in frustration. “I think you seem to forget that my dating life has literally nothing to do with you.” 

You could feel the anger pouring off him, nose flared and eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you. “It’s hard not to make it my business when you embarrass me in front of all my friends.” 

“Fuck you, Rafe.” You hit your hands on his chest in a pathetic hope it would hurt him. 

He seized your arm, yanking your body towards his. 

“I hate you,” you swore, wishing the words into existence. Even though you knew they’d never come true. 

Rafe saw right through you, shaking his head as he laughed. “You hate me?” 

“I fucking hate you, Rafe. You’re awful.” 

“I guess you won’t mind if I do this then.” 

Within a second your phone was smashed to the ground, his foot following it. 

You screamed at him as he did it, fists flying at him as you kept repeating that you hated him. It’s like he didn’t even hear you, didn’t even feel you as he continued to break your phone into pieces on the ground. 

“You’re a fucking psycho,” you hissed.

He turned to you, eyes clouded with a darkness that almost frightened you. Almost. 

When his hand reached to touch you, you slapped it away. 

“Let’s go,” he demanded, stepping over your phone as he walked to the direction of the car park. 

With a tearful gaze you followed him, not even bothering to pick up your shattered phone on the way. 

There was no use fighting him, not when he was like this. It’s not like you wanted to argue against him, not here anyway. There were things you were itching to say. Things that couldn’t be said in front of the likes of the people here. In front of anyone really. 

When he shoved you into the car, those feelings bubbled up into your chest, hard to ignore when his fingers touched your skin. They dragged along the column of your chest, eyes following them as they trailed upwards, reaching to grip around your throat. 

“Do you like embarrassing me?” He said, voice low as it cut through you. 

“Do you like hurting me?” You retorted back. 

He shook his head, kissing his teeth. “Don’t…” 

He bit down on his words, hand dropping as he turned away from you. 

But you knew exactly what he was going to say. 

Because you were thinking it. 

//

Rafe had been walking on eggshells around the house all evening with you. He lurked behind corners when you were around, clearly waiting for the right moment to talk to you. 

It wasn’t till you were fighting with your late night thoughts, making your way down to the kitchen for a moment of peace, that he found you.

You felt him before you heard him, feeling his body slowly gravitating towards you. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“No,” you were cold as you answered him. 

“You’re still mad at me,” he stated. 

You twisted around to look at him in the darkness of the kitchen, wanting to glare at him, to cuss him out but you struggled to find the energy to even do so. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

But he didn’t need to apologise, his words barely touching your ears when his scent was crowding your senses. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rafe shook his head, age turning away from you. “Stop.” 

“I don’t mean to,” you croaked, unable to take your wet gaze away from his face. 

He sighed, rubbing his jaw with his thumb as if taking a second to contemplate something. All it took was another look at you and it was as if his decision had already been made.

“Dad’s gone for the weekend,” he told you, eyes finally lifting up to yours. “He won't be back till Monday.” 

He didn’t need to ask, you both knew what he was saying and you both knew what your answer would be. You’d never said no to Rafe before. Why would tonight be any different? 

You always took the left side of Rafe’s bed. It was the closest to the door, easiest to get to in ungodly hours when you needed him. He was always accommodating, leaving the space for you free even after months of you not being there. It was second nature for both of you at this point, even when you didn’t want it to be. 

There was something oddly comforting about it. The fact that Rafe after months still slept on the same side of the bed as if he was always waiting for you to take the other side.

For years it had always just felt like a delusional fantasy. But in the last few months, especially with the way Rafe had been acting, you felt your mind starting to believe that the feelings you had could possibly be shared. 

It's all you could think about as you stared into his eyes, his fingers playing with yours. It’s all you thought about.

“Rafe,” you whispered. 

He hummed in acknowledgment, fingers sliding under the bottom of your top as he rubbed your sides. 

You couldn’t help but sigh at the subtle touch, stirring a heat inside you that was hard to ignore. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“You know,” You swallowed, struggling to get the right words out. 

There were so many things to say but how were you even supposed to say them? 

Rafe closed his eyes, hand tightening around your hip as he gripped onto it. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, it was more of a gentle squeeze, something you mistook as reassurance. 

It was hard not to lean into him, brushing your nose against his. Everything about it felt right, even if it was entirely wrong. 

“Rafe,” you breathed, your words touching his lips. 

His hand retracted from you and suddenly his words were saying things you didn’t want to hear. Things you hadn’t expected to hear. 

“Don’t,” it was quiet, hardly above a whisper as it left his lips. 

“What?” You were taken back entirely.

“You can’t stay in here if you’re going to kiss me,” he answered through clenched teeth. 

“Right.” 

But nothing about this felt right as you retreated from him. 

Had you completely misread all the signs? Had you really been feeding so much into your delusional fantasies that actually believed they could come true? 

His hand being snatched was like a final cord that snapped in you and just couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“So you don’t want me but you don’t want anyone else to have me?” You asked, sitting up on the bed. “Make it make sense.” 

“You’re my sister, Y/N. Am I not allowed to be over protective with you?” He retorted back.

“No, because it’s not just that,” your words were getting caught in your throat, desperate to come out. “You- You don’t act that way with a sister and you know that.” 

“You’re reading into things-“ 

“Fuck you, Rafe,” you hit at him, this time it had been with a force that meant to hurt. “I’m not crazy and don’t make me feel like I am.” 

Everything was rising to the service suddenly, all the feelings you had bottled up for years, threatening to drown you if you didn’t let them out. 

“You know how I feel.” Tears filled your eyes as you gazed down at him, pleading for some sort of reaction. 

“Maybe I step over the line of being inappropriate with you,” he tried to say. “And I don’t mean to do that but that doesn’t mean-“ 

“Oh my fucking god,” you almost laughed at his words.

He was spouting bullshit at you, words he probably told millions of other girls after leading them on for ages, only to drop them as if they were nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. 

But you weren’t just any girl. 

“You’re going to wake everyone up,” he hissed as if he was mad at you. 

You wanted to hurt him then. You had never wanted to hurt Rafe before, maybe get under his skin from time to time or push his buttons. But you wanted him to bleed for you like you did for him. 

“You’re sick,” you spat at him. 

His hand reached out towards you and you slapped it away. 

“I’m not some random fucking girl, Rafe,” you cried, shaking beside him. “You’re evil.” 

You couldn’t even look at him, too scared of how you might react. 

You needed to leave that room, try and save the last bit of sanity you might have left. 

It wasn’t hard when Rafe didn’t even try to pull you back in, not even saying anything to make you stay. 

“You know I didn’t want to say it before but you do remind me of him.” 

The last place you had expected to find yourself had been the cut, drinking and smoking with Sarah and her friends. But after a week of you wallowing in your own self pity, Sarah was growing incredibly worried. Most of your household was. 

You wondered if they knew what happened, especially with the way you acted in the house. It wasn’t hard to notice you were avoiding Rafe in your own home. You two were always drawn to each other, practically spending every second together in that house, to laugh, to chat, to fight. It didn’t matter how happy or upset you were, you were always found together. 

But every time he stepped into a room, you were looking to find the quickest exit. Never being in a room with him for longer than a second. 

You needed space from him as much as you possibly could get. As much as he would even allow you. 

You weren’t sure if Rafe knew where you were and there was some part in you that hoped he did, wanting him to be so angry with you in this second. You just wanted him to feel something for you, even if it came through a deep anger that had you flinching from him. 

You swallowed the rest of your drink at that, trying to forget even if it was just for a few seconds. But there was always something pulling you back in. 

This time it was Sarah, phone in hand as she grabbed your attention with a call of your name. 

“Yeah?” You asked, trying to muster a small smile. 

“It’s Rafe,” she told you, signaling to her phone. “He won’t stop calling me. He’s asking to speak to you.” 

“No,” you simply said but your face twisted into something hideous. 

You could tell in the way Sarah instantly listened to you, telling Rafe some excuse about why you wouldn’t talk to me. 

But you knew she wouldn’t drop it that easily. It’s why seconds later you found her sitting next to you, wearing a weary look as she took you in. 

“You know you can talk to me,” Sarah whispered, hand reaching out for yours. 

“I know,” you nodded. 

“Did something happen between you and Rafe?” She asked, squeezing your hand. 

You looked at her then, furrowing your brows. 

“Did he do something to you?” 

You snatched your hand from hers, eyes widening at her suggestion. 

“I see the way he looks at you,” she continued, a scowl sitting on her lips as the thought crossed her mind. “It’s sickening.” 

“He didn’t touch me,” you confessed.

How were you supposed to tell her that was the reason you were upset? Because he wouldn’t touch you. 

“Can’t I just be mad at him because he’s the biggest asshole on this whole island?” 

“You can say that again,” she agreed. “We all hate him here.” 

“I don’t hate him,” the words rolled off your tongue like second nature, always ready to defend Rafe even when you knew you shouldn’t.

“I don’t get it,” she sarcastically laughed, shaking her head. “I swear Rafe could burn this whole island to the ground, taking me and the rest of our family with it and you’d just hold his hand as he did it.” 

“That’s not true, Sarah.” Your face softened when you looked at her. “You mean everything to me.” 

“But Rafe means more, right?” 

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s different with Rafe. You know that.” 

“But he’s a bad person.” 

“You know how he’s been there for me. When literally no one else has. You know what he’s done for me.” 

“I know that he saved you from your dad-“ 

She reached out to touch you again but this time you didn’t want to hear it, moving to walk away. But Sarah followed. 

“I know that must have been awful for you but you can’t just let him hold that over you,” her voice grew as she chased you, catching the eyes of the group. 

“I don’t let him hold that over me.” You both knew that was a lie. 

“He treats you like shit,” she screamed at you, making you finally turn her way. “He treats everyone terribly but I honestly think he treats you the worst. I don’t get it because you just let him.” 

“You don’t have to understand,” your voice was shaky as you spoke, arms crossing over your chest. “I don’t need you to understand because honestly I don’t understand it myself.” 

“He’s never going to treat you the way you want him to treat you.” Sarah looked at you defeated, arms held up as she backed away. “It’s not in Rafe’s nature to be nice.” 

You couldn’t tell your sister that you didn’t exactly want Rafe to be nice to you. 

In reality you couldn’t care if he was nice to you.

You enjoyed it when he was mean to you, bitter words cutting through you when he wanted to get under your skin. 

And sure if the only way he was going to touch you would be a bruising grip on your wrists or his hand wrapped around your throat, you’d take it. 

But you did also crave for him to be nice to you, sweet like when he soothed your cries with his fingers grazing your back. His voice gentle as he hushed you, lying beside you in his bed. 

You wanted every bit of Rafe you could get, the good and the bad. You wanted all of it for yourself. 

But that wasn’t happening anytime soon, not with his arm draped around some random girl. 

You hadn’t known why you forced yourself to come to this party, the annual bonfire was usually something you attended with Rafe by your side. It was your thing. 

The idea of booze and friendly faces, had been a nice idea earlier this morning. But as you stared around the familiar faces, you felt nothing but dread. 

Dread at the thought that this was how life was going to be. A constant numbness holding your body captive. 

“You want another one?” JJ asked, holding a can out for you. 

“Thanks,” you nodded, taking it from his hands.

“You know you don’t have to stand over here by yourself,” JJ stated, bumping his elbow with yours. “We don’t bite even if Rafe says we do.” 

Your face flushed in embarrassment at that, you didn’t want them to think you thought of them like that. There had been days when you possibly had judged them too harshly, you had never meant to, it was just easier to listen to Rafe then. 

Even though you could tell JJ meant it as a joke, your lips parted instantly wanting to defend yourself.

“It’s not like that,” you tried to reassure him. “I’m just-“ 

“I’m joking with you,” he chuckled lightly. 

Your body relaxed at that and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“You want to talk about what’s got you so down?” He asked, taking space beside you. “Or are you one of those that drinks their problems away.” 

You took another swig from your, answering his questions. 

“I see.” 

“I’m not actually much of a drinker if I’m honest,” you told him. “My- uh-” You weren’t sure why you were saying it but JJ made you feel comfortable, feeling the honesty slip from you. 

“Your dad?” The amused tone had dropped from his voice, smile faded as he took a swig from his beer. “I know the feeling, trust me.” 

“Yeah.” You forget that almost everyone knew about your situation. Rafe’s saviour moment when you were fifteen had been spread across all local newspapers. 

“But you know can’t let trauma hold you back.” He pressed the bottle to his lips with a smirk and a wink in your direction. “When in Rome.” 

You laughed at that, catching you off guard as you responded, “We’re not in rome.” 

“I know.” He shrugged, smiling along with you. 

JJ would be good for you. He seemed sweet and genuine, he understood a lot of the trauma you had gone through. You had heard enough about him through Sarah and Kiara when they were around and if he treated girls anything like how John B treated Sarah, you were sure he would be a catch. 

But as your eyes peered into his and your laughter died down, you could only think of one person. The same person who was burning holes in the back of your skull as you turned to face him. 

Rafe was still standing on his side of the bonfire but the girl that had been all over him before was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t walk over to you, didn’t say anything or motion to follow him but as feet took off, you already found yourself making an excuse. 

“I’m really sorry but I got to run,” you told JJ, trying your best to give him an apologetic glance. 

He nodded, not seeming too disappointed nor surprised at your sudden departure but there was a slight look of confusion on his face. 

You ignored it, not really caring about it as you pushed yourself to your feet. All you could think about was following Rafe’s larger steps, letting him lead you to where all the cars were parked, where no one else would be able to see you. 

His truck was in a secluded area, parked by trees that shadowed it. It wasn’t close to any walkways and it was enclosed by other surrounding cars. 

It didn’t surprise you when you were suddenly slammed to Rafe’s door, a hand wrapping around your throat to keep you held there. He always lurked in the eerie silence, waiting for a moment to pounce Rafe, especially when it came to you. But what had surprised you was how tight his grip was, finding yourself wheezing for air as you looked at him. 

“You like slutting it out for pogues, hmm?” He hissed, leaning into you. 

Even in the darkness you could see how blown out his eyes were, the light shade of blue being overpowered by black. When his grip tightened even more, you actually became frightened, eyes widening at the sight of him. 

“Like opening your legs for trash?” He spat. 

You let out a strangled breath, becoming frantic as you tore at his hand to get off. Normally that was all that it would take but today Rafe wasn’t letting up and your pleas were being ignored. 

“So angry with me that you would debase yourself like that. I mean my friends were one thing.” He shook his head, jaw clenching as tears glazed his eyes. “But fucking JJ Maybank.” 

He dropped you then, letting you collapse to the ground as he took a step away from you. 

You were gasping for breath, hand holding onto your neck in disbelief of what had just happened. 

All of a sudden Sarah’s words rang in your head and you thought maybe you didn’t want to be treated like this anymore. 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” 

Your head twisted around at that, finding Rafe’s pacing form as you said, “You can’t look at me right now?” Tears were streaming down your face as you took a second to get up, staring at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

Rafe turned around, eyes narrowing at you. 

“You’re exactly like him-” 

“Don’t fucking start with that bullshit,” He went to argue, pointing in your face. 

“No, you are,” you laughed, finally realising. “You’re exactly like my dad. Everytime you hurt me you always have a reason to blame me. It’s always my fault.” 

Rafe smirked at that, nodding as if he was in agreement. “Yeah, it’s why you always come running back when I apologise. So eager for more.” 

Your hand connected with his face and you heard it before you felt it. Your hand stung afterwards and when Rafe began to laugh as a reaction, you immediately regretted it. 

“Is it my turn?” He questioned, a smug smirk on his lips. 

“You’re sick.” Tears were streaming down your face, painting your cheeks and chin. Yet he didn’t seem to care one bit. 

He only turned away, stepping round the truck and calling out to you. “Get in.” 

Without hesitation you did. 

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: id luv if u could make one of car crash with the Impala and she gets pretty bad if she survives or nah it's up to u thanx

A/N: I hope you like this! Please comment if you like this so it helps me figure out if I should continue writing or not! Requests are still open. I have a ton of them that I’m working on and they are all such good ideas!

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Car accident

You bounced down the halls trying to find Dean. You turned into the kitchen and saw him sitting at the table.

You grinned, “Oh Deanooooo!” You sung with a big smile on your face as you made your way over to him and sat down.

He looked at you and sighed, “what are you going to ask me for?” He asked before chuckling, already knowing you were scheming for something.

“Pretty pretty please can I take the Impala to go get ice cream?” You asked, sliding off the seat and landing on your knees into a praying position in front of him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “didn’t I just get you an entire gallon of ice cream the other day?” He asked.

“Okay yes and then you proceeded to finish the entire thing!” You whined.

“Okay yeah, I did do that didn’t I?” He asked laughing at himself before shrugging and giving an oops expression.

“Yeah you did,” you sassed, “so can I please take the Impala to get some more?” You begged still on your knees in front of him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine.” He said, shooing you away.

“Wooooooo!” You cheered in victory and jumped up off the floor before turning back to Dean. “Do you want something?” You asked, already knowing that he was going to.

“Hmmm can you get me a rocky road with hot fudge?” He asked. You nodded and went to walk away before you heard him shout again, “wait with m&ms too!”

“Got it!” You said.

“And whipped cream!” He exclaimed.

You chuckled and turned back around to look at him, “just text it to me Dean. See ya!” You said, grabbing the keys and walking out of the kitchen.

“Okay, okay, drive safe!” You heard him shout before running into Sammy.

“Where are you off to bug?” He asked. “And how’d you get Dean to let you drive the car?” He chuckled, seeing you holding the keys.

“I’m getting ice cream do you want anything?” You asked, turning around to face him while walking backwards towards the door.

“Nope I’m all good be careful and drive safe!” Sam shouted after you.

“Yessir!” You saluted him and continued your way out of the bunker.

You got into the car and made your way to the ice cream shop. It was around 9pm so it was dark, but the full moon lit up the sky and the backroads that you were on. You admired how beautiful the moon was and continued to drive. As soon as you drove around a bend, a car came out of no where and swerved into your lane to avoid hitting what looked like a werewolf running across the road.

“What the hell!” You shouted and immediatly jerked the impala. In an attempt to correct yourself, you overcorrected and spun out. You screamed as the car spun off the road and was making its way towards the trees. You braced for impact as you slammed into a tree. You cried out as your head hit the steering wheel. The impact of the tree flipped the car over and you felt the car rolling down the ditch until it stopped upside down. Glass was everywhere and you were aching in pain. You whimpered as your hand went to your head. It was gashed and gushing blood. Panic began to set in when you realized you were stuck hanging upside down by your seatbelt. You tried to get yourself down and maneuver your body so you could get up straight, but it was no use. The seatbelt was jammed and it was making a clicking sound that pulled you in closer. Your heart stopped when you remembered that it was a full moon and that you were almost positive there was a werewolf roaming around. You immediately reached for your phone that was in your pocket to call for help. You knew Sam would be more level headed than Dean and if you heard Dean panicking then you’d start to freak out even more. You felt extremely weak and quickly dialed his number.

“Hey, what’s up?” Sam answered.

“Sammy.” You whimpered, terrified and in pain.

“Hey hey hey what’s wrong?” He asked frantically.

“I’m scared.” You sobbed unable to keep your emotions in check any longer.

“What’s wrong?!” He asked once again in panic. You could hear Dean in the background asking what was happening and you let out another sob.

“Hey bug I need you to talk to me alright?” Sam asked calmly trying to get control of the situation.

“A ca-car swerved into my lane an- and I- I jerked the car and swerved o- off the road and c-crashed.” You cried, thinking about how badly you hurt and how the impala was totaled. You let out another sob, “Sammy the c- car is destroyed I- I’m so sorry please tell Dean I’m so sorry.” You cried.

You heard the phone rustling before you heard Dean’s voice.

“Hey kid, I don’t care about the car alright? Are you hurt?” He asked with concern in his voice.

“Everything hurts,” you cried, “And I’m stuck hanging upside down! And I think there’s a werewolf roaming around because something ran across the roads which caused the other person to swerve and I’m trapped in the car!” You panicked, completely frightened for your life. Not only were you aching in pain and trapped in the car, but there was another physical threat roaming in the woods you were stuck in. Your luck was completely terrible because this sequence of events just had to happen to you.

“Okay, okay deep breath kid everything’s going to be alright, okay? Sam just tracked your phone, we’ll be there in 7 minutes. You’re going to be alright.” Dean said calmly trying to soothe you, but you knew he was freaking the hell out.

“My head really hurts!” You whimpered, reaching up to grab your gashed head. Not only was it gashed and gushing blood, the way you were hanging upside down was making you woozy. The blood was rushing to your head and you felt yourself growing faint.

“Okay hey, I need you to keep talking to us okay kid?” You felt your world slowly fading out. “Hey, can you do that for me?” Dean asked again when he didn’t hear you respond.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Atta girl, keep talking alright? Don’t you dare stop.” Dean said. He could tell you weren’t going to be able to hang onto consciousness for much longer.

“Remember when we pranked Sammy that one time with that toy clown?” Dean asked.

“How could I forget?” You chuckled weakly.

“Yeah that was pretty funny huh? What colors were on that clown? Do you remember?” He asked, not giving a crap at all about the colors of the clown, but just trying to keep you responsive and forcing your brain to think incase you had a nasty concussion they were already expecting.

“Uhhh blue, green, red, y-yellow.” You answered.

“Yeah, yeah it was those colors, you’re right kid.”Dean responded already knowing the answer though. Shivers wracked your body and you realized how cold you were.

“De, ‘m so c- cold,” you whispered into the phone.

“Shit!” You heard Dean say before you heard the car they were in accelerate. The phone rustled and you heard Sam’s voice.

“Hey bug, you’re going to be alright okay? We’re almost there, I need you to stay with me for another minute. You’re doing so well bug, we’re almost there.” Sam said.

“Mhm.” You whimpered before hearing rustling in the woods.

“You’re here,” you sighed in relief.

“Almost bug, almost!” Sam ensured.

You sucked in a breath. Someone was out here with you and if it wasn’t your brothers then it was something.

“What! Somethings out here with me Sammy!” You cried panicking. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was now surging through your body or that you subconsciously knew that this could be your last fight for your life, but you somehow gained the energy to pick your head up and look around the woods. Your arms flailed as you tried to rip yourself from the seatbelt. You let out a strangled cry when you couldn’t get loose, yet again. You could feel your heart pounding through your body as you tried everything to see yourself free. You weren’t going to die without going down without a fight first. In your final attempt to free yourself, the driver side door was ripped open. You let out a strangled scream and frantically searched for something to defend yourself with.

“Hey! It’s Sam, it’s Sam! You’re alright, you’re safe!” You heard Sam say as he grabbed ahold of your shaky hands that were looking for a weapon.

“Sammy!” You cried, looking around for Dean.

“Hey, you’re okay! I’m going to get you down okay?“ He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” You whimpered, needing to know where he was.

“You were right, there was a werewolf. He’s taking care of it.” Sam answered.

You sucked in a breath terrified to be trapped in the car defenseless while there was a werewolf out there with your brothers. Sam noticed your panic.

“Hey, it’s okay! He already took care of it.” He corrected himself, reassuring you and just then Dean came into your view.

“Hey kid, everything’s okay. I need you to put your hands on the roof of the car so I can cut you down.” Dean said as he brought his knife to your seatbelt.

You nodded and put your hands up. You were weak though and your arms felt like jello. There was no way you’d be able to hold yourself up as you fell. As soon as Dean cut through the seatbelt, he noticed you weren’t able to hold yourself up so he quickly grabbed you to to lessen the impact.

“Alright that’s okay, I got you, I got you.” Dean whispered as he pulled you out of the car.

“Mm so tired De.” You weakly mumbled into your brothers chest.

“I need you to stay awake for me.” Dean said as he rushed you to the car. When he didn’t get a response, he gave you a little shake.

“Okay, okay.” You whimpered.

“I’m sorry kid, you can’t go to sleep.” Dean said softly as he placed you into the car. You groaned in pain at your body hitting the seat.

“I know kid, I know, I’m sorry.” Dean whispered before Sam slid in next to you and Dean hopped in the driver seat.

You felt weak so you gently slumped over and leaned against Sam.

“Hey bug, we’re going to get you cleaned up and you’ll be as good as new. Everything’s going to be alright, I just need you to keep your eyes open for me yeah?” He asked gently, seeing you struggle to stay awake.

“Mhm.” You mumbled, before everything went dark.

——

You jumped awake and panicked. Dean immediately grabbed your hand and you realized you were in the bunker.

“Hey you’re alright.” Dean reassured you and you instinctively brought your other hand up to touch the gash on your head. Before you could though, Dean grabbed it and held it down.

“You have a few stitches,” Dean sighed, “in a few different places.” He finished. You looked down and noticed two huge bandages. One was on your thigh and one was on your forearm. Just as you were about to say something, Sam walked into your room.

“Hey bug, you’re awake! How do you feel?” He asked, coming over to you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay.” You said as you winced in pain. Both of your brothers could see right through you.

“I’ll go grab the pain meds.” Sam said before turning and walking back out.

“How long was I out for?” You asked

“A couple days,” Dean trailed off. “You scared the hell out of me kid.” He said, rubbing his hand over his face.

“I’m sorry Dean and I’m so sorry about the car.” You said feeling terrible.

“Hey, hey, hey, you have nothing to be sorry for and as for the car? I don’t care, I’ll fix it. The most important thing is that you’re okay and that you’re safe kiddo.” He said softly.

You nodded and sent him a sad smile before realization hit.

“I never got our ice cream!” You said, disappointed. You looked back up at Dean and he smirked.

“I went out and got it for you because I knew that when you woke up you’d want it.” Dean said chuckling. You sent him a big smile just as Sam walked through the door with some pills and water.

“You guys are the best, thank you.” You beamed.

[spearsillustration]

🐝 RID Stressed Bumblebee X Cybertronian Reader

Notes: I've been currently rewatching RID, when I was younger I didn't finish it. It's not as bad as I remember it being. I usually have it playing in the background when I'm working on something but I kind of love it. And I just love this version of Bumblebee. He's just a silly little guy doing his best. I think the only reason I didn't like this version is because I watched TFP first and that gives a person high expectations. 

Word count -  4,083

Page Number - 10.7 (How? This was meant to be short and sweet.)

 I've noticed Bumblebee's been far more quiet lately. I didn't think too much of it until Bumblebee snapped at Strongarm and Sideswipe for never listening to him. Yes, he yells at them for bickering from time to time, but this time was different. His voice was louder, scarier even. As he left the scene I could see his hands trembling, smoke practically coming out of his receptors. I followed him to try and talk about what was bothering him. 

        Before leaving I reassured the others that Bee was probably just having an off day and to forgive his actions. I slowly followed after to see what was wrong but I knew I had to be patient since he was obviously going through something.

        "Wanna talk about it?"

        The yellow autobot stopped in his tracks when he heard my voice, letting out a frustrated sigh before looking back at me He was clearly pissed off, but he was able to calm down once he saw it was me.

        "I'm fine," he said, voice harsh and stern but his eyes said otherwise, they were filled with stress and worry.

        "How about we leave base for a bit and go for a little drive? I know a place that'll help clear your mind a bit. You'll love it." I smiled warmly hoping he'd come around. 

        Bumblebee looked down at me, his optics slowly softening as he let out a small sigh and nodded. He still looked as stressed as ever, but at the promise of some time away from everyone, he'd feel much better.

        "Yeah, sure...I could use a drive right now," he said in a low tone.

        "Alright let's go then. I told the others we'd be gone for a while." Me and Bee transformed and I started leading us to our destination.

        Bumblebee followed driving in silence beside me, not saying a word. It had been a while since the two of us were able to be alone like this, so it seemed he slowly became more relaxed. I would usually try playing around or racing with him, but I knew he wasn't in the mood so we kept driving silently. He was in a bad mood so of course I wouldn't play around. I just understood his need to get away for a bit. After another 20 minutes of driving, he spoke up, "...Where exactly are we going?"

        "You'll see soon. It's a surprise, but you'll love it. It's just what you need."

        Bumblebee let out a small sigh but didn't object. He trusted me enough and if I said he would love this place, he would. He continued to follow me, now curious about where I was taking him.

        I turned onto an old backroad that led into the forest. The road was hardly visible so it was easy to pass up if you weren't looking for it. It led to a beautiful pond that was fed by a creek. The water was beautiful and clear completely untouched by humans. It was surrounded by trees and the waterfall on the far side across from us made the sight even more unworldly.

        "How do you like it? I found it about a month ago when patrolling."

        Bumblebee stared in awe the moment we both made it to the pond. He seemed speechless as he slowly transformed back and walked over to the edge of the pond, eyes wide as they gazed upon the water.

        "....I-Its..I..."

        He couldn't find the words for it, he just kept staring at the water, a small smile appearing on his face as all the stress seemed to slowly melt away.

        "I figured you needed to relax and this is the best place I could think of." I looked away from the water and back at him.

        Bumblebee finally managed to look away from the pond to look back at me. His optics held a gleam to them as the smile stayed on his face, he seemed thankful. 

        "I..Yeah.This is exactly what I needed...I can't believe a place like this even exists here..." He spoke, finally finding his voice. He walked closer and pulled me into a tight hug taking me by surprise. 

      He held me close wrapping his arms around my body almost holding too tightly. He let out a small sigh as he closed his eyes. I could feel how tense and wound up his body was, holding himself together at the base in front of the others had left him exhausted. 

        "Let's sit down and relax here for a while." I offered.

        Bumblebee silently nodded in response. Then laid down on his back, letting out a relieved sigh as he stretched out a bit in the grass. He patted the spot beside him, gesturing for me to come lay with him.

        I smiled and quickly joined him. "So do you wanna talk about it? If you don't I understand."

        He looked at me as I lay beside him, he reached out an arm and pulled me closer to him so I was pressed up against his side. He stayed quiet for a while, just staring up at the sky above.

        Finally, he let out a sigh "I have a lot on my mind, I don't think you even want to hear it." He mumbled, his eyes still looking up at the sky

        I looked up at him with a worried expression. "You know you can tell me anything. And I'll just keep it between you and me."

        Bumblebee hesitantly looked away from the sky and back down at me. His eyes slowly became softer as he saw the worry in my expression. He carefully rolled onto his side, facing me instead of the sky. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, "...Sometimes it just gets too much, you know? Trying to keep everyone in line, keeping everyone from getting into trouble, keeping everyone safe... It's tiring, I feel like I'm failing.."

        "Oh Bee." I sigh. "You do so much for us and overwork yourself. You're not failing. You're new to this and you're still learning. Being a leader is hard, I could only imagine how hard it can be."

                Bumblebee slowly nodded as he tried to look anywhere other than my eyes, feeling a sense of shame and disappointment in himself for not doing better.

"Sometimes it doesn't feel that way, especially when it seems like everyone just keeps ignoring me. They don't take anything I say or do seriously.." His voice became bitter as memories of the others came to the forefront of his mind.

        "They're young, foolish, and a bit annoying at times. But, over time the team will get better I know it. And you always have me around to help."

        Bumblebee's optics slightly widened at my words, and a feeling of warmth spread through his chest as he looked down at you again. He reached out and placed a hand on my cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

        "I don't know what I would do without you...You're the only one who listens and I wish the others understood. How did I get so lucky to have someone so caring and understanding like you?"

        I blushed and looked away. "I-it's nothing, I just care about you is all," I said super awkwardly.

        Bumblebee chuckled when he noticed my obvious blushing, finding it cute how awkward I was in this situation. He moved his hand up to my chin and gently tilted my head to make me look him in the eyes, a small smirk on his face.

        "It's definitely not nothing. You're everything. But you're adorable when you're nervous, you know that?"

        "Stop, this isn't about me. We're here for you." I said changing the subject, but I was right.

        He smirked as he saw how flustered I got due to his words, he decided to drop the subject but he loved getting me flustered like that. He rolled back onto his back and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

        "Alright, alright. We don't have to talk about that...but there is another thing I wanna talk about if you're up for it.. " he said in a serious tone.

        "What is it?"

        Bumblebee's optics shifted away from me as his arm tightened around me, he was clearly nervous about what he was about to say. "It's about...how I feel about you, I guess. But I don't know if it's a good time to bring it up, I don't want to ruin anything, I just-"

        "...Just what?"

        Bumblebee's cheeks had a slight blue tint to them seeing my flushed expression unable to look me in the eyes.

        "I just... I have feelings for you- I have for a while now, but I felt unsure about whether it would actually be a good idea to say anything or not. I-I don't wanna ruin what we have-" He said in a low tone, his voice becoming more nervous the more he spoke.

        "I'm glad. I was worried mine were one-sided. I like you too Bee." I was barely able to get out.

        For a moment, Bumblebee's optics widened as he heard those words, a look of surprise on his face. "Wait...Really? You like me too? I didn't think this would happen, I thought it was one-sided-"

        "Y-yeah, I love ya Bee. I covered my mouth. "It's scary to actually say that out loud."

        A large smile appeared on Bumblebee's face and his optics shone brightly with happiness as he heard those 3 words. 

        "I love you too," He said, his voice softer and full of love as he spoke.

        My spark could just explode from joy. "You look better now that you're smiling. I missed it."

                Bumblebee chuckled as he heard me say that, he was still smiling, it was a smile that refused to go away anytime soon. He suddenly let out an amused hum, his smile turned into a smirk.

        "Oh, so you like my smile, do you?" He teased, his grip on me becoming a tad bit tighter.

        "Of course, I do Sweetspark."

        Bumblebee's smirk turned into a soft smile again at that cute nickname, he let out a small sigh of contentment. 

        "I like it when you call me that," He mumbled, "Sweetspark...Has a nice sound to it"

        "You'll definitely have to get used to it then."

        "Oh, I'll get used to it just fine, as long as you're the one saying it." He said, optics gently looking down at my lips.

        I leaned over and gently gave him what I knew he wanted. I gave him a gentle loving kiss.

        Bumblebee's hand slowly slid down to my waist to pull me closer. When I suddenly leaned forward and kissed him, his optics widened briefly before they slowly drifted shut. He let out a small sigh against my lips and slowly deepened the kiss.

        Once we pulled apart I prepped his neck and face with kisses. "I've wanted to do that for the longest time."

        Bumblebee chuckled at my cute gesture, letting out a hum of contentment as I peppered his face with kisses. His optics slowly fluttered closed once again as he tilted his head to the side to give me more access to his neck. He let out another soft sigh as my lips left a trail of gentle kisses on his neck.

        "Careful-" he mumbled, a hint of a teasing tone in his voice "-I might get addicted to this, you know."

        "I wouldn't mind that."

        "As much as I want this to continue, I think we should probably head back to base before the others get worried. As much as I want to keep you all to myself."

        "Fine. Since you can't stand being around me." I said sarcastically.

        "Don't make it sound like that, you know I enjoy being with you." He smirked as he gently tapped my nose with his finger as if he was trying to get a rise out of me.

        "I just like to play with you sometimes." I quickly gave him another kiss before standing up.

        Bumblebee rolled his optics but he didn’t mind this little back and forth between the two of you. He let out a sigh as I stood up and slowly sat up from the ground. A small smirk appeared on his face as he held a hand up to me.

        "Help me up will ya?"

        I squinted my eyes at him feeling he had something planned but I decided against it and gave him a hand.

        Bumblebee chuckled at the look I gave him, he could tell I knew something was up but decided not to question it and just helped him up. When I grabbed his hand, he quickly used the opportunity to pull me down onto his lap.

        "I figured you would do that."

        Bumblebee chuckled and wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me sitting in his lap, he looked at me with a teasing smile on his face. "And yet you still fell for it"

        "Because maybe I didn't mind it."

       "Mhm? You didn't mind, eh? So if I did this, you wouldn't mind that either right?" He teased, as he reached a hand up to my chin to tilt my head down closer to his face.

        "Aww, did you want another kiss before we left?"

        Your faces were so close, that the tips of your noses were almost touching. He chuckled, his optics looking down at my lips again before looking back into my eyes again

        "Yes, very much so. If you would give me another one."

        I quickly gave him a light almost fleeting kiss. "Now as much as I'd love to make out here in the woods by this beautiful pond, like you said we should probably head back."

        "Mhm, you’re right. We can continue this later back at base...if you want to, of course" He said with a playful wink. 

        "Alright, then let’s get going then. The longer we sit here, the longer we have to wait to continue this later" I said before I lightly punched his shoulder before standing up.

        I transforming transformed and revved my engine.

        "Wanna race back?" I asked playfully.

        "A race? Hm.. let's see if you can actually keep up with me"

        I quickly drove off leaving him in my smoke. "Let's see if you're right."

        Bumblebee let out an amused gasp as I suddenly took off, the smirk on his face widened into a cheeky grin. "Cheater!-" he yelled out, revving his engine again to speed up. He quickly gained speed and raced after me.

        I didn't let up and raced back to base. "You're gonna have to do better than that Sweetspark."

        Bumblebee huffed in annoyance at my words. He revved his engine once more and suddenly sped up, pulling up right beside me. 

        "Oh, you're going to get it when we get back to base, you know-"

        I'm glad he couldn't see my blush. "Uh-huh. We'll have to see."

        He was enjoying the banter as he kept up the speed to stay right beside me. "You're not gonna be saying that when I have you all to myself later," he teased, increasing speed easily pulling ahead of me.

        "B-bee." I wined in embarrassment and accidentally slowed down enough for him to pass me.

        Bumblebee noticed my small stutter and the fact that I had suddenly slowed down enough to let him pull ahead. "Oh? What’s the matter? Did that comment get you all embarrassed? Hm-"

        "Shut up." I stuttered out only adding to my embarrassment. I was happy we were close to base. But I tried to speed up and beat him to save myself some face.

        He noticed me trying to speed up and beat him to base, so he suddenly sped up as well to keep himself in front of me.

        "Ah ah! No chance!" He shouted back. He was enjoying every second of this, especially making me stutter from embarrassment.

        We reached base with Bee ahead of me at least a full car length. I drifted into base and transformed back gracefully but still blushing from him comments. Once he transformed back to bot mode, he leaned against the wall and looked at me. 

        "And you said you could keep up with me"

        "Well, better the most can." I shrugged.

        "Mhm, doesn't matter though. You still lost" He teased, a smirk still on his face as he gently grabbed my waist to pull me closer to him.

        "Guess we'll have to do it again another time and get a rematch." I leaned up and kissed his cheek since he was already so close.

        "A rematch sounds nice, I'm up for it whenever you are"

        I noticed the two younger bots and jumped a bit in embarrassment. Bumblebee was about to say something when he saw my sudden reaction and followed my gaze, he looked over to the side and saw both Strongarm and Sideswipe not too far from where we were. His optics widened for a moment and he realized they saw everything.

        I pulled away and cleaned myself off awkwardly. "H-hay guys."

        Sideswipe chuckled and crossed his arms "Well, what do we have here?-"

        He started but was quickly cut off by a smack to the back of his head by Strongarm "Sideswipe shut up" She said in a stern tone, before looking over to me and Bee.

        It was so awkward because the reason we left was because Bee was pissed off and now we're back all lovey-dovey out of nowhere.

        Sideswipe was still rubbing the back of his head to soothe the pain from the smack but still had a smirk on his face as he looked at us. "So, care to explain this?" He asked.

        "Um w-well me and Bee are kind of a thing now," I answered awkwardly hoping Bee could say it better. He was the leader after all.

        Sideswipe looked dumbfounded for a moment but that quickly turned into a teasing smile "A thing, huh?" he said in a slightly sarcastic tone

        Before Sideswipe could say anything else, Bumblebee spoke up. His face didn’t look pleased or amused but just blank, his expression showing annoyance. "Yes, we are a thing," he said bluntly, as he gave Sideswipe and Strongarm a small glare.

        It was clear that Bee was still upset with their earlier behavior.

        Sideswipe held his hands up in mock surrender but still had a smirk on his face. "Hey, no need to get all pissy, I was just curious," he said casually.

        Strongarm gave Sideswipe another glare and smacked the back of his head again, causing him to let out a small "Ow-" in response

        "You should learn to show some more respect Sideswipe. Bee works hard as our leader, more than you could understand." I said also annoyed with his attitude lately.

        Sideswipe rubbed the back of his head again he heard your words, and The smirk on his face slowly fell. Strongarm nodded in agreement with my words and turned to Sideswipe with a scolding look on her face. "Riley's right, Sideswipe. Bumblebee is still our leader, and you ought to start respecting him like one"

        "Both and Sideswipe get into annoying arguments all the time. You two need to find a way to work better today. Since we're a team we have to work together or it will never work." I didn't realize I was about to give out orders like this. I guess seeing Bee so upset got me riled up a bit.

        Both Sideswipe and Strongarm looked like they were in shock from my words. Sideswipe still had his hands up and a dumbfounded look on his face from scolded, while Strongarm stood stunned for a moment before her face shifted back to a more serious one and a small nod came from her.

        "You're right, I apologize. I'll try to do better" She said apologetically.

        "I know you two can do amazing things but you need to work on some things we all need to work on things," I said trying to make the atmosphere a little less tense. 

        Sideswipe's hands slowly lowered and he let out a small sigh as he regained his composure once more. He put his hands on his hips and looked at me with a slightly sheepish expression on his face.

        "Yeh.. I guess we both do have some things to work on" he said quietly.

        Strongarm nodded in agreement and looked down at her feet in shame. 

        "Thank you guys. That's all we can ask for." I smiled warmly.

         I looked back at Bee hoping I didn't make things worse or anything. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of line or anything. I know you're the leader and it's your job to talk to them but I just hoped I could help."

        Bumblebee looked at me with a softened expression when I turned back to him. He gave me a small smile before shaking his head "No no, it's alright. You didn't do anything wrong. You helped a lot more than you think. Thank you for doing that"

        I stepped closer. "Anything to help you out."

        "Thank you, I really appreciate it. You helped a lot more than I thought you could"He said with a small smile on his face. The smile soon turned into a hint of a smirk. "And it was pretty attractive seeing you tell off Sideswipe and Strongarm"

        "Oh those two, it's like dealing with sparklings."

        Bumblebee chuckled at my comment and nodded in agreement "Yeah, but they're a bit more difficult to deal with than actual sparklings"

        "Oh really, how's that?"

        "Well the usual, them arguing with each other all the time like they're trying to rile each other up, getting into trouble, causing unnecessary problems- the list goes on. It's a pain to deal with in the long run"

he explained.

        "I suppose you're right. But they're still learning. Once they mature a bit they'll be amazing teammates to work with. I can just see it now. And I have a feeling their bickering will turn into something else in the future."

        Bumblebee nodded in agreement once again and chuckled softly. He was enjoying this little moment as we talked about the other bots.

        "Yeah, it's just a matter of time. If their endless arguments and bickering don’t end up killing me first" He joked, referring to the endless arguments Sideswipe and Strongarm had.

        "Well, that won't happen with me around. Don't need you dying on me yet. I don't think I could work with those two alone, so you can't leave me yet."

       "Trust me, I have no plans to leave you alone. Besides, you're one of the main reasons I'm still sane around here" He said jokingly but with a genuine hint in his tone.

        "Well, you had to have at least one other adult on the team."

        "Yes, exactly. You’re like a breath of fresh air whenever everything becomes chaotic and annoying”

        I was glad to see him in a better mood than earlier this morning. "I do my best.

[kiwi-on-ice]

Sugar daddy headcannons with Ashe, Hanzo, Sombra and Lifeweaver with fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics present in some, sex toys, just general filth

Notes: Listen, sometimes a girl just needs someone to pay them to be pretty, okay? Just some silly headcannons of the characters I think would spend the most money on their partners.

Ashe:

Oh baby, she’s the DEFINITION of a sugar daddy. Nothing on earth can stop her from spoiling you.

New clothes, new nails, new accessories, new car, new hairstyle…all bought without a second thought and a slap on your ass. I mean if you’re gonna be the special doll of the leader of the deadlock gang, you’re gonna have to look the part.

Especially if she’s planning on having you sit on her lap during a meeting. Wants your nails done and a new dress on you so everyone can look on in jealousy that you’re hers.

Yes that also extends to lingerie. She’s gonna buy you the most expensive types, with different colours, textures, everything. Typically as a present, an apology for when she goes away for one of her heists or a business meeting.

But it doesn’t stop there, she’ll get you anything just to keep you happy. Any nerdy interest you have, or food you’ve always wanted to try. She’s a generous woman with her money, but only for you.

And hey…maybe she does expect a little sugar in return, but it’s not like you’re complaining. When she’s deep in your cunt, strap pounding away as she groans, buying one that stimulates her clit the more she thrusts into you.

Definitely the type to coo at you “awe baby, you bein’ good for me? For your sugar daddy? Gonna give me some sugar so I keep spoilin’ your fine ass?” while you’re gasping for air at how good she’s railing you.

Yeah she ain’t calling herself a sugar mommy, no no she’s your sugar daddy, and you know your place.

Hanzo:

Yeah he’s definitely into being a sugar daddy for you, especially while he was still part of the shimada clan.

He’s a busy man, and a busy man needs some stress relief. So having a pretty thing like you certainly helps those urges after a shitty day.

Kinda nonchalant about spoiling you, tossing you a wad of cash and demanding you to get something pretty to wear tonight, or to get your nails redone after one chipped off.

He doesn’t spend a lot of money, so he might as well spend it on you, if you’re good that is. Stay well behaved and don’t mouth off and you’ll get rewarded.

Always has a catch though. If he pays to get your nails done, he always wants a demonstration that night of how they look. Which almost always involves your pretty fingers wrapped around his dick, while he gets out a gruff “they look nice angel” as you pump him.

Or if he buys you a new car, so he tests how good you can drive it by fingering you while you drive around some backroads. After all, if he’s gonna buy you a pretty car, gotta make sure you won’t crash it and wreck it, right?

But hey if your pussy gushing around his skilled fingers means you have to stop the car, he can think of another way of proving you deserve the vehicle, which is how you’ll find yourself bent over the seats with his cock in your mouth.

The man is always buying you lingerie, because those are gonna be your permanent underwear now. Every time you undress, he expects to see one of the pretty sets he got you, so he can peel them off himself. Sometimes if you go to a formal event, his hand may go wandering up your dress to feel the material of your panties to make sure.

Definitely isn’t into being called a sugar daddy though (father issues and all that), so best stick to sir.

Sombra:

Another serial lingerie buyer. Loves hacking into your online wish lists to get you things, but lingerie is her fav. Yes she will be buying purple sets the same colour as her hair.

Also gonna buy you bodysuits too, lace ones with matching stockings and garters; all of it. She’ll leave it in a nicely packaged box on your bed (and mostly likely watch your reaction through the cameras she had you install in your house)

She’ll make you send her pictures and videos of you in the clothes she buys, will save it to her phone’s folder titled ‘my investment💜’. If she’s feeling in a particular mood, she’ll text you instructions on what she wants you do to in the videos, like how to touch yourself or what to say.

But she’s not shy about buying you anything that you want, or more importantly anything she thinks you need. This includes the best electronics on the market, phones, laptops, headphones, tablets, anything. All encrypted of course, the only person who should be able to hack into your stuff is her.

She might tease you by calling herself your sugar mommy, but not with a serious tone. She knows that you’re more to her than just a sugar baby. And she knows that it’s not just her money that keeps you around, you’re addicted to her.

And she proves it, by having you sit in the apartment she pays for, in your pretty purple lingerie she got you, bouncing up and down on a dildo she sent you, in front of your new phone as she watches from her computer set-up, a smirk on her face at how obedient you are. And hey, if her fingers find themselves on her aching clit, who’s gonna stop her?

Lifeweaver:

Nghhhhhh I’m going feral. You know this man has money, if his family's wealth is anything to go by. And he’s gonna be spoiling you to death.

Honestly it turns him on to buy you the finest things in life, especially if you aren’t used to such luxuries. Just watching your eyes light up at what he’s bought you, at what he knows you deserve, has his dick rock hard.

He’ll most likely get you jewellery the most, the finest he can of course. And he obviously takes note of your preferences; if you only wear silver, the silver it shall be, or if you only wear gold, that’s what you’ll have on your neck and fingers and ears.

If it’s a necklace he’s bought you, he’ll insist on putting it on for you. Securing it around your neck, he’ll lean in to press kisses along the back of you neck and shoulder, worshiping you. If he’s bought you a ring, he’ll kiss from your knuckle up your arm, spurred on by your giggles.

Nothing is too much for you, even if you’re too shy to ask for what you want. If he sees your eyes lingering on a particular bag or necklace or outfit, he’ll make a note to get it for you later.

Will insist you try everything on for him that night too, your pretty dresses and tops and skirts and leggings. Will have you do a twirl so his eyes can roam your entire form, before giving you the sweetest, most indulgent compliments.

And then you’ll probably find yourself sat on his plush bed in front of the mirror, as he’s on his knees eating you out like a man starved. Murmuring against mouthfuls of your cunt to look at how pretty you are in the mirror. Instructing you to repeat it, to tell him that you deserve the best things and that you’re the prettiest girl in the world as you gush on his tongue.

Definitely does not like the term sugar daddy, as it implies he’s only buying you things with the expectation of sex. But I mean, if you really want to call him daddy, he’d do anything to make you feel good.

[oneforthemunny]

certified lover boy |modern!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: max tells eddie he's a simp for you, and maybe he is. no, he most definitely is.

contains: language, mentions of drugs, modern!eddie and reader, mentions to mature themes 18+

"Baby, you just tell me what you want, and I'll pick it up, alright?" Eddie cooed into the screen of his phone, eyes flicking from you back to the road. One hand gripped the iPhone, the other held the wheel of the mustang, cruising down the backroads of Hawkins.

Max snarled her nose in disgust, eyes cutting over to Eddie. "Ok. I think I want pizza. Do you want me to order it and get it delivered?" Your voice carried through the car's speakers, the shuffling of whatever task you were doing in the background.

"If that's what you want to do." Eddie replied sweetly. "Or we can go out."

"I don't think I want to go out." You sighed. "I'll order it. I think I just want pizza and maybe to smoke a teeny tiny blunt. Is that ok?"

Eddie snorted. "That's fine with me. I have some papers with me."

"Will you roll it for me?" You asked sweetly. The sweetest Max had ever heard you speak. She wondered if you knew she was in the car.

"I always do, baby." Eddie purred lowly back at you, giving you a dazzling, dimpled smile. Max gagged silently, dramatically over Eddie's shoulder but he ignored her. "I gotta drop Red off, and then I'll be over."

"Ok," You hummed. "You want your usual?"

"Please?" Eddie grinned. "I'll Venmo you for it."

"I got it, Ed." You snorted lightly. "My treat. You just bring the weed."

Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. "Ok, I'll see you soon. Bye, baby."

"Bye." You chirped.

Eddie's eyes flicked towards the screen. "Love you." He added.

You smiled through the screen. "Love you." You replied before the call ended.

Eddie pocketed his phone, Max's face disgusted, nose twisted up in repulsion. "You're down bad, Munson." She scoffed, shaking her head.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "What?" He shrugged, she gave him a pointed look. "Oh, I'm down bad because I'm in love?"

"Ew!"

"What?" Eddie threw his hand out.

Max shook her head. "You're just... I don't know, it's gross." She shuddered. "You're all simpy for her."

"Simpy?" Eddie gawked.

"Yeah, you're a total fucking simp. It's gross." Max laughed.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I am not a simp." He grumbled, defensive and a little huffy. He felt his phone ding in the center console, your name popping up followed by a string of emojis.

Max gave him a pointed look. "Really?" She asked sarcastically. "Really you're not?"

"Shut up." Eddie huffed, turning his phone over so she couldn't see the screen anymore. "Y'know, make fun of me all you want, but one day you're gonna be in love too-"

"-Oh, God, Eddie, please stop. 'M gonna be sick-"

"-I see the way you look at Sinclair. You think he won't make a move on you one day and you won't be the same way?" Eddie challenged.

Max blushed deep, the red on her cheeks nearly matching her hair. "Shut up. Me and Lucas are just friends you freak." She huffed.

Eddie snorted. "Right." He looked over at her playfully.

Max's eyes narrowed at him, blistering glare that Eddie just rolled his eyes at, he was used to it. "Whatever," She huffed, when Eddie pulled into the gravel drive of her trailer. "I'll never be a simp like you Munson." She declared smugly, reaching for the door handle.

"Right, you keep telling yourself that." Eddie snorted. "You just worry about selling that shit, you got me? We gotta settle up with Rick this Saturday."

"I got it." Max rolled her eyes, patting her backpack full of weed. "I'll have it sold by tomorrow. Going to a party tomorrow."

Eddie nodded. "You need a ride?"

"No," Max blushed, pausing for a moment. "Lucas is taking me."

Eddie barked out a laugh, clapping his hands together. "Oh really? Lover boy's gonna take you?"

Max huffed. "Shut up. We're just friends." She slammed the door to his Mustang. Eddie rolled down the window. "You go enjoy your pizza."

"Oh, I will." Eddie grinned, pushing the gear stick back.

"You're getting weak in the knees, Munson!" Max called from the steps. "Stand up, you fuckin' simp!"

Eddie laughed, shaking his head before pulling out of the driveway. If only she knew, Eddie grinned to himself, looking down at his phone. His heart rate picked up at your little message, 'on it's way. see you soon drive safe :)' so minimal- it had no business making his head spin the way it did, foot pressing further on the gas.

Probably for the best Max didn't know how in deep he was with you, she'd tease him relentlessly if she did. But how could he not be? You were perfect, Eddie was sure of it.

The way you always smiled so wide when you saw him, even when you had a bad day, your eyes lit up, grin crinkling up to your eyes. You’d hug him tight, muttering a quiet, “Hi, baby,” that always left him floating.

He’d bury his face in your neck, inhaling your scent deep. Your skin, your perfume- fuck, you smelled so good, intoxicating to him. He’d secretly spray your perfume, the pink, slender bottle on your nightstand, all over his clothes before he’d leave, pressing his nose to his collar when he wanted a whiff of you. Carrying you with him through the sweet scent of your perfume.

Or the way you’d hold his hand when you two would walk through the mall, lazily bumping hips while he carried the bags- he always insisted on carrying the bags. You’d drag him into Sephora or Aerie, and he’d just stand there with the basket, letting you pile it up and not complaining once.

He loved it the most when you’d go try things on. When he got to see you come out, spinning around and examining your body in the clothes. He had an excuse to gawk at you openly. You’d get frustrated when he’d tell you that you should get everything you tried on, that you looked good in anything you tried on.

He like it when you’d stop and smell candles, holding the open jar out towards him, giggling when he’d wrinkle his nose in displeasure at the scent. “No?” You’d raise your brows playfully, he’d shake his head.

He‘d get positively smitten when you’d sit at the Hideout with him, recording and snapping pictures on your phone of him and the boys to post later. Filming TikToks and hoping they’d go viral. One did, once, they’d gained some traction off of it and he was so thankful for you. Smiling proudly when you reported the video’s growth, and it spreading even wider across your face when the boys cheered you on for it.

He loved how funny you were, even when you didn’t mean to be. Pulling faces that left him shaking with laughter, or snarky comments that he couldn’t help but grin at. You were mean when you wanted to be, a little hedgehog with a prickly exterior and a soft underbelly. You were protective of him, he knew that. Saw it when you’d snap and sneer at the waitress who got too flirty, eyes daggers that scared her off. Just as venomous, if not worse, when some guy flirted with you at a party. Sending him retreating with his tail tucked between his legs, your hand on Eddie’s leg or wrapped around him, touching him somehow to show your claim. You usually would kiss him deep, trailing down his neck and sucking a deep bruise into the porcelain skin of his neck. It was more PDA than you usually would give, but with him, you didn’t care- it drove him wild in the best way.

He was glad Max or anyone else wasn’t around to see how soft he got around you. Especially in the intimacy of your relationship, when the two of you were alone. He’d lay on top of you, head in your chest, smothering himself into your breasts while you played with his hair. Twisting and twirling the ringlets around your finger, pressing kisses to his head while he laid there, letting himself be babied by you. He never expected you to be so caring and sweet like that, it had taken a while for that side to come through, but once you showed him a tiny shred of it, he was hooked for life.

Eddie liked how sweet you were then, but nothing compared to how sweet you were to him when he was between your legs, lapping at your cunt like it was his lifeline. Like his only purpose in life was to please you, and he was convinced it was. Your voice would lilt, nasally and high- nearing a whine. You’d sing his praises, back arched and writing while he devoured you. You were so sweet, tasted so sweet, sounded so sweet. To hell with what anyone else thought about you, Eddie knew you were sweet, his sweet girl.

And you knew him too, the Eddie that the world didn’t see- or he tried not to let see. The sweet, dedicated, lovestruck boy who bended to your whim. Who would do anything and everything for you, did everything for you. Eddie Munson, the simp- no, the certified lover boy. Your certified sweet lover boy.

[allbark-no-bite]

the night shift.

jake seresin x bradley bradshaw (wc: 3k)

summary: jake’s a cop working the night shift and pulls over a mildly drunk (and very interested) firefighter. chaos ensues.

warnings: mature, *driving while under the influence of alcohol, some sexual references

*if this bothers you, just don’t read, simple as that. you don’t have to come into my inbox to tell me that it bothers you <3

author’s note: i’ve never written anything faster in my entire like. this was so much fun! i came across this post again and couldn’t let it go. all credit to @squiddosss for their amazing artwork

————————————————————————

It's slow nights like these that make Jake question why he prefers the night shift.

The gravel of the lonely backroad crunches beneath the tires of his cruiser as he makes the curve and slowly pulls to a stop. The sirens on his cruiser give one last whoop before he shuts them off. The back of the beat up vintage blue Bronco gleams in the shine of his headlights. He sighs and shifts the car into park before he tips his radio towards his mouth and mumbles his whereabouts, informing Javy that he's making a traffic stop.

"10-4. Keep me updated."

He climbs out of the cruiser and makes his way towards the vehicle, keeping one thumb tucked into the front of his belt, fingers ready to reach for his gun in an instant. The diver hadn't given him any trouble thus far other than what he had pulled him over for— swerving all over the road, but Jake had been trained to err on the side of caution. He runs his finger tips over the tail light as he passes it by, a habit he had picked up from working alone.

For being such an old model, the car is in pretty decent shape. It has what appears to be brand new tires and the powder blue paint job has been restored to perfection. It was obviously well cared for. He wonders briefly the story behind it being as he doubts you could buy such a car these days. This was the kind of car that you handed down.

The window rolls down just as Jake approaches it.

"How's it goin' Officer?"

Jake blinks.

The driver is a younger guy, probably close to his own age— Jake likes to think that thirty-one is still plenty young— with shoulders so broad that it's a wonder he even fits in the front seat. His skin is a dark olive, which is pretty typical for someone who lives around here, but what catches Jake's attention the most is the perfectly groomed mustache the guy is sporting on his upper lip. It's thick and matches the caramel color of his otherwise brunette head of hair.

"Is there something wrong?"

The guy smiles and his dusty rose lips frame his perfectly aligned white teeth.

Jake tells himself it's his job to notice these kinds of things.

Jake clears his throat and leans in to peer into the cab of the truck, doing his best to avoid the lingering stare of the guy's warm hazel eyes. When he's satisfied that there's nothing worthy of his immediate attention in the car, Jake focuses back on him.

"Can I get your license and registration?"

It takes him a moment of fumbling around in his glove box and then his pocket, but he hands both documents over. The guy watches him so intently while Jake reads over them that it almost makes him uncomfortable, and he's glad for the excuse to look away.

"You had much to drink tonight, Bradley?" Jake asks as his eyes skim over the name. Bradley Peter Bradshaw. He almost laughs. If Jake didn't know better, he'd think it was a fake.

Jake knows the answer before he asks it but he figures he'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He doesn't necessarily reek of alcohol but Jake can defiantly pick up the fermented smell of yeast on his breath. If the guy hadn't been staring at him so intently and Jake could look at him for longer than two seconds, he's sure his pupils would be dilated as well.

"Just a little, Officer. I'm sobered up now."

Jake has to hold back his disbelieving snort. If he had a dime for every time he heard that, he'd be rich. "Well, Bradley. I find that a little hard to believe. You were all over this back road here. You know you're only supposed to drive on the right side, right?"

Bradley's mouth twitches, as if he found Jake's comment more amusing rather than condescending. "I didn't, but I'll sure take your word for it."

Jake, on the other hand, doesn't share his humor. "You seem like a funny guy, Bradley. But unfortunately, I don't find drunk driving to be very funny."

And then his eyes land on the emblem on Bradley's navy blue t-shirt—N.I.F.D. —the one his swollen biceps are nearly bursting out of.

"You work for North Island Fire Department?"

Jake watches as Bradley's slightly drunk grin widens. "I sure do."

Jake hands him back his license and the rest of his paperwork. "I've got a couple friends down at the station. You know Trace, Fitch?"

If his pupils weren't already blown wide, Jake would say they lit up in recognition. "Yeah, actually. Natasha is the one who got me the job there. I just finished a deployment out in the Pacific."

It's then that Jake notices the dog tags looped around his thick neck and hidden beneath his shirt. "You're enlisted," Jake says aloud, and then to conceal his surprise follows with, "I was too."

That's the kind of thing that you do when you're eighteen and more scared of not living than dying. If anything it was exciting. Anything that meant getting the hell out of Texas was exciting. He misses it now, but at the time when he was standing alone in that recruiters office, he didn't think for a moment that he would. He felt like a man.

The navy made him a man, is what his daddy said. It was probably one of the only times the old bastard ever told him he was proud of him, and the only time he didn't feel bad for making his mama cry.

The reason he got out was for the reason most do. You realize you don't stay twenty forever and life doesn't wait around until you figure that out. He didn't want to retire one day and have nothing to come home to but an empty apartment. San Diego seemed as good of a place to settle down as any.

Javy's voice crackles through on the radio strapped to his chest, breaking up their conversation.

"Unit-16. Checking in on your traffic stop. You need back-up?"

He hadn't realized they'd been talking so long. Jake mentally reprimands himself for getting distracted and picks up the radio while pressing it to his mouth. "This is Unit-16. No back-up necessary. Over."

"10-4. Over."

Jake releases the radio and looks back up to Bradley. Get back on task, Jake. Bradley smiles coyly at him. Jesus, focus, Jake.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step out the vehicle."

The hopeful look in Bradley's big hazel eyes falters.

"Look, Officer uh— " The Bradley leans towards his open window so that he can squint at the gold engraved name plate on Jake's uniform. "—Seresin." Jake watches as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he cocks his head a little to the side and smiles, looking up at Jake. "You look good."

Oh. Oh.

That's what this is all about.

It's then that Jake realizes that this guy has been flirting him the entire time. He'll admit it's not the first time someone's hit on him while on the clock. Jake is aware he's an attractive guy, it's just that this is the first time he's been tasked with turning down at very handsome, drunk stranger. But drunk or not, the compliment makes his cheeks burn. Jake prays that the red and blue lights of his cruiser are enough to conceal the way his face flushes.

Ignoring him, Jake grabs the door handle of the Bronco and tugs it open. "C'mon, pal. Outta the car."

A little begrudgingly, Bradley slowly steps out of the car. Jake doesn't miss the way he grabs onto the door to steady himself.

Now that he's out of the car and in the beam of his headlights, Jake gets a good look at him. Bradley is over six feet of lean tan muscle. His long legs are encased in blue jeans that fit a bit too snug around his narrow waist, but from there he only gets wider all the way up to his shoulders. He's got some height on Jake and if he weren't in shape himself, Jake would probably be a little intimidated.

Jake steps up to him. "Go ahead and turn around for me. Put your hands flat on the hood."

For a moment Jake thinks he isn't going to listen, but then Bradley smirks a little and does as he's told. "Normally I'd ask you to buy me dinner first, but whatever you say, Officer."

This time Jake is glad that he's turned around. He steps forward and uses one of his feet to knock Bradley's legs a little further apart so that he can pat him down. He's not surprised to find that there's nothing on him, but he always has to check.

"Are you always this forward, Bradley? Or just when you're drunk?"

"No, sir," Bradley promises him, refusing to flinch even as Jake's hands come dangerously close to his crotch. "Just when the officer is nice to look at."

Jake pulls away as Bradley turns around. He specifically remembers telling him to keep his hands flat on the cruiser but Jake is getting the impression that Bradley doing something that could hurt either one of them isn't something he needs to worry about so he lets it go. Typically a stupid decision but he trusts his gut.

Bradley leans back just slightly to prop himself up against the car and crosses his arms in front of his chest while giving Jake a smile. His big brown eyes are warm and dopey, his smile impish.

"You gonna cut me some slack?" he asks.

Habitually, Jake curls his fingers through the front of his belt. The familiar weight of his kevlar vest is heavy and comforting and somehow he finds that it settles his fluttering heart in his chest.

"You know it's considered an offense to flirt with an officer?" Jake tells him, trying to remain professional and stand his ground. If his eyes drop to observe the way the other man's pecks fill out his t-shirt, that's his business.

Bradley smiles, ducking his head a little abashedly. Jake doesn't miss the way his teeth release the pout of his bottom lip. "Does that apply to when you're off duty as well?"

Jake pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek to keep from smiling. It's not funny, and he shouldn't be flattered by the advances of a drunk stranger but he is. And maybe he does have some sympathy for the guy. He knows what it's like coming back to the states and trying to adjust back to civilian life. But that doesn't mean that he's above the law.

"Bradley," he begins, his voice firm but sympathetic. "You know you can't be driving around like this. As much as I'd like to, I can't let you go."

As far as he's concerned, Bradley doesn't seem to be hearing him at all.

"Y'know, of all the places I imagined myself being handcuffed, none of them were in the back of a cop car."

"Jesus Christ," Jake mutters, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Really, he has no words. "Okay, that's enough," he announces, giving up on getting Bradley to actually take this seriously. "Turn around for me."

Smiling as if feeling a little too pleased with himself, Bradley obediently shuffles around so that Jake can then walk up behind him and clasp his wrists together. He uses his other hand to retrieve his cuffs from his belt and clips them on.

They're a little tight but that's only because Bradley's broad shoulders prevent his wrists from fully meeting, his shoulder blades seemingly obstructed by the wide expanse of his back.

Jake is definitely not staring. 

If the cuffs are uncomfortable, Bradley doesn't say anything, and Jake walks him by one of his elbows to the cruiser.

"Watch your head," Jake instructs him as he opens the door for Bradley to step in. It's a tight fit but somehow he manages, scooting over the seat until he's sat in the middle, his long legs spread to either side in order to accommodate them. The denim of his jeans strain at the awkwardness of the angle and gives Jake a front row view of the bugle of his crotch.

Jake clears his throat, looking away. If it were for the fact that he was drunk, Jake would say he's doing it on purpose.

Before Jake can shut the door and leave with what little is left of his self preservation, Bradley's voice stops him.

"Wait, what about my car?"

When Jake leans down to poke his head into the backseat of the cruiser, the look on Bradley's face is actually concerned. That's a first, Jake thinks. "I'll call someone to tow it. It'll be impounded until you can come and pick it up from the station." When the worry on Bradley's face only increases, his mustache emphasizing the action, he follows with, "They'll take good care of it for you, I promise."

Bradley's eyes flicker to the old Bronco anxiously. "It's just that it's my dad's car. He, um, he died when I was a kid. So, y'know..." he explains, trailing off.

Of fucking course it is.

Jake sighs, hangs his head in defeat for a second, and then looks back into the car at Bradley. "Look, I'll make a deal with you. Promise me we won't meet like this again and I won't have them tow your car. You can just come get it in the morning."

Bradley grins. "Well I'd certainly like to meet you under different circumstances."

Jake slams the door shut.

The drive back into town is quiet. When he glances at the clock on his dashboard, he realizes he only has about an hour left to his shift. As he pulls into the little suburban neighborhood, having memorized the address on Bradley's license, he glances into the backseat through his rear view mirror.

At first he thinks that Bradley's knocked out in the backseat, head lulled back as he breathes slow and steady, but then he sees the whites of his hazel eyes illuminated by the occasional red and blue flash of his overhead lights. Their gazes meet through the mirror and the corner of Bradleys mouth lifts up in a half drunk smile. Jake shifts his gaze away to instead peer at the numbers on the houses. Finally he finds the address he's looking for and slows the cruiser as he pulls into the driveway.

He brings the car to a stop and slides out of the driver's seat, walking around the car to open up the side door. Bradley stares at him quizzically from the backseat.

"C'mon, hop out before I change my mind," Jake prompts, gesturing with his head for Bradley to get a move on. The tall brunette climbs out with as much ease as one can muster in a pair of handcuffs before he's once again standing face to face with Jake.

He's on the downside of his drunken stupor, more sleepy than buzzed if his drooping eyelids are anything to go by. His mustache lifts as he smiles down at Jake. It's still ridiculous looking but it makes more sense now that Jake knows his occupation. It's the only type of facial hair that's considered to be within regs.

Jake clears his throat. "You want me to take those off?" he asks, motioning towards the cuffs holding Bradley's hands behind his back.

"I might do something stupid if you do."

Jake freezes. "What?"

Before he knows it Bradley's kissing him. He connects their mouths with surprising ease. It's so smooth and he moves relatively quickly for someone who's mildly intoxicated that Jake doesn't even see it coming. Between Jake's surprise and Bradley's lack of hands, they're a bit top heavy and Jake has to fist the front of Bradley's t-shirt, his back hitting the side of the cruiser, to keep them from toppling over.

Bradley's mouth is warm, his lips pliant and soft, but he's firm in the kiss, unrelenting in the way that Jake couldn't have pulled away even if he wanted to.

He doesn't want to— he does— but he doesn't want to.

When he comes to his senses, Jake flattens a palm against Bradley's chest and shoves him away. Immediately his chest aches at the distance. He stands there, still half shocked, with his palm holding Bradley away at arm's length.

Really, he's not too sure what to do in this situation.

Bradley’s hazel eyes shine in amusement. He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Again Jake clears his throat. "Ahem— um, glad you got that out of your system," he says with a pat to Bradley's chest. And before anything else can occur, he swiftly steps around the other man and uncuffs his wrists.

Bradley groans in relief, bringing his hands in front of him to rub at his sore wrists. “I think your bondage play needs some work. Not that I’m complaining—”

“Go inside. Get some sleep, Bradley.”

Taking the not so subtle hint, Bradley straightens and fixes Jake with a mocking salute before he turns and makes him way to the front porch. He watches as Bradley unlocks the front door and turns to give him one last look before he steps inside.

“Until next time, Officer Seresin.”

Jake just shakes his head in disapproval, but he can’t disguise his smile. “There better not be a next time,” he calls up the driveway.

He doesn’t pull out the driveway until Bradley’s shut the door and he sees the porch lights flicker off.

Maybe he does like the night shift.

[enviedear]

Ohmygosh. I haven't been able to stop thinking about farmer Jason since you first posted about him! It's the midwestern in me. I think the first question would be what does he farm? Do you think he would be a cattle or, like, a corn and soybean kind of farmer? More like a farmhand for those people. Alternatively, he could have his own little farm just for himself. He would have a decent acreage with an old fixer upper. He'd have chickens for eggs and grow his own vegetables. He'd work to being self sufficient. But he is a city boy so he doesn't really know what he is doing. Ooooh i just realized the weather would be so different from Gotham. One day it is 80+ the next it is hailing and oh what is that? A tornado warning the next day? But it is raining without any clouds in the sky?? The summers are like swamp heat and how is it -30 outside and people are still wearing shorts and oh gosh is that a hail tornado? I have more thoughts but I like hearing yours more >///<

yay!!! i'm so glad you're loving farmer!jason <3

what does he farm? Do you think he would be a cattle or, like, a corn and soybean kind of farmer? More like a farmhand for those people.

i think he'd stick mostly to easier farm animals, and for himself mostly! i think he'd sell some products if he ever has too much (he never wants to have too much, because he knows someone else may need it) think goat cheese, cow milk, and eggs! i think his main source of income would come from his crops! probably wheat, and then hay when it's season for it! (he hates doing hay, it's expensive and labor intensive but the profit can be fucking amazing) also corn!! he would have a cornfield and he would deck it out for hayrides and a maze for the harvest season (all the town kids love mr. todd's farm...and the candy apples he gives out for free) so basically i think he'd do mixed farming lol!!

Ooooh i just realized the weather would be so different from Gotham. One day it is 80+ the next it is hailing and oh what is that? A tornado warning the next day? But it is raining without any clouds in the sky?? The summers are like swamp heat and how is it -30 outside and people are still wearing shorts and oh gosh is that a hail tornado?

as a girl with multiple tornado shelters on her land...if jason experiences one tornado he's building one. also i just know his first summer there he'd be DYING!! it's hot in a way that's literally almost inescapable. it's humid and unrelenting. he think's he'll get a break in the winter...no. southern winter is just ice on the roads...and i don't think the city is salting any roads by his house. (cause they're all backroads/dirt roads)

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Alpha!Billy Hargrove X Omega!AFAB!Reader

Summary: It was hard to pretend that everything could just go back to normal once your best friend present as an Alpha and you knew you were doomed to become a Beta. But can one night change it all?

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18 + Only. Language, talk of eating, bad mother figure, smoking depicted, friends to lovers, slight angst, crying, kissing. Omegaverse themes including: scent, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, mating

A/N: I have never written anything like this before but I love to read Omegaverse (guilty pleasure) please don’t hate me but constructive criticism is always welcome. 🧡💜

Stranger Things Master list

*~*~*~*~*~*

Something about today as you woke up just felt wrong. The sun lit the room through your window, bathing everything in its golden rays. You blink wearily against the light, pulling your baby blue comforter around your shoulders, something deep in your gut is begging to stay, to avoid the day like it and everyone in it didn’t exist; but the yelling from down stairs won’t allow it. So with no other choice you throw the covers to the foot of your bed and shuffle to your closet.

“Well about damn time.” You amble into the kitchen, meet not only with the sour look on your mother’s face but the almost permanent ring of smoke circling her head. Ignoring her you head straight for the fridge. The hinges creak, the small bulb illuminating the nearly empty shelves as you snatch up the brown paper bag.

“Listen, Jerry is taking me out later so I’m not gonna be home, fend for yourself. ” Her scratchy voice irritates you further, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Who? Jerry? Have I met him?

“Okay.” You glance at her briefly, bright pink curlers standing out amongst her greying hair, her attention fixed on the newspaper and Virginia Slims in her hand. The hard lines around her lips have turned her face into a scowl, and you briefly wonder when the last time you saw her smile was.

A horn blares outside in a short pattern, giving you your cue to leave. You force yourself to hurry to the door flinging your pack over your shoulder and shoving your feet into your shoes.

The late summer sun has already started baking the little town, the dew on the grass chilling your ankles as you make your way to the blue Camaro. Music rattles the windows as the driver drums to the beat on the steering wheel. You can faintly make out his head bobbing, blond curls swaying with the movement.

You pull the door open and flop in ungraciously, letting your head fall back against the leather seat with a groan. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Billy laughs from beside you as he starts to reverse out of your drive way, an unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

“Nothin’ good about it.” You mumble, only loud enough for him to hear over his music.

He glances at you fully, focusing on the bags under your eyes, how your skin is slightly paler than usual. You’re dressed simply in an old black shirt with your favorite jeans, the jeans you almost always wear because you’ve ‘broken them in just right’.

“You feeling okay?” Billy flicks off his music as he peels off down the backroad towards school, the long way.

You let your head lull to the side, managing a small smirk at the fact that you two had unknowingly coordinated your outfits, yet again. Though he fills his shirt out more, the arms tight on his biceps just how he likes, the bottom tucked into his jeans military style. “I don’t know. I just feel… weird.” You make a face, focusing back on the road watching the green trees zip by. The leaves are starting to brown, a result of being at the highest point of summer.

Billy pulls his own face, propping his elbow on the door, he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, twirling it between his fingers. “Weird how? Like sick weird, throw up weird, period weird-.”

You groan again cutting him off, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “Just weird. I just want to go back to bed.”

“Wanna play hooky?” It’s a genuine question and you like the idea of it, a lot, but you shake your head.

“No. It’s the day before break and if they find out you’re skipping again you’ll get a detention.” Billy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue because he knows you’re right.

The rest of the ride is comfortably silent, letting you doze off for a few more precious moments before the engine dying startles you awake. You sit up straighter, running your fingers through your hair as you glance around, suddenly catching Billy’s unwavering stare.

“What’s that smell?”

A look of horror crosses your features, suddenly grabbing your shirt to bring to your nose. “What smell? I smell?”

“No, no, no. like… did you get a new perfume?” You shake your head slowly, watching him try to piece together in his head what it could be. “It smells good, like really good.” But he can’t put his finger on what exactly it is, so he leans closer, sniffing the air around you.

“God you’re weird.” You laugh, smushing his face with your palm as you push him away. You grab your bag as he mutters under his breath, reaching behind the seat for his own. You both step out onto the gravel parking lot, other student milling about making their way towards either the high school or the middle school next door. You start to walk off, expecting Billy to follow only to have your arm tugged back, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, wait.” Billy looms over you slightly, making you crane your neck to keep eye contact. You still weren’t entirely use to that new aspect. “Why don’t you come over tonight? We really haven’t hung out outside of school since…” He trails off, looking at you hopefully and you feel your muscles tighten, prepared to give an excuse.

It’s been months since Billy presented as an Alpha, months since everything between the two of you had suddenly shifted. On top of the ego and hot attitude he already possessed, people suddenly expected more of him, respected him like they hadn’t before. An Alpha in a town run by Betas.

Coming from a family of all Betas, watching your best friend become suddenly so… important made your insides tent with green jealousy. As happy as you wanted to be for him you felt yourself pull away, not wanting to stand in his shadow.

“I don’t-.”

“Look, it’s still me, Y/n. It’s still just Billy. We can grab dinner, watch movies, I’ll even do those stupid mud masks if you want just… just come over.” Please. Billy was never one to beg, but for you he made an exception. He had a soft side he kept behind mean words and cruel actions, and only you were privy to it.

Sighing you glance at the ground, analyzing the different sized rocks and tuffs of grass that managed to grow between them. The yellow dandelions turning their faces to the sky. “Okay… I’ll think about it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

By lunch time you’ve progressively gotten worse, your body on autopilot as you move at a snails pace from class to class. Even most of your teachers have noticed, their honor student with her tired eyes, deciding to keep their questions for the rest of the class as you struggle to keep up. Currently you sit slumped over your food, your head in your hands, eyes closed and focusing on your breathing.

In your head you’re over thinking everything it could be, from the mild to the extreme. The flu to an aneurism, a common cold to a heart attack. Your paranoia latching on and prying deep. It’s only when you feel a presence creep up on you, no his presence, does something in your chest relax, letting your body shake off the unease.

“Hey, dolly.” Billy’s voice is warm and heavy when he drops into the seat beside yours, throwing an arm around your shoulders and dragging you into his side. The smell of his cologne is almost overwhelming, and it’s different, not the usual one he wears or the one you gifted him for his birthday. Pine, and leaves, and rain but something underneath that is entirely him.

“Hey.” You lean into his touch, your muscles relaxing and a soft sigh slipping past your lips. You don’t bother opening your eyes, just pressing your cheek into his chest, breathing him in.

Billy watches you, the soft lines in your face, the curve of your lips. Something in his brain demands to protect, the impulse so raw that it takes him by surprise. He tightens his grip on you, little to your notice.

“Still not feeling good?” You only shake your head in response. “Still thinking about coming over later?”

Yes.

It’s all you have been able to think about. It wasn’t like you had never spent the night with Billy before, either at his place or your own. That wasn’t what was bothering you.

You’d just never been alone with an Alpha. You’ve only meet three in Hawkins, the chief being one of them, and the other two married and mated. You’d heard the rumors that young Alphas were far more aggressive, unable to restrain themselves if their instincts took over, it was preached in every health class.

But what if he’s right? What if you’re just over reacting?

“Yeah, I’ll come over… but only if we go to Bennys tonight.”

Billy chuckles, and it’s a deep noise against your ear. “You drive a hard bargain.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Billy had made good on his promise.

He took you straight from school to the Family Video in town, letting you pick out whatever you wanted with the promise that it wasn’t going to be sad.

Then it was on to the little five and dine, Bennys, the one that has your favorite pancakes and fruit salad. He blared the mix tape you had made months ago, despite your groaning, feeling accomplished when he caught you nodding along.

The house is empty and dark, Billy explaining that Neil had taken Max and Susan off somewhere for the week, as the two of you bring in everything from the car. He flicks on the lights as you drop onto the couch, rubbing your clammy palms against the front of your jeans.

Billy hums softly as he walks around the small living room, setting down the movies and food on the low coffee table. He glances over at you, your face pinched, lip caught between your teeth, and leg bouncing a mile a minute.

“Dolly.” Your eyes snap to his, a little wide at the curt clip of his tone. Billy stops in front of you, holding out his hand, watching as you shakily take it, pulling yourself to your feet.

“I think I should go home, really I just feel-.”

“Weird. I know.” He ducks his head slightly, searching your face with sympathetic eyes, “But we’re gonna get it figured out. I want you to go grab a shirt from my closet, get on something comfortable and come back in here.”

His expression leaves no room for argument, so you do as you’re told. His room is lit only by the small desk lamp, but you know you could find your way around in total darkness. Billy always leaves your favorite shirt in the same place in the closet, the stained grey one that reaches the middle of your thighs and hangs loosely about your frame. Leaving your jeans and shoes pooled by the foot of his bed, you steal a look at yourself in his mirror and cringe. You look as tired as you feel, shoulders slumped, ghostly complexion like you’d never seen the sun before.

You turn away with a disgruntled grunt. When you come back out the living room is dark again, the tv and kitchen light your only guide as you pad across the burnt orange carpet. You step around the couch, avoiding the gym equipment laying against the wall so as to not stub your toes like you are prone to do when you are over.

Billy’s dumped fresh popcorn into a giant blue bowl, a snack he knows you can never resist, as he meets you in the arch way. He smiles down at you as he passes the dish over and turns you back towards the couch. Throw blankets are pulled out over the cushions and the tape is already playing through the advertisements. Your meals are set up on your respective ends of the table and you feel something in your heart tighten painfully.

“See, just like old times.”

And he was right.

The night crept away filled with laughter, food, and cheesy horror movies that had you groaning more than trembling. Half way through the first one you’re both complaining about the terrible quality and laughing at the others jokes. Half way through the second you’re throwing popcorn into the air to see who can catch the most while gossiping about the latest ‘Small Town Scandal’.

By the end of the third you’re curled into Billy’s side, his long legs stretched out in front of him as you struggle to keep your eyes open. He’s warm with his arm tucked around your shoulders, and his heart beat is steady against your ear. It lulls you in and out of sleep as the credits begin to roll.

“Billy…” You whisper, poking him in the side with your finger.

“Hmm?”

“Movie’s over.”

He groans and starts to sit up, helping you with a hand on your back. “Next time I pick the movies.” You both sluggishly move to his room, crawling under the grey covers of his full sized bed.

“Told you.” He mumbles, sleep making his voice deep and gravelly. “Right as rain.” You only give a small grunt though a smile pulls at your lips as you nestle under the covers, surrendering easily to the peaceful sleep that over comes you.

For a few hours at least.

*~*~*~*~*~*

You don’t know exactly how you ended up here, but here you are, curled in on yourself on the cold tile of Billy’s ugly green bathroom going into heat.

A heat you aren’t supposed to be having.

Tears steadily stream over your pink painted cheeks as you hug the side of the bathtub, another burning cramp sending a rush of pain through every nerve in your body.

It’s as if someone has doused you gasoline and struck a match. Your body burns from the inside out with an intensity you’d never felt before, the cramps in your lower stomach hurling you into the fetal position as the continue to seize your body. But above it all was the ache between your thighs. Your sex pulsed and squeezed, fogging your thoughts through the waves of arousal soaking your panties and dripping down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Why is there so much?

You desperately try to think about anything you’ve learned over the years about Omegas and their heats, but all you can focus on is the ache in your body. What good are you as a straight A student if you can’t remember a simple health class?

You groan, pitchy and breathless, trying to muffle the noise by biting into your lip. Subconsciously, you’re praying that something, anything, anyone, would save you from this hell as you sob harder, another cramp slicing through your abdomen.

“Y/n?” Billy’s voice floats through the wooden door and you freeze, even the tremors in your muscles stop momentarily. You don’t dare make a sound, don’t even breath as you wait, hoping it’s your imagination until the white door rattles under his knuckles. “Sweetheart? I’m coming in…”

Your head snaps up, eyes landing on the unlocked brass handle and you nearly slip on the small rug in your efforts to get up. A fresh wave of pain seizes your body with a whine as the door swings open.

The low amber light illuminates him against the dark hallway, his curly hair tussled from sleep, pressed down on one side. He’s only wearing those annoyingly short gym shorts, his bronze skin and large frame on display. His chest is rising and falling quickly, like he’d just ran miles to get here.

Billy had woken to that same scent from earlier pelting his senses, stronger, and all fully feminine. Lavender and vanilla and lilac but earthy and natural and purely his. It covered his sheets and comforter and filled his room. He followed it straight to the bathroom, his wolf guiding him more than himself and now he’s entranced, bewitched even as he stares down at you.

Your cheeks are wet, hair teased like you’d been pulling on it. The shirt you are wearing is soaked with cold sweat, and he can smell your slick, making his mouth water.

A deep rumbling growl escapes from his chest before he can even register it’s happening, pulling a submissive whimper from you as you drop onto the edge of the tub, staring wide eyed like a lost puppy. He takes a step closer and you flinch involuntarily, embarrassed and horrified this was all happening right here, right in front of him as your wrap your arms around your center.

“I… I need to go home, Billy.” Your voice is uneven and octaves higher, your chest constricting with each painful breath as your watery eyes drop away from his smoldering gaze. Billy couches down in front of you on the shaggy bath mat, wrapping a large palm around the back of your calf. He gives the tense muscle a firm squeeze, trying to ground you in anyway he can as you whimper and squirm, his presence worsening the pain.

This is what Alphas do to Omegas, unknowingly spur this heat into overdrive.

Billy takes a steadying breath, licking his lips, and searches your tear streaked face. “You’re in heat, little Omega…” It’s like his words amplify everything by ten and your suddenly teetering on the edge of the tub, your hands flying out for support as a wave of pain makes you cry out.

Your palms land on his chest as you finally drag your gaze to his, his blue irises hooded with that animalistic need, mirroring your own. “I don’t… understand… why?” You pant, his scent intoxicating making you lean in, unable to get enough.

Billy only shakes his head, pressing in closer, spreading your knees around his waist as his hand travels up to your thigh. “You’re presenting, it’s going to be okay.” Billy’s other hand finds your hip, and it takes every last bit of concentration you have to focus on him as your sex pulses with need, demanding attention.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do… it hurts so bad…” Your voice breaks, shaking harshly as your hands slip up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer without a thought because he feels so good, so right against your skin as his width presses your thighs farther apart. Billy doesn’t stop you either, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your fingers tangling into the hair at the back of his neck. Your scent is over powering at this proximity, his grip tightening on your body to control himself.

He coos lightly, his eyes dropping to your lips, specifically your plump lower one now darkening as a bruise forms in the shape of your teeth. “I know baby, I’m here, I’m going to help you.”

“How?” You croak, the uncertainty in your voice stabbing Billy in the chest.

“You trust me right?” He drops his voice to a whisper, his body flush with your own, hands slowly skimming up your body to rest against your neck. You swallow thickly, before nodding. Billy leans forward, closing off that last little bit of distance with a testing kiss.

Need shoots through you, stronger that ever and you respond hungrily. Your arms slip fully around his neck, sliding off of the tub with a desperate moan. Instinct takes over, your submissiveness showing as you open yourself to him, Billy’s tongue licking into your mouth as the kiss turns more wild.

Billy stands, holding you easily with two large hands cupping your ass, as he turns heading for the door. Your legs wrap around his waist, humming into the kiss as he bumps into a wall, his steps uneven as he makes his way into his bedroom.

You gasp for breath as he lowers you both onto the bed, his weight warm and welcoming. “Pretty Omega, my sweet girl.” His lips tickle your ear as he leans in, his hands fisting the blankets by your head as he starts to leave the bed. You whine loudly, your legs locking around his hips forcefully. Billy chuckles, a deep sound that makes your back bow up. “Gotta let go, let me up honey.”

“Please…” You beg, “Don’t leave me, Alpha.” It is the first time you have ever used his new title, his pounding heart going into double time. He shifts his weight, cupping your face with one hand, as your squirm. You desperately try to rut your hips against his, the feeling of having him so close but not close enough making your chest constrict and your head spin.

Somewhere in the back of your lust addled brain you knows you should be embarrassed, your desperation turning you into someone you’re not. But the new beast prowling under your skin refuses to let that happen. She knows just what she wants and will have it.

“I’m right here baby, but you’ve got to let me help you. You can do that, can’t you?” Billy’s words are laced with a calming purr, thumb swiping carefully over your lips, catching on the bottom one and pulling it down slightly. Only when you nod, your limbs relaxing around him, does he let it go with a soft plop. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t bother with formalities, instead gripping the collar of the old t-shirt in both hands and tugging. He rips the worn material down the center, making you yelp in surprise. He’s more forgiving with your panties, fingers dipping below the elastic as he tugs them down your legs. The pale purple cotton is drenched with your slick, turning the color a dark shade that makes him moan at the sight. Billy tosses them over his shoulder carelessly, fixing his attention on your trembling body laid out before him.

“You’re so wet, just fucking drenched.” You jump and moan as he swipes a finger through your puffy lips, watching as your cunt squeezes around air. He wasn’t lying when he said you were drenched, your slick glistening off of your thighs, slipping down the curve of your ass to his bedsheets. The sight alone is enough to have him throbbing painfully in the confines of his shorts.

He can’t help himself as he starts to play with your pussy, barely dipping his long fingers between your lips before dragging them up to your clit. He circles the bud slowly, watching in awe as you respond so eagerly, head thrown back loud moans filling the space around you. You cry an abundance of pleas, his name mixed with any other words you can manage to string together. Your hips rock to take his fingers deeper each time he circles your opening, face scrunched with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Finally pulling himself away from your body, Billy nearly shreds his shorts in his haste to get rid of them. His cock springs free with a groan, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily as his head drops back. It’s pulsing and uncomfortably hard, beads of milky precum roll down his thick shaft, catching in the corse blond hair at the base.

“Look at me, Omega.” His demand washes over you, compelling you the only way and Alpha can, to do as your told. You lift your head, dazed eyes settling on his handsome face. His kiss swollen lips are parted slightly, eyes wild with need as his gaze consumes you. You never felt more exposed and yet safe at the same time.

Then your eyes flicker lower.

You let loss a wavering moan, fingers curling into the covers as you openly stare. Billy smiles, enjoying the way you follow his hand as he wraps it around himself, pumping his shaft slowly. He’s big, bigger than you would of imagined him to be. His fingers barely wrapping around his girth and if you want to be honest with yourself it’s intimidating.

“Billy… I’ve never…” He climbs onto the bed between your thighs, rough hands slipping down your skin, squeezing the supple fat under his fingertips.

“It’s okay, let me take care of you.” Billy leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, distracting kiss. Your eyes fall shut, arms slipping around his shoulders as he slowly aligned himself with your entrance. He presses forward and you gasp against his lips. The thick mushroom head squeezes in with a soft pop, breaching your walls and already making you feel so full and empty all at once.

Billy’s hand makes it’s way down to your thigh, lifting your leg and spreading you open as he drives his hips forward. He moans loudly, pressing his forehead against yours as he stills, a little under halfway inside you. “Takin’ me-fuck- you’re takin’ me so well.”

Your nails are digging into his skin, leaving big red lines in their wake as you try to hold onto something. You’d feel bad under normal circumstances if it didn’t seem like he was enjoying it so much. Billy’s lips find your neck, nuzzling the underside of your jaw, and trailing down to your shoulder. He’s breathing you in between sloppy kisses, your scent somehow sweeter than before.

“Please… please Billy.” Your leg hooks around his hips to encourage him to move and with one finally thrust he bottoms out into your spasming cunt. Your head presses back into the mattress, a low moan rattling out of your chest as the feeling of it all washes over you. You’re stuffed full, his weight bearing down on you, but for the first time in hours you feel a sense of calm settle into your bones. You were made for him, made just for this.

Billy lifts his head, your eyes catching in the dim light, and he gives you a lopsided smile. He pulls nearly completely out before filling you up again. You cry out his name, voice cracking on the syllables.

“That’s right baby, just like that.” Your walls flutter around his cock, his thrusts evening out as he finds his pace. Your hips rock to meet his, soft noises falling from your lips to accompany the harsh moans leaving him. The head of his cock is kissing your cervix, bringing in an entirely different kind of pain with the pleasure.

“Alpha… please… gonna cum!” Your fingers find his hair, tugging harshly as your body shakes harder. Billy slips his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles against your throbbing clit. You scream as your orgasm washes over your body so quickly it leaves you dizzy, your release gushing and coating his cock.

“Fuuuuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, teeth bared as he fucks you through it. Your cunt trying to milk his own from him as he picks up his pace. You sob loudly, tears rolling down your temples as your hands slip to his sides, urging him not to stop.

“Please… Alpha… I uhh-.”

He slams into you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “You’re so pretty on my cock, I just want to keep you here. Fuck your like this for the rest of my life.” His hand skims up to your abdomen, he presses down ever so slightly and you gasp, hips bucking at the sudden pressure. “This pussy was made just for that wasn’t it? Made just for me.”

Billy pulls out at a maddeningly slow drag, your cunt fighting to keep him in as he rubs along every right spot, making pleasure bloom at the base of your spine and radiate outwards. Only the tip of his cock rests between your folds, anticipation and excitement humming adding to the trembling of your limbs.

“Tell me baby.” Billy mumbles, cupping the back of your neck, squeezing and lifting you up from the mattress slightly. Your eyes lazily slide open, a languid smile spreading across your face that makes him falter. His heart suddenly beats impossibly faster, all of his thoughts flying from his brain except one.

This girl is mine.

“S-so good, ba-baby… d-don’t stop.” You stutter out between chattering teeth, hips rocking up taking him a few centimeters deeper.

Billy growls lowly pushing in all the way before pulling back out, he falls forward, bending you nearly in half as he cages you in. His mouth finds yours, sloppy and clashing teeth as his hips piston against yours, driving himself impossibly deeper as you cry and moan for him.

“You feel so fucking good,” He pants, lips skimming along your cheek, past your slack jaw and to your throat, nuzzling the delicate area where he can see your pulse pounding. “Always knew you’d feel this good.”

“B-Billy… Billy I’m gonna…” With each thrust your orgasm draws closer, pushing you to the limits of your pleasure, head tossed back and toes curling as you cling to him. Your cunt squeezes around him, pulsing rhythmically, letting him know you’re close.

“I’m gonna come Y/n, I’m gonna fuck you full of me and you’re going to take it all, are you? Gonna let me breed you, baby?” Billy isn’t graced with a reply, instead your body draws taught against his as you scream his name. Your orgasm rushes over you, washing any sense from your brain as your hips buck against his, and it’s his undoing.

Billy bottoms out, rope after rope of thick cum spilling into your spasming pussy, his knot swelling and locking you in place as he ruts into you. You can feel each pulse, and twitch, his spend filling you and sedating that insatiable need for the time being. Your body relaxes into his, that smile never leaving your lips.

“My Omega.” He whispers against your skin, teeth dragging and scratching your skin as he fights himself, his wolf demanding to lay its claim. “I need you.” He breaths, sinking his teeth into your flesh.

*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time morning seeps in through the blinds, neither of you have slept. Currently your laid out on his chest, the sheet draped over your backside as his seed fills your cunt. Billy’s hand is imbedded in your hair, the other on your hip, gripping you to him as he moans into the air.

It takes several minutes, and by the time his grip slackens there’s a small bulge in your abdomen. You’re blinking lazily, the haze of the night slowly clearing itself from your mind. “Billy?”

“Yes, baby?” His heart beat is evening out, the rhythmic thump seeping into your body.

You swallow, lifting your head and resting your chin on his chest. His eyes are closed, head tilted back relaxed against the pillows. His palm rubs up and down your side, gentle and calm.

Sometime during the night, between lust filled spurts of need, you had felt the mark. Your fingers had traced over the raised indents his teeth had left, several times. The realization that you were mated to your best friend hitting you like a crushing pile of bricks, and yet…

“We’re mated.” You whisper, feeling his chest stutter slightly. He clears his throat, the hand in your hair twitching slightly.

“I should of asked you. I’m sorry.” His voice holds a note of something you can’t place, his eyes are still closed, refusing to look at you. You sit up slowly, his knot still firmly in place, moaning a little at the feeling. That grabs his attention. Billy’s gaze snags on your face, where he finds your softly smile and gentle eyes.

“There are worse people to be mated with, I suppose.” Billy smiles, his hands resting on your hips, his grip firm and comforting.

“Definitely, could of been Danny.” You shudder at the thought of Billy’s little minion of a friend and he laughs loudly. “Come’er.” You happily oblige, kissing him slowly, pouring yourself into him as he does the same. Everything falling into the perfect rhythm.

There are definitely worse ways to find your forever.

[ifangirlalot]

If you're comfortable with that just know I'll be requesting again soon hehe

I was thinking- finn with a chubby/thick fem reader ?

I think it would be so cute to see him wanting to have his hands all over her 24/7 because of how soft she must be

🍓 anon ? :)

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ˎˊ˗ | starring finn wolfhard

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

~fluff!~ [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: fluff, fluff, fluff, and love for my curvy babies<3 (you're fucking gorgeous and i love the fuck out of all of you)

Also! Omg, I would fucking love if you guys used cute lil emojis as your nicknames, that would be fucking adorable.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ UGH. DAMN GIRL, YOU ARE SO FUCKING FINE.

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ ^^^ Says Finn at least ten times a day. He means it sincerely. Like, he has never meant something more in his life. He loves your curves and your chub. He needs to touch it constantly to feel fulfilled.

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ You're just so soft and cute. Finn doesn't feel good if he can't put his hands on your cute little belly or on your thick thighs.

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ He wants to kiss your sweet skin constantly and run his hands along your figure, letting his hands ride those curves like backroads. There's so much of you to love, and he has no shortage of attention to give.

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ Please, PLEASE sit on his lap. Let him hold you. Straddle him with your thighs. Let him tell you about how fucking sexy he thinks you are.

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ Finn is the world's biggest hypeman. Wear short skirts and croptops around him so he can kiss your belly and your thighs and give them cute little squeezes.

"Baby, I'm not even joking. Please, PLEASE crush me with your thighs. Break every fucking bone in my body with them, I am BEGGING you."

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ Do not ever give him the "I don't wanna crush you :(" shit. GODDAMN IT, SIT DOWN ON HIS LAP AND LET HIM HOLD YOU.

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ If you have stretch marks, Finn would love to touch them and kiss them and just trace them for hours without showing any signs of getting bored.

𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ ^^^ calls them your tiger stripes.