#he tried calling my bluff

[maramahan]

So there’s this thing in VtM…

When one vampire feeds from another kindred, it may happen that they drink too deep - and for vampires, blood is everything; it’s the essence of life, and it carries that bit of Self that (in humans) might be called a soul

And when you drain another dry… when you devour and destroy another person so thoroughly… it stains you. You’ve committed what many see as the ultimate sin — the most complete kind of cannibalism. Dark veins grow within your aura, and those with the skill to see such things will Know Your Crimes.

Given time, these marks will fade.

…provided you don’t do it again.

MEANWHILE

I never meant for any of this to happen but my baby bat Hatfield is out here making choices pls send help

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Okay I just need to say that I knew I'd like this Tailstube as soon as I saw the thumbnail (after all, I am a Sonadails enjoyer, and Tails is literally in the middle of them in the thumbnail)

But I think probably something that stood out the most to me when I watched it was just

The hints that Shadow and Tails have a relationship outside of Sonic??

The first thing that tipped me off to this was that not only did Tails convince Shadow to join in on his show, he also convinced him to stick around to its natural end?? You know, Shadow. The guy you can't force to do anything and frequently will just dip if he's bored or doesn't want to be there. But even while Sonic was annoying him and he made it clear he wanted the "interview" over with, he still never made a move to chaos control out of there because of any of this.

And the second thing that tipped me off was this:

When Shadow is both confused and annoyed at Sonic, he chooses to complain to Tails about Sonic. And so Tails steps in to try to "explain" what Sonic meant by what he said (i.e he told Shadow something much nicer in the interest of getting them to be on better terms). The fact that he looks to Tails to complain to about Tails' own best friend and possibly even to explain that which he does not understand in a social context tells me just how highly he regards Tails. And since both Shadow and Sonic are being childish here, it's amusing to see Tails regarded as something closer to a trusted figure with more power here.

From an objective analysis standpoint, of course this means they have their own friendship. And this is a prospect I enjoy (The idea that Tails and Shadow are good friends)! It actually means a lot to me that Tails could form a frienship or bond with Shadow outside of the context of Sonic (in terms of who initiates it and for what reason it's initiated).

But, my friends, from a biased standpoint, I'm shipping trash. And to me this Tailstube was a fun show for Sonadails fans. Honestly, Tails staging this episode to get Sonic and Shadow to talk and "bury the hatchet", as well as how he acts during the show, read a lot to me personally like a guy trying to get his two boyfriends (who happen to be rivals) to get on better terms, if not just tolerate each other. I quite like the idea of Tails dating both of these idiots and just trying to get them to play nice when they're all together (although frankly I think the ideal scenario for Tails in my biased reading is that Sonic and Shadow get together as well).

This is also not to mention the dynamics showcased here! Sonic and Tails as best friends, with Sonic assuming that he and Tails were gonna talk shit about Shadow behind his back, and Tails trying to get him to play nicer. Shadow and Tails as friends, with Tails trying to convince him why he and Sonic are in the perfect position to become friends and helping him out socially, and with Shadow choosing to do something he doesn't want to because of Tails, as well as looking to Tails to complain to when Sonic is annoying him or when he doesn't understand something. And then there's Sonic and Shadow. In short, their relationship in this episode reminded me a lot of the dynamic I plotted out for that Sonadow post I wrote up where the two just beat the crap out of each other. In slightly longer terms, I find interesting how Mr. Flynn maintained Sonic and Shadow's dynamic during SA2 (with Sonic bothering Shadow and trying to fight him, while Shadow is just annoyed that Sonic won't leave him alone) while also showing the audience that they are rivals. And in longer terms...Sonic was clearly seeking a fight during this episode. And the facial expression, the mocking, his tone of voice, it doesn’t really matter whether or not he actually dislikes Shadow and believes they could never be friends. He's trying to annoy Shadow and goad him into a fight because he wants to fight Shadow so badly it makes him look stupid. And we can tell by how he expresses his confusion to Tails that Shadow is just not getting this. To him Sonic is just being annoying and confusing. Sonic is targeting him specifically, and Shadow shoots back with his own words. And so it's also pointed that Shadow reciprocates/actually decides to fight Sonic when Sonic specifically challenges him. He doesn't respond to Sonic trying to goad him on, but when Sonic challenges him specifically he's much more interested in opposing him.

Anyways guys I love Shadow and Tails having a soft on the side relationship while Sonic flirts by convincing Shadow to fight him somehow😂💖

[quietwingsinthesky]

the doctor calls her “my clara” exactly 4 times and im so normal about all of them

[larrythefloridaman]

maybe J0hn for the character bingo? owo

love this man ive been attached to him since he first showed up <3 dont have too much new i can think of to say about him though

[eddiesxangel]

1-800-HOT-TO-GO | E.M

Anonymous asked: Can i request a fic where either the reader reveals during a pizza and beers hangout she was a phone sex operator for a brief time and everyone is shocked and one of them jokingly asks if she was any good and she whispers something dirty in their ear and it changes their friendship

Cw: fem!reader, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk 1.7k words

“Come again?”

“I used to work a sex hotline,” you shrug like it was no big deal.

“No way,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

You hear Steve and the others giggle around you, also in disbelief.

“Wanna bet?”

“Try me.” He wants to call your bluff because no way in hell did he not know this about you. You always were reserved when it came to talking about sex; you never had you seemed promiscuous.

You hold up your hand to your ear, pretending it is a phone, and Eddie follows your lead.

“Ring ring,” he giggles.

“Hello.” You changed the pitch of your voice to be more sultry.

“Hi,” he smirks.

“Can I get a name, handsome?”

“ Eddie”

“Mmmm, hi, Eddie. I’m Candy.”

“Candy?”

He breaks character, but you don’t.

“the boys say it’s because I’m so sweet.” You fake giggle.

“This is my first time calling. I’m not sure what to do here.”

“That’s okay, I’ll walk you through it… you want to get comfortable for me?”

Eddie looks around the room at the others, who are trying to stifle their giggles. This night was supposed to be chill, with pizza and beers. He wasn’t really sure how you all ended up here.

“I’m comfortable.” He says without actually moving.”

“I wish I could see; you sound so sexy.” You sigh.

Another giggle leaves Eddie’s lips because who is this person who’s taken over your body?

“Yeah? you wish you could see be, Dollface?” Playing into it more.

You lean in to whisper so only he can hear it this time. “oh yeah, big boy; I bet your cock is already nice and hard for me. Such a good boy, I want you to fill me.” You sit back, take a loose tendril, twirl his hair around your finger, and watch Eddie’s eyes widen at what you just said.

“Oh-okay, that’s enough.” He chuckles, trying not to give away how turned on he just got. “I believe you!”

You sit back with a giggle and grab another slice of pizza like nothing just happened.

Everyone looked at you with shock.

Eddie quickly gets up and excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

“What did you say?!” Robin begs.

You shrug in response like it was another day at work… which it has been.

“Damn, is it hot in here?” Steve pops the collar of his shirt.

“You guys need to loosen up, my god.”

While you were still enjoying your pizza, Eddie was having a crisis. Never had he thought of you in that way until moments ago, listening to those filthy words slip from your lips.

“I bet your cock is already nice and hard for me. Such a good boy, I want you to fill me,” your words replayed in his mind while he tried to fight the blood rushing to his stiffening cock.

He can’t go back out there like this. Eddie splashed cold water on his face to try to snap him out of it, but it didn’t help.

A quick rap on the door startles Eddie out of his inner monologue.

“You okay, big boy? You’ve been in there fifteen minutes.” He hears you laugh from the other side.

Had it really been that long?

Eddie’s issue had not been resolved; in fact, it had worsened as he tried to push down the thought of you naked and spread out for him… talking to him like that.

“Yeah-I-uh- just a minute.” Eddie wanted to pull his hair out at how frustrated you had made him.

You were just pals, bubbies, amigos.

You weren’t attractive… were you?

Eddie never thought to look at you in that way; you’re just a friend, always had been, always will be… unless?

The more Eddie thought about it, the more he realized he did think your hair looked really pretty tonight. The way you always did your makeup really brought out your beautiful features…and when he got a whiff of your delicious perfume when you twirled his hair, he thought his.

“You sure?” You try to jiggle the door handle, but it’s locked.

“Shit,” Eddie curses under with breath.

“Come on, Ed, talk to me, please?”

You hear the lock unlatch and watch the doorknob slowly turn as Eddie pokes his head out.

“Hi,” he’s short and sounds a bit out of breath.

“I hope what I said didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

Ed saw the worried look in your eyes.

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but…no.”

“Yes, but no?”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. He didn’t see a way out of this. He stepped aside to let you in and shut the door behind you.

“Eddie?” You look up at him.

“Hm?”

His eyes snap to your concerned face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was a big deal! It did it all the time for work; I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. clearly, I overstepped a boundary-“

“You’re not the only one.”

“What do you mean?”

Eddie moves his strategically placed hands to reveal the tent formed in his jeans and watches as your face falls into amused shock.

You cup your mouth to stifle an unexpected giggle.

“That’s not the reaction a guy wants when he shows a girl how turned on he is.”

“I’m sorry, I just!-didn’t think?”

“It’s okay. I’m just trying to get rid of it, but it’s not going away.”

“You mean?”

“I’m waiting it out.”

“Oh, ok.” You nod awkwardly.

An awkward silence washes over the both of you as you try so hard not to stare at his crotch.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for your help if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Ok…”

Another very uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, trying to do everything in your power so as not to look down.

“I um… I guess I’ll just.” You point to the door that he’s blocking.

“Uh. Ok,” he nods and steps to the side.

You close the door behind you but don’t leave. You lean against the door and take a deep breath, trying to make sense of the evening.

Why did the thought of turning Eddie on excite you? He’s a friend. Just a friend. I always had and always will be.

With a deep breath, you go to push yourself up off the door, but before you’re able to, you hear your name being moaned from the other side of the door.

You froze. You knew you should move, but your feet were locked in place. More heavy breaths and the sound of muffled moans seeped from under the door gap, and you pressed your ear to the door.

Eddie was jerking off because of you… and you liked it?

Eddie bit back screaming your name as he finally released himself into the bathroom tissue. Finally, he could return to rejoin everyone without being physically uncomfortable.

He discarded his release, tucked himself back in, washed his hands, and unlocked the door, but he was ambushed when you fell onto him when he went to open the door.

You let out a squeak as you lost your balance, falling into Eddie as the door was opened from under you.

“Woah,” Eddie catches you before you’re able to fall. His rage hands wrap around your biceps, gripping tightly to brace your fall.

“Were you spying on me?”

“Oh god, sorry” you’re so embarrassed. The whole evening has been one shit show. You scramble to find your fitting to create space between you and Eddie.

“You were spying on me!”

“Shhhhh! Keep your voice down.”

“You totally were spying on me!” He accused.

“You’re the one who moaned my name!” You defend.

Eddie’s cheeks reddened.

“You’re the one who said all those… things!” his hands flailed.

“You’re the one who egged it on!”

“So!”

“So?”

“Yeah, so!”

“Woah, guys, what’s going on here?” Steve pops his head around the corner.

“Nothing,” you both glare.

“Ohhhhhkayyyyyyyy,” Steve turns a heel and walks back to the kitchen to grab a drink.

“Eddie,” you sigh, “I don’t want to argue. This is dumb, and we can pretend it never happened.”

“We could, but I gotta know.”

“What’s that?”

“Did you like it?” He took a step closer, filling the gap between you.

“What?” You look up at him.

“I asked if you like listening to me?” he brushed your hair behind your shoulder.

You gulp, not expecting Eddie’s demeanour to switch on a dime.

“I… I don’t know?”

“I think you did, and you’re too scared to admit it.” You can smell him. He is so close to you.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You watch as he leans in closer.

“Just trust me.” His hands find the back of your neck, pulling you close.

“Eddie?”

“Let me try something.”

“Kay,” you whisper.

Eddie’s lips graze yours ever so lightly before he presses them fully.

A million and one thoughts run through your mind as Eddie kisses you.

You blame the cheap beer for letting this happen. You blame the beer for liking it. You blame the beer for kissing him back. You blame the beer for the tongue slip and the beer for how you wanted to moan when he pulled away.

“Woah”

“Yea woah,” you repeated dumbly.

“um… did you like it?”

“Yeah… did you?”

“Yeah.”

“cool… now what?”

“go out with me,” Eddie states confidently.

“Like a date?”

“what else would it be?” He chuckles.

“I don’t know?” You shrug, embarrassed that Eddie is getting you all flustered.

“You’re cute when you don’t know what to say.” He smirks.

“I’m cute?” You never thought hearing Eddie say those words would send butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

Eddie doesn’t answer verbally; he leans in to kiss you again to confirm his statement.

“We should get back to the others.” You sigh as you pull away.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“You didn’t ask me anything.”

“Yes, I did. I asked you out.”

“No, you said go out with me. That’s a statement, not a question.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No,” Yes, you were totally messing with him.

“Will you go out on a date with me?”

“Just say yes! You’ve been gone for half an hour!” You hear Robin yell from the living room.

“Robin!” You hear Steve scold.

“What?”

You can’t help but laugh and can’t believe the next world’s coming out of your mouth.

“Okay, I’ll go out with you, Eddie.”

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Close to You - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer is needy and Reader has a work deadline to meet, so they try something new as a compromise.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: me writing another cockwarming fic? it’s more likely than you’d think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (no mommy kink this time cuz this feels more mild as far as the sub/dom dynamic goes, maybe next time!)

TW: sub!spencer, softdom!reader, cockwarming, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, creampie, afab reader

Rating: R/18+ (oops all smut)

——

The blue light of your computer screen was starting to make your eyes hurt, the hours of completed paperwork in your rearview feeling like nothing compared to the digital mountain of remaining work for your proposal you still had to complete by the deadline your boss had given you. Working from home certainly had its perks, but right now the only thing you could think of was how much more focused you’d be if you were still in an office.

“How’s work going?” Spencer’s voice broke your train of thought as he turned the corner into your home office.

“It’s fine, I still have a lot to get done.” You sighed, continuing to type away on your keyboard.

“You know, I was reading an article the other day about studies being conducted that explore the long term effects the extended work hours work-from-home jobs require have on the average adult, it went pretty in-depth on how psychologists suspect the lack of separation between work and the home environment can negatively affect the way we prioritize professional work with personal tasks and quality time.” You could tell your boy-wonder was using his vast knowledge to pick an article with a topic that was a bit too on the nose to beat around the bush of his point, but you didn’t know why.

“That’s very interesting Spencer, but why bring that up when you know I can’t stop working?” You questioned, calling his bluff.

“We haven’t had sex in 2 weeks.” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You knew that, and it was driving you crazy just as much as it was him, but this project was major and if you wanted to get the promotion you had been working so hard to get, you had to set your personal needs aside for a bit.

“I’ll make it up to you once I finish this, I promise.” You weren’t lying, your accidental celibacy had stretched your imagination to some very interesting places, and you couldn’t wait to try those new things with him, but it had to wait, no matter how touch-starved you felt.

“I want you.” He almost whined, taking a couple steps further into your peripheral vision.

“Spencer, you know I need to get this project completed before my deadline tomorrow, I don’t have time for this.”

“But I need…help.” His words were drawn out, his hushed tone piquing your interest. You pushed your chair out, craning your neck to make eye contact with him before his gaze dipped lower and yours followed. The fabric of his pajama pants was pulled taut over his bulge, his fidgeting hands barely restricting your view despite his attempt to hide the evidence of his arousal behind them.

“Oh baby, that must hurt, huh?” You sighed, giving him a sympathetic look before turning back to your work.

“It does, I need you.” He pleaded, coming up behind you to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“You need to take care of it yourself.” Your statement came out more blunt than you intended and a hint of guilt started to pang in your chest, the stress of this deadline was starting to get to you and you didn’t mean to take it out on him.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy, but I already tried and I just made it worse, you feel so much better than my hand does.” He over-explained, continuing to plead his case as his fingers started kneading the sore muscles atop your shoulders.

You mulled over your options, the concept of his admittedly impressive cock filling your neglected cunt sounding all-too appealing in the moment. You knew you couldn’t take the time to fuck him right now, after no sex for two weeks your carnal urges would absolutely take over and you’d wind up ignoring your work for the rest of the night, to the detriment of your employment status. You were about to send him away when an idea popped into your head, something that could be a good compromise to both of your predicaments if done correctly.

“Drop your pants.” You bluntly stated, beginning to stand from your chair. He followed your instruction, a bit confused but too excited to question, always eager to please you. You also stripped from the waist down, ignoring the growing slick between your thighs.

“Sit down.” Came your next instruction, your eyes fixed on his erection, his head blushed pink and dripping with precum. When he was situated you climbed back onto the chair with him, positioning your knees on the suede fabric on either side of his thighs, hips hovering over his member. You reached down, fingers wrapping around his length as you positioned his head at your dripping entrance, reveling in the first sexual contact the two of you had experienced in far too long.

You slowly sank down, your warm walls engulfing his throbbing cock until you were seated fully on his lap, the fullness giving you a sense of satisfaction. Spencer’s breathy sighs and white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were, but you knew he would want more any second. You on the other hand were always better at controlling your desires, even just this level of intimacy enough to satiate you for the moment.

You relaxed into him, back pressed to his chest as you began your work once again, ignoring the dull ache in your core.

“A-are you going to move?” Spencer’s desperate voice broke the silence after a few minutes of you typing away at your computer.

“No. This is all I have time to give you right now. If you’re a good boy and stay still for me, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight.” You were curious to see how well he’d do with this. Even though Spencer prided himself on being the smartest in the room at any given time, he wasn’t very good at controlling his urges and it amused you how his composure could disappear if he was desperate enough, particularly around you.

“Okay.” He breathed, seeing the muscles in his arms relax and the grip he held on the chair loosen out of the corner of your eye.

You continued your work, busting your ass to complete your project as quickly as possible. Every once and awhile you’d flex your kegel muscles, your walls contracting around his cock to keep him as hard as possible, teasing him to see how hard you could push his patience.

You grew closer to your last tasks, the end finally in sight when you felt him start to shift under you, hips attempting to thrust up into you. You anchored your hips, holding him down to not break your focus. He let out the most pathetic whine you’d ever heard, running his hand through his hair out of frustration.

“If you move again, you won’t cum tonight. I’m almost done, do not distract me again.” You told him sternly, rocking your hips back one time as an incentive.

“Understood.” He groaned, thighs relaxing beneath you.

You wrapped up the last paragraph of your proposal, satisfied with the work you had done. You could feel Spencer tense when you closed out of the last application and shut off the computer, screen darkening and leaving the two of you bathed in the golden glow of sunset in an otherwise dark room. Instead of finishing him there, you rose off of him, leaving him groaning in desperation.

His cock was covered in your slick, veins throbbing and head almost purple from how desperate he was to cum. You started walking out of the room, finger motioning for him to follow you and he almost tripped over the chair, trailing in your shadow. You found the bedroom, stripping out of your remaining clothing while contemplating what position you wanted him in. Your thighs were starting to burn from sitting in the position you had held for so long, so you opted for good old-fashioned missionary. You laid down on the bed, thighs spread as Spencer pulled off his shirt and waited for your instruction.

“Come here.” The words had barely left your lips and Spencer was already on the end of the bed, crawling up to you like an animal on the prowl.

“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?” You asked, drawing out his torture just a little while longer.

“Yes please, need to feel your perfect cunt again.” He begged, looking down at you with his big brown eyes.

“Go ahead, but don’t cum until I say so.” You instructed, your hand finding the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on his hair. He moaned, positioning himself at your entrance before thrusting fully into you, his gaze locked on the way your breasts bounced with each desperate thrust into your warm cunt.

His pace remained steady, pounding into you, your pleasure slowly building but not quite hitting the spot you needed him to. You wrapped your legs around his hips, angling your hips up ever so slightly and you couldn’t help but cry out, his cock finally hitting the soft spot inside of you that you’d been craving. He dropped his head into your shoulder, bringing his hand to your pussy to rub firm swipes over your clit, clearly desperately trying to make you cum so he could.

“So close, I don’t know how much longer I can last.” He panted, hips faltering slightly.

“It’s okay baby, don’t stop.” You moaned, too close to care about being firm with him anymore after how good he’d been for you today.

His thrusts became increasingly desperate, driving into you at a pace that had you seeing stars, the combined pressure on your clit sending you over the edge in a blur of white hot ecstasy.

“Spencer!” You cried out, nails digging into his back as you rode out your orgasm, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.

His moans grew louder, hips stuttering and you could tell he was almost there, but something was holding him back.

“Cum inside me.”

Your request was all he needed to hear, not having to worry about pulling out anymore allowing all of his focus to finally come undone, hot ropes of cum filling your aching cunt. He pulled out of you, collapsing beside you with his head on your chest, long legs almost dangling off the side of the bed. You laid there spent, gently running your fingers through his hair until you both caught your breath.

“Thank you.” He spoke, lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“There's no need to thank me Spence, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. You were right about overworking, I’ll try to delegate a bit more.” You sighed.

“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself, you deserve to enjoy yourself more often.” He leaned up to pull you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist as you finally got a moment to relax for the first time in weeks.

——

Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star Part 1: Kiss Me at Coachella✨

Bodyguard! Joel Miller x singer fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I do not know what came over me, but this was heavily inspired after watching Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” Coachella performance. This one shot took over my whole Saturday and Sunday! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me with a title and the mood board and for being my beta! 🩷 This is both in Joel and reader’s POV. Comments and reblogs make my day. Enjoy, lovelies!

Summary: You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.

Word Count: 8.1k

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Fluff, flirting, pining, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, cute pet names, unprotected p in v, switching POVs, reader is a singer, Joel is a bodyguard, reader has long hair, large age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 44)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The warm sun glows against your glittering skin, the music pumping like sugary coffee running through your veins. The crowd chants along with you, singing every lyric you do while they hold their phones and snap videos while you twirl around to the rhythm of the upbeat song. You flash them big smiles, pose for the camera, sway your hips while your dancers match your cute little moves. You’re exhausted, almost done with your set at Coachella, but the flaming energy of the crowd keeps you going. 

   You spin around, pop your hip out and wave flirtatiously to Joel at the end of the stairs on the side stage. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself while he tries to act professional. That’s what bodyguards do, right? Stay professional? And he did, he really did, but you liked to tease him just a bit sometimes, get him all riled up if you could. 

   You see the smug smirk he tries to hide behind that patchy, greying scruff, watch the way those gorgeous honey flecked eyes scan your body. He can try to be coy all he wants, but you’ll call him on his bluff. The man is attracted to you, just like you are to him. But you can’t help it, he’s drop dead gorgeous. The way his grey threaded dark curls catch the sun rays, his ripped muscles cling to the flannels and tight t-shirts he wears on a daily basis, his corded veins spiral down his tanned arms, the way he towers over you every time he stands next to you, his deep Southern drawl that sends you into heat every time he graces you with that thick honey-like voice, and the way he’s so protective over you. But you also can’t forget that he's twice your age, which makes him even hotter. 

   You shouldn’t want it, want him, but you do. God, you do. At night when you’re in between your silky sheets with your fingers rubbing between your legs, you’re thinking of him. Those big, meaty hands, that rough tongue, his deep, gravelly voice that must sound so sweet filled with dirty words. You can’t help yourself, you want Joel Miller, your bodyguard. 

   He watches you strut the lit up stage, the sparkles on your pink dress catching the flecks of his wandering eyes. He thinks you look so gorgeous twirling around in that short tease of a dress. Every time you bend over or spin around, he can see those skimpy short shorts that barely cover the globes of your ass. You like the attention though, love to tease the crowd just like you’re teasing him now. 

   He sees the discrete winks you throw his way on the stage, the way you lick those plump, glossy lips that seem to call directly to him. You’re trying to get a reaction out of him. He knows you too well. You may be flirting with the starving crowd who begs for more, but you’re also flirting with him. And he can’t help but get drawn into those beautiful eyes of yours that glisten in the sunlight, can’t help the way his cock is straining against the zipper of his denim jeans right now, precum spilling over the tip thinking about thrusting between those pretty legs of yours. He wants you so fucking badly, and you have no idea.

   You twirl your curls flirtatiously around your finger, flipping your hair behind your shoulders while he watches from the corner of the stage, pretending like that’s his hand wrapped around your flowing locks. Another wink his way and he’s mush against the edge of the stage. Maybe you are trying to get a reaction out of him, you just love to tease him, but he loves it just the same. You’re nothing but a little troublemaker.

   He thinks about you all the time on those lonely nights on long tours, when he’s under his pristine sheets that graze against his hardening cock. He whispers your name under his breath when he’s stroking himself, pretending his hand is yours gliding over him, spreading precum with your soft hands, your pretty mouth. And when he cums he thinks of your glittering eyes, imagines you encouraging him on while he spills hot ropes of cum all over his soft tummy. 

   He may feel a little guilty after doing that, those dirty thoughts that swirl in his head night after night, but there’s no way in hell he feels bad about doing it. He’d have you every day if it was up to him. Oh, yes. He’d ravage your body till you had nothing left to give but your own breath that blows gently against his hungry lips. Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn’t. Either way he’s completely fucked. 

   The end of your routine is drawing close, the last number halfway over while the sun kisses your tanned skin. He knows you’re tired, can see it in the sweat that glistens like diamonds down your dainty arms. He’d go and scoop you up in his arms, let you wrap your own around his neck while he carried you to safety, away from prying vultures in the crowd, but he knows paparazzi would snap those pictures in a heartbeat and cause a scene in the tabloids. The pop princess and bodyguard have a scandalous affair at Coachella together. He scoffs at the thought. Fucking idiots starving for a shiny penny to add to their useless names. 

   The moment you sing your last line, you wave to the crowd and blow kisses to the rowdy audience. “Thank you, Coachella! See you next year!” They chant your name, begging for one more song, but your time is up. So you exit the stage all smiles with glitter falling to the ground, keeping your glow until you get to the edge of the stage. 

   Joel’s right there waiting for you, a water bottle and small towel in hand, just like he always does. He looks so good in his tight black t-shirt, sleeves pulling at his bulging biceps while his dark jeans hug his meaty thighs tightly. He always looks so good that you feel dizzy when he takes your hand and helps you down the stairs and off the buzzing stage. 

   Your breath catches in your throat when he closes his thick, calloused fingers over yours, his honey eyes bright and alert when he hands you the water bottle and dabs your sweaty forehead with the soft towel. You could melt into a puddle right here and now the way he’s looking at you all protective and warm-like. 

   “You really gave them a show today, darlin’,” he drawls as his dark flecks of warmth serenade you with attention.

   “Yeah, you think so?” 

   “Mhm,” he hums, staying attentive to you while he watches you take a sip of water. 

   “Did I give you a show, too?” you ask all flirtatiously, batting your long eyelashes up at him as you slide your tongue slowly over your glossy lips, licking off a droplet of water. 

   His cheeks grow red, eyebrows fusing together as he shakes his head and runs a large hand slowly through those messy curls you so want to run your own fingers through. “C’mon, trouble. Let’s jus’ get you back to the trailer.” He grabs your elbow and drags you through the winding backstage area, dodging cords and other performers that stand in your way.

   You follow next to him, quick to stay on his trail while fans scream from the right behind barricades when they see you. Joel pushes you to the left, lingering his large hands on you just a few seconds too long while he works to keep you safe. You know it’s his job, but it turns you on at the sight of him watching out for you, keeping a hand firmly on your arm, making sure no one else touches you but him. 

   Maybe it’s a lovesick fantasy, a fever dream that you and Joel could be more than this. More than just a bodyguard who’s just doing his job to watch out for you. You feel it, that sexual chemistry when you’re near each other, even in a large crowd that won’t stop screaming your name, demanding pictures and autographs while he pushes them away from your reach. You feel it in his heated stare, the brush of his calloused fingertips on your tanned skin, the devilish smirk he gives you when you tease him or say something you shouldn’t. You know he feels it, too. He has to. He’s just as delusional and lovesick as you. You see it in the glow of those amber eyes. He knows.

   “So, you have a free night tonight, huh?” you ask as you keep your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 

   “Sure, if you call keepin’ you out of trouble free time,” he chuckles, his brown eyes gazing back toward you, just enough to paint streaks of dark pink over your already blush caked cheeks. 

   “Me, trouble? Never,” you tease while you flash him a bright smile. 

   “Oh, you’re trouble alright. But you’re not the one I’m worried about. These Coachella fans can get pretty intense. I’d jus’ feel better if I was watchin’ out for you is all.”

   “You don’t want a night off though?”

   He looks back toward you and knits his eyebrows together, concern lathered all in those brown doe eyes of his. It makes you weak in the knees. “I’m alright. Besides, you’re not bad company to have.” He nudges you with his elbow and winks your way, completely knocking the breath from you. 

   Did Joel Miller just say you were good company? A quiet, reserved guy like him likes your company? The one that would rather grab a drink at the bar alone and sit in silence with a good book while no one bothers him? Guess you did have an affect on him afterall. 

   “Not bad company?” you giggle as you push against his shoulder. 

   “Not bad at all, darlin’. You’re jus’ the kind I need,” he says with a hidden smirk under that salt-and-pepper scruff you want to drag your fingers through. Yeah, you’re just what he needs.

   Suddenly, a screaming fan comes from your left, some psycho that escaped through the wrought iron fence who stomps your way. He charges over to you, calling your name as his spindly fingers close over your arm, his other hand clawing at your pink sparkly dress. “Let me take a picture, please! I love you, I drove hours just to see you sing. Please!”

   Joel rips the guy's hands off your body, pinning his hands behind his back against a caged off area while you fight to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest watching Joel being so protective, possessive over you while the fan begs for mercy against Joel’s tight grip. 

   “Keep your fuckin’ filthy hands off of her! She’s not a toy you can just grab and demand things from. She didn’t give you permission, didn’t ask for you to claw at her dress. So I suggest you walk back out to the general admission area and stay the fuck away from her. Understood?!” His voice sounds like crackling thunder, that deep rugged breath towering over the cowering fan as he makes red marks over the fan’s useless wrists. Joel was just doing his job, one he was damn good at. But he made it look so sexy. 

   You stare in amazement, blinking through your thick lashes while you watch Joel shove the crazed fan through the fence, warning him to keep his distance or else he’ll wish he never stepped foot into the music festival. You gawk at him, watching the way his muscles flex underneath his t-shirt, watching the scowl across his mouth darken his menacing eyes. He’s a dominant wolf protecting his pack, and his pack is you. 

   You watch his flared nostrils and harsh eyes soften when he turns and looks at you, one of his large hands coming to clasp around your wrist while he assesses your wide-eyed features. “You okay?”

   You nod your head slowly, keeping your gaze on him as he makes sure you’re alright. “Really, I’m fine, Joel. Thank you.”

   Before he can manage a reply back to you, blinding cameras start flashing before your eyes, paparazzi swarming you as they just assessed the scene. They throw questions at you, screaming your name while you try to drown out their echoing voices. 

   You stick like glue to Joel’s side, latching your arms around his strong torso while you hide your face in his t-shirt beneath his shoulder. Joel wraps a protective arm around your back and guides you to safety. 

   “Get back! She ain’t answerin’ questions right now, she jus’ got off the stage. Leave her alone!” His deep voice hounds them, barking strict orders for them to stay back. 

   You’re so thankful for Joel right now, your knight in shining armor steering you to safety. The blinding lights start to slowly fade away, the reaching hands and firm demands slipping away once you enter the safe vicinity of your tour trailer. 

   Joel unfolds you from his safe grasp, turns you around and places one hand gently under your chin as if to say it’s okay, baby girl. They’re gone. He scans your frightened eyes, but you melt into a relaxed state when he looks at you with those concerned honey eyes that swallow you whole. 

   “You sure you’re alright?” he asks with eyebrows furrowed together in a panicked state. 

   “I am now. Thanks for saving me. You’re my hero,” you smile as he lets out a sigh of relief and shakes his head. 

   “Jus’ doin’ my job, sweetheart. Can’t help it that everyone wants a piece of you. Gotta protect the shining star,” he winks, nearly sending you over the edge of the steps to your trailer. 

   “Well, you’re pretty great at your job, Miller. Best bodyguard ever,” you flirt as you poke him playfully in the chest. 

   “Alright, little pop star. Why don’t you go relax for a bit? I’ll be out here, be sure to fight off any more paparazzi parasites,” he smiles while he watches you twist the handle and enter your safe haven. 

   “Joel?” you call before you close the door. 

   “Hmm?” he asks as he twists around and faces you with gentle brown eyes. 

   “Go easy on them.”

   He just rolls his eyes and shakes his tousled curls off his sweaty forehead. “Sure thing, darlin’. Alright now, go on. Get in there,” he instructs as he nods to your room. 

   You huff out and slump your shoulders, pretending like it’s the biggest chore in the world. He ticks his jaw and raises an eyebrow at you that tells you he’s not messing around, so you fully oblige his request. “Alright, alright. I’m going,” you sigh. 

   “Attagirl,” he chuckles. 

   Your cheeks burn red as he leaves you with the hottest word before you close the door with a jolt. Attagirl. The word rushes through you, straight to your core where you feel a bit of slick build against your sticky lace. How can a man get you turned on with just one word? Well, it’s Joel Miller, and the man can make you wet with the wink of those pretty brown eyes, but Attagirl was next level. It was borderline porn to your ears. 

   When you hear the click of the door close you take a second to breathe, leaning up against the sealed door while you flick the lights on and try to calm your racing nerves. You assess your pristine room, taking in the white walls hung with pink fairy lights. The glow from your vanity mirror lights up the little corner where your sparkly makeup sits neatly together. The pink velvet sectional sits up against the middle of the wall where a picture of Marilyn Monroe hangs right above that. Soft pink colors cover the room, and you feel suddenly at ease in the protection of your trailer. 

   You meander toward the vanity mirror, assessing your perfect makeup that still stays intact on your glowing face. The sparkling pink eyeshadow mixes in with the sharp wings of black eyeliner that frames your soft eyes. Shimmery pink lip gloss coats your plump lips, and the blush stands out against your tanned skin. Your spiral curls flow gently over your shoulders, and your sparkly dress hugs all your curves in the right places. 

   You suddenly want to be free of your costume, wanting to throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. When you turn your back to the mirror and try to unzip your dress, it gets stuck just a couple inches from the top. 

   “Oh, come on. Work with me.” You fight the zipper again, tugging with all your might until you grit your teeth together and curse under your breath. This is not what you need right now. You want out of this dress, out of these high heels, out of these smothering tights. 

   You stomp your heel into the plush carpet, folding your arms across your cleavage as you decipher just what to do. Lacy, your assistant, is tied up in important meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near your little trailer. Your makeup artist is busy helping other performers, so you have no other options. Joel is the only one…

   You gulp, take a long look at your flushed cheeks just thinking of having Joel Miller unzip your dress. It’s harmless, really, but not if he’s doing it. That would only lead to one thing. Giving into pure desire, temptation, need. 

   “Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, “if a show is what he wants, then a show is what he’ll get.”

   You tiptoe to the door, hovering your hand over the handle as you take a deep breath and breathe in and out slowly. It’s just a zipper, only a zipper. He could always say no, leave you stranded while you’re stuck in your dress the entire evening. He wouldn’t do that though, leave you helpless while you fight to rip the tight dress off your body. He just wouldn’t allow that. No way. 

   You take one more deep breath and open the door slowly, slipping your head out as you see Joel standing at the bottom of your trailer steps. You clear your throat and watch him turn his head quickly in your direction, leaving his guard wide open as he assesses your distressed face. “Umm, Joel. Can you do me a favor?”

   His eyebrows knit together while his eyes glaze over your body. “What is it, darlin’?” His doe eyes lean into yours, and you can barely muster up any words while he looks at you like that, all caring and deep. 

   “Well, my zipper got stuck in the back, and I can’t get it down. Do you think you can help?” you ask shyly, your eyes looking up nervously through your long lashes. 

   “Uhh, where’s Lacy? I can go grab her, let her help ya out.”

   “No!” You reach out an arm and grab his wrist tightly, watching his brown eyes widen at your sudden contact on his tanned skin. 

   “No?” he asks confused, his breath picking up underneath his dark t-shirt. 

   “I mean, she’s in meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near the trailer. And I’m awfully uncomfortable in this tight dress. Do you think you can just come in really quick and help?”

   He gulps down a breath, his heartbeat picking up incredibly fast while he looks into your gorgeous eyes. How can he say no to that? He can’t, so he won’t. He rakes a hand slowly through his greying scruff and nods your way. 

   “‘Course I’ll help, sweetheart. C’mon then.” He places a hand gently on your lower back and leads you into the glowing lights of the trailer, letting the door close with a bang as he guides you to the middle of the room. 

   “Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he asks nicely as you oblige and turn your back toward him. 

   He looks at your undone zipper, sees where it’s stuck in the pink fabric of the dress. Of course he’d be the only one around to help you, of all things a fucking stuck zipper on you. He has no resistance when it comes to you, he just can’t say no to that pretty face of yours. 

   “Zipper’s jus’ caught in the fabric. Should just take a little tugging,” he says with gritted teeth, pulling on the zipper while he holds the silky fabric tight with his other hand. 

   After a few seconds of fighting the dress, he gets it free of the catching fabric. He slowly unzips the back of your sparkling dress, going ever so slowly as if not to make a single sound. The only sounds he hears are your quick breaths, the beating of his own racing heart, and the noise of tugging you free of the suffocating, tight dress. 

   He watches it stop at the end of your curvy hips, catching the way your skin seems to shimmer as your flawless skin comes into his line of vision. He sees the way the dress falls open in the back, your skin begging to be touched, to be stroked as it beckons him closer and closer until he’s hovering above your hot skin. 

   He knows he shouldn’t linger, shouldn’t hover over the glow of your exposed skin, but it’s almost sinful not to touch you when the glitter of your undertones calls directly to him. He gives in, stealing just a touch as he rubs his fingers slowly down your spine. 

   You squirm beneath his touch, tingling sensations running wildly down your skin with each touch he takes from you. You ravish in it, holding your breath while he takes his time dipping across the curve of your back. 

   He leans into you, ghosting his lips across your neckline while he breathes you in deep. He smells the vanilla scent of your perfume, lilac breezing through your soft curls, and can even smell the cherry flavor of your glittery lip gloss. You must taste so good, he can already feel your soft lips against his while he takes his other hand and moves your curls over the left side of your shoulder. 

   You turn your head back gradually, exposing the veins in your slender neck while it gives him access to dip his lips against the curve of your neck. “Joel,” you whisper out, your insides shaking as the hand on your back sinks down to the curve of your hip. 

   He can’t respond, too lost in your delicious scent while his hand dances against the silk of your tempting skin. He’s a bad man, putting himself in this vulnerable position where he’s alone with you, with your zipper completely down and your dress barely holding itself against your perfect body. 

   He should go back outside, stay away from your midnight eyes, your luscious locks, your sweet smelling perfume, but he can’t. He just can’t. He’d rather die than to leave you alone now, untouched, not taken care of. He’s your bodyguard, he’s paid to take care of you. So he will, in every way that he can. He’ll have his way with you. If your zipper can be fixed then who's to say that ache between your legs can’t, too? 

   He spins you around, your chest pressed flush against his while he slowly backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his strong arms while he breathes in your sweet vanilla scent that drives him wild. He sees the cleavage practically spilling from the top of your undone dress, wants to fucking rip it to shreds until there’s nothing left but your glowing skin under the tips of his pressing fingers. 

   He takes a hand and pushes back a strand of curls behind your ear, lingering his thick fingers along your jawline while you breathe in the woodsy mahogany smell, his expensive cologne that you could lather yourself in just to smell like him. He’s so close that he could lean down and press his lips to yours, so close that you could twist your fingers through those lush curls that you so desperately want to meld your fingers to. 

   You’ve never been this close to him before, to where you can see just how pretty and clear his brown flecked eyes are. You’re driving yourself into dangerous territory, but you don’t care. No one’s here to stop you from making any mistakes, and Joel is not a mistake.

   He hovers over you, dragging his lips against your jawline and stopping at the shell of your ear, lingering there while his meaty hands dig into the curve of your hips. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t,” he says with gritted teeth, painfully dragging out the words while he tickles the shell of your ear with his plush lips. 

   “Why not?” you whine pathetically as you place a hand under his shirt, making him jump while you graze over the happy trail that leads underneath his jeans. It makes a deep groan slip from his throat. 

   “I’m twice your age. You jus’ turned twenty-five, I’m pushing forty-five. I’m your bodyguard. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t give in to a pretty thing like you,” he murmurs as he feels his cock hardening beneath the denim of his jeans. 

   “I don’t care that you’re older or that you’re my bodyguard,” you mumble as your fingers tug the leather belt free from his jeans. 

   He groans, licking the edge of your ear while he fights to find an ounce of control in his desperate body. He finds none. “We shouldn’t, darlin’. It’d be irresponsible on my part. What if the paparazzi found out? They’d turn the headlines into a hell of a mess. Hell, your publicist would kill me,” he says defeatedly while his hands stay glued to your hips. 

   “I don’t care what my publicist says, I don’t care about the paparazzi. I know what I want, Joel. I know you want it, too. Just as much as I do.”

   He groans against you, doing his best to resist you, but he can’t. He’s a weak man for you, and he’ll give in with the snap of your fingers. He’s got no fight left in him, he’s all yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You want this? Want me?”

   You grip tighter to his jeans, dragging his hips flush against yours as you feel the swell of his cock through the denim. He’s so fucking big, and you haven’t even seen him yet. “Yes, Joel. Please. Want you, only you,” you stifle out a moan as his lips trail against your neck, gently nipping and sucking against your sensitive areas while his hands ghost over the curve of your breasts. 

   “God, I can’t say no to you, gorgeous. You don’t even know what you do to me every time I see you up on that stage, singin’ with that angelic voice of yours, dancin’ around all flirtatiously while you make me so fuckin’ hard beneath my jeans.”

   You groan at his filthy words, letting him spread your legs while one of his parts your legs wider. One hand trailing up your inner thigh while his other slowly pulls against the top of your pink dress. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this for so long, how much I’ve wanted to press my face between those thick thighs of yours,” he groans as he trails his lips against the cleavage of your dress. 

   “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted you to,” you pant out as he tugs at the hem of your dress. 

   “Yeah, s’that right?” he teases, dragging his teeth lower down your breasts. 

   “Mhm. Joel, fuck. Taste me, touch me, fuck me,” you beg as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

   “Fuck you, hmm? That what you want?” he teases while he slowly pulls your dress free, hearing it drop to the floor when all you’re left in is your shorts and tights. 

   “Yes, please. Want you, need you to touch me. Do it, Joel. Please,” you whine, twisting your fingers around the curls around the base of his neck.

   He chuckles out, sucking in a breath as he fully obliges your request. “Alright, pretty pop star. If that’s what you want, how can I say no to you?”

   He leaves you with no warning, cupping one breast in his large palm while he sucks on your other one, running his tongue in circles until your nipples are pebbled and swollen beneath his tongue, his mouth, his hands. He does the same to the other one, languidly sliding his tongue over the pebbled bud while he massages your breasts with his calloused fingers. 

   He bathes in your moans, making certain to get you all worked up where he knows you’re already soaking beneath your panties. That’s where he wants you wet, begging for him to touch you. 

   “Joel,” you whine, feeling his fingers fall free from your pebbled breasts. 

   “I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry, gonna take care of my girl.”

   Before you can speak, he cups your face and sinks his plush lips against the gloss of yours, melding his mouth to yours while he tastes the cherry flavor of your lip gloss. You part your lips for him, inviting him in as you feel him lick feverishly into your mouth. Your tongues dance together in unison, allowing him to tangle his with yours while he revels in your pretty moans against his hungry mouth. He’s starving for you, absolutely famished while he takes and takes from you, letting his tongue explore the entirety of your open mouth. If you taste this good, just think how absolutely divine you must be between your legs.

   His hands roam down to your shorts, slipping his fingers inside the waistband and tugging them free of your skin. You step out of your high heels, kick the pink shorts aside and allow his mouth to break free of yours. You pant tirelessly, watching him kneel between your legs as he starts to run his fingers up and down your thighs. 

   He looks up at you, his eyes becoming dark pits that consume him whole. He’s feral for you, and he won’t stop till he has every last drop from you. “You have another pair of these?” he asks, nodding to your tights. 

   “I’ve got a million pairs,” you say out of breath. 

   He smirks up at you before he tears into the flesh of your tights, ripping them to shreds while one of his large hands meets the lace of your panties. “What about these, hmm? Gonna miss these?”

   You shake your head, unable to get a word out as you swallow a whine in the back of your throat. “No?” he asks all deep and gravelly while his thumb traces against the edge of your lace, sliding down to put some pressure between your drenched lips. 

   You throw your head back and whine, begging him to continue on. “No, Joel. Just take them off, please. Need you,” you breathe out desperately. 

   “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He takes no time, ripping into the seam of your panties as you watch him split them in half, throwing them in a pile on the floor while his eyes blow wide when he takes in the bare sight of you. 

   He groans to himself, dragging a finger through your wet arousal, parting you in the middle as he hears the sloshing sounds come from his thumb spreading the wetness all across your dripping core. He inhales you, reveling in the pretty noises you make while he takes his time exploring you, gathering the slick on his calloused fingers as he burns the sight of your messy pussy in the back of his brain. 

   “Shit, baby. Already so fuckin’ wet for me. This what I do to you, hmm? You always this wet around me?”

   “Mhm,” you moan, feeling his fingers pull you apart as more slick pools between your thighs. 

   “All this for me, goddamn. Ain’t I jus’ the luckiest man alive.” He licks a thick stripe up your core, dragging his tongue to lap up the slick that spills from your insides, making you pant out with need as he makes you come undone. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna take real good care of this pretty pink pussy. Just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work.”

   He doesn’t even give you a chance to breathe, he just dives right in. He takes the flat of his tongue and strokes your folds, working you up and down while he soaks in the sweet taste of you. He hooks one of your pliant legs over his shoulder while you fight to not break already. 

   He drags his nose through the curls above your mound, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth while he breathes in the sensational musk of your pussy, drinking down your sticky arousal that makes his taste buds come to life. He’s never tasted a pussy this sweet before in his life, never quite experienced the high of such an intoxicating body before. He’s wanted you for so long now, and he never even imagined it’d be this good before. 

   “Joel,” you moan above him, wrapping your delicate fingers through his messy curls, driving out a deep groan from him by the way you cling to him. He loves the feel of you in his hair, pulling and tugging while you bite your lower lip and moan his name over and over again. It’s like an addictive drug he’s prescribed to, and he needs more, wants more of you. 

   He slips two digits into your drenched hole, filling you so full while his thick fingers curl and hit that spongy area that makes you see bright lights flash before your eyes. He revels in your moans, eliciting more with every touch and curl of his fingers, with every feverish lick to your messy center. 

   “Yeah? You like that, baby? Feel good?” Joel purrs while he watches you fall apart beneath his fingers. 

   “So good, Joel. Want you to - ahhh,” you whine as he pulls your aching bundle of nerves back into his warm mouth, releasing it with a pop as more slick covers his knuckles. 

   “Mmm, s’that right, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? C’mon baby girl, go on and soak me,” he purrs. 

   You feel the white hot sensation taking over, feel his long fingers curl up to hit that spot again and again while he pulls your aching clit back into his mouth. And it feels so fucking good that you just can’t hold on any longer. “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m coming,” you whine as you release your pent up energy, soaking his knuckles while he works you nice and slow, licking at your core as the slick builds on his tongue, drinking you down till he soothes that aching need in his throat. 

   You come down slowly, feeling your body go through the tingling sensations that make you feel so alive. You’ve never had it this good before, not before Joel. He’s going to be the end of your demise. 

   You look down at him between your legs, fingers still curled inside your core while he slowly drags them out of you with a groan from your lips. He pops the digits into his mouth, sucking the sweet release while he moans your name. He looks fucking wrecked, his hair all tousled and messy, wide eyes blown out to black pits that want to devour you whole. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s not done with you, and he’s not. Oh no, he’s just getting started. 

   “Such a good girl for me,” he purrs, sliding his calloused fingers up to your hips while he unhooks your leg from his shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Now, c’mere.”

   He throws you over his shoulder, a surprised gasp coming from your lips as he takes you over to the velvet couch. He drops you on your hands and knees, not giving you a moment to breathe while he situates himself behind you and spreads your legs wide. 

   He takes a few seconds to admire your glistening core, sitting back on his heels as he rakes a hand slowly over his greying scruff, taking in the absolute beauty that sits before him. He’s never seen a sight like this that he goes head over heels for, sliding his tongue between his teeth as he whispers how fucking perfect you are.

   He groans your name, dragging his thumb up and down your sticky folds while one hand spreads your cheeks wide. He says your name repeatedly, taking in the sight of you in front of him. He thinks you’re so fucking pretty, all messy and dripping just for him. He wants to just slip your scent, your taste into his own cologne, mix the two together until he can only smell you on his body. 

   He licks at your core, spreading you wide while he devours you whole. He pulls at your glistening clit, languidly circling the swollen bud that calls sinfully to him. He wants to give you all the orgasms, drink you down till you have nothing left to give, curl his fingers inside your heated core, work you over till the only thing you can say is his name through your pretty moans. 

   He thrives in the musk of you, the taste of your cherry lips, the sweet saltiness of your warm cum. If he could give it a name, he’d call you his special jasmine flower, known to be the sweetest, most fragrant flower in the world. That’s what you are to him. The rarest flower that ever came into his reach, his life. 

   He licks against your slick folds, working his fingers in and out of your delicious cunt, slurping on your sensitive mound while he drowns it in his own drool, lusting after you until you writhe beneath him and give him another mind blowing orgasm. 

   “Joel, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cry, spilling yourself all over his digits and inside his heated mouth. He can’t reply, too busy drinking you down as he groans good girl through the taste of you on his large tongue. 

   He swallows all the slick between your thighs, holding you up together while your legs shake uncontrollably. You may have fallen apart on his tongue twice, but he still wants more. He’s greedy like that when something belongs to him. You’re his as far as he’s concerned now, and he always takes care of what’s his. 

   “Joel, wanna… wanna…” you stutter tirelessly, out of breath from the insane orgasm he pulled from your body. 

   “What do ya need, sweetheart? Use your words,” he coaxes, placing a hand gently at the small of your back as he strokes small circles into the heat of your skin.

   “Your cock. Let me suck your cock, make you feel good, too,” you whine out, grinding your teeth together as he gently blows on your aching core. 

   “Not this time, baby. Later. Gotta take care of you first. This time I wanna have my way with you, want your cum dripping down my tongue, making my cock all messy from your sweet release. Wanna bottle you up and make you my own personal brand of whiskey,” he growls as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and frantically slides his jeans and boxers over his feet, disposing the sweaty material on the ground. 

   He hisses as he spreads the precum over his shaft, pumping himself a couple times before he grabs your hips and scoots you back, stifling a moan from your mouth as he plunges his massive cock into your throbbing pussy. 

   “Oh, shit. Joel,” you whine, filling the room with your sweet incantations while he fills you so full of him. 

   “Yeah? You like that, dirty girl? Takin’ this cock so good, squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, pulling your hair back as your head snaps up, his mouth meeting yours as he licks feverishly inside, swallowing your moans while he continues his frantic thrusts into your weeping pussy. 

   He pulls out from you, throwing you on your back while he hooks your legs over his shoulders, rutting back inside you as his cock gets covered in your sticky slick. You throw your arms around his neck while he finds your mouth again, licking inside, moaning your name on the tip of his tongue as he speeds up his thrusts inside you. 

   The sounds are obscene, the wet smacking noises of his hard cock drilling inside your drenched pussy reverberating off the glow of the pristine walls. He releases his mouth from yours, leaning back to take in the gorgeous view that’s you. You’re splayed all over the couch, your perky breasts bouncing up and down with every thrust of his cock, your eyes all glossed over and fucked out while he takes you nice and slow. He thinks you’re a vision, a full on masterpiece that deserves to be displayed in an art gallery, your mouth making that pretty O shape while you chant his name angelically. 

   “Know you’re close, baby. Squeezin’ me so tight, feels so good,” he moans through the grit of his teeth. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna… fuck,” you whine as you feel that all too familiar white hot sensation rush through your entire body. 

   “Oh yeah, baby. That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ girl. Go on now, soak this cock,” he coaxes. 

   He watches you fall apart beneath him, beautiful, glossy eyes rolling back as you drag your manicured nails down his back, giving him the prettiest moans as you clench around him and release your cum all down his quivering cock. 

   “Good girl,” he praises, talking you through your intense orgasm as he quickens the strokes inside you, reaching heights you never could without him, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. It feels so fucking good, and you just gave him the best three orgasms of your life. You’re exhausted, but you need him to finish. You need him inside you. 

   Sweat drips off his forehead, ending in his tousled curls as he bares his teeth, barely able to hold on any longer. “Baby, I’m about to cum. I can’t hold on much longer. Where do you want me, sweetheart? Where do you want me to spill?”

   “Inside Joel, paint me white inside. Cum inside my pussy, please,” you beg. 

   He moans as he calls your name, giving you a couple more thrusts before he paints the insides of your thighs white with hot ropes of cum, throwing his head back as he revels in the ecstasy of filling you up with his seed, claiming you as his own. 

   He pulls out and twists you around, collapsing on his back against the velvet couch while you fall into his chest, his meaty hands holding you tight around the waist while you both come down from your intense orgasmic high. The room smells like sex and sweat, hints of vanilla and cherry flavored lips lingering around the room. It smells like heaven, Joel’s heaven. 

   Through the sounds of rushed breaths and tired bodies, he reaches up and hooks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingers against your jawline while he assesses the beautiful starlights in your eyes. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and now you’re all his. 

   You look at him just the same, memorizing the flecks of dark honey that make up his bright eyes, dragging your fingertips through his salt-and-pepper scruff, letting your other hand glide through his messy tousled curls. He may be your bodyguard who works for you, but now he’s so much more than that. He’s yours, and you’ll never let him go now. 

   “Still think this was a bad idea?” you ask with a raised brow, challenging him to say anything but yes. 

   “Too late for asking me that, sweetheart. I changed my mind. You’re jus’ what I needed,” he smiles, the flecks of his eyes shimmering amber as your own eyes sparkle with bliss. 

   “Glad you came around,” you giggle as he drags his fingers up and down your jawline softly. 

   “All ‘cause of a fuckin’ broken zipper. You know I can’t stop now, sweetheart? One taste of you and now I’m hooked. Afraid I can’t let you go now.”

   You lean into his chest, giving him your best dreamy smile as you trace the ends of a tousled greying curl. “Then don’t. Be mine, Joel.”

   “I’m all yours, sweetheart. All yours,” he whispers before he cups your face and brings your head down, meeting the plush of his lips as he kisses you nice and slow. 

   You melt into him, parting your lips so he can slot his way in, tangling his tongue with yours as you taste yourself in his mouth. You stay like that for minutes, getting lost in his soft touch, his musk, his dreamy eyes. You never want to leave this trailer, never want to be parted from Joel. The only question is, how will you ever be able to keep your hands off him in public? 

   You lean your head into the crevice of his neck, nestling up to his soft scruff that smells like him. You sigh and tangle your fingers with his while he holds you close to his side. “Guess we won’t see any more performances tonight?” 

   “I don’t know, baby,” he chuckles underneath you. “Think we need a shower and some food. Maybe take you for round two afterwards. But it’s up to you. We can either stay here or go watch more of the sets tonight. Whatever you want.”

   You think it over, but ultimately decide on his first offer. “Mmm, I think I’ll go with the first pick. Rather be here with you, in your arms, where it feels right.”

   He sighs, lingering a soft kiss on your cheek as he pushes back a falling curl. “Okay, beautiful. That’s what we’ll do then. You want pepperoni pizza? That’s your favorite, right?”

   “Mhm,” you nod. “Sounds perfect.”

   He chuckles, the chocolate flecks glistening in his pretty eyes. He looks so dreamy, almost unreal that he's underneath you, his skin glowing from the sight of you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart. Can’t believe this is actually happening.”

   “I feel the same, Joel. Thought you might’ve caught on sooner with all the flirting I’ve been doing, especially up on stage. I might love getting a crowd pumped up, but there’s nothing more I love than making you blush at the side of the stage.”

   He tips his head back and laughs, his voice all deep and gravelly as he flicks his eyes back to you. “Oh, I caught on, darlin’. Figured you were tryin’ to get a reaction out of me, and you did. Now look at us,” he teases, cupping your chin with the palm of his large hand, causing tingles to run down your spine. 

   “Yeah, just look at us. A pop star and a bodyguard getting off on each other. Thought it’d only happen in my dreams,” you sigh, propping yourself up with your elbow on his sweat covered broad chest. 

   “Well, baby, it’s real. It happened. Reckon you’re mine now, yeah?”

   Your eyes perk up, a huge smile glistening across your shiny lips as you nod your head. “I’m all yours, Joel. As long as you’ll have me.”

   “Baby, I ain’t ever gonna let you go now. You’re all mine, and I’m gonna spend my days protectin’ and lovin’ this pretty pop star. That’s what you are, baby. You’re my shining star.”

   “And you’re my knight in shining bodyguard,” you giggle. 

   “Mhm, sure am, doll. And I don’t plan on ever lettin’ you go.”

   You fold back into his chest, pressing your lips hungrily against his. Eventually he carries you to the shower, helps wash off all the sweat and slick from earlier, until he takes you to your bed and makes love to you all over again. And it continues throughout the whole night, until both of you are passed out in each other's arms. 

   This is where you belong, in the arms of your fierce protector, your handsome bodyguard that you’re head over heels for. Your favorite brown eyed keeper. 

Tags: @laramc-02 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @burntheedges @vivian-pascal

@littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @msjarvis @akah565 @milla-frenchy

@aurorawritestoescape @alltheirdamn

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[artbyblastweave]

I've started Oblivion, and playing it basically blind to everything but the broad outline of the main story has been fantastic, because holy hell is this thing hitting the "put that guy in situations" button in a manner Skyrim only occasionally gestured at. I drop 10 gold on a room at a novelty inn set up in a refurbished permanently docked boat (escaped from jail and saw the emperor get assassinated three hours ago) (Need to level up before beginning my arduous journey to find his heir, can't do that without a bed, have been selling dead rats for money and this stupid boat was specifically called out as the cheapest option in the city) and wake up to find the entire thing's been hijacked and sailed out to sea, because the dipshit proprietor deliberately started a rumor that there was hidden treasure on his boat to attract business from adventurers and brigands, only to make a surprised Pikachu face when he attracts adventurers and brigands. I try to bluff my way through the first two guys by claiming I was a late hire to their group. They both believe me and immediately try to kill me to keep the payout a four-way split. I tell the third guy I killed the first two guys and he immediately tries to kill me to make the three-way split a two-way split. Four homicides and change later and we're back in dock at the Imperial City. What was any of that about. The Hero of Kvatch is not a man in control of his own life in any way shape or form and I like it that way

[ariestrxsh]

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, sneaking around, risky, oral, teasing, degradation, humiliation, edging, orgasm denial, shower sex, creampie, roughdom!matt, brattamer!matt, bratty!reader, enemies to lovers

📝 author's note: 📝 this is part of a series, and here are parts one, two, and three. it's not necessary to read the other parts, but it makes the story better and adds to the dynamic between the characters. 💖 there will be more parts to this.

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You and Matt continue sneaking around right under his brothers' noses despite the fact that the two of you hate each other.

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

hatef--k part four

I threw my clothes and my vibrator into my big tote bag, along with a phone charger and some snacks from my pantry. I was still in shock that Matt had seen me packing my favorite sex toy and then relentlessly teased me with it. And the bastard didn't even let me cum.

I angrily stomped to his car and resentfully got into it. I could feel every bump as we drove over it, every vibration from the way the tires hit the pavement beneath us, and it was pure torture as I sat there, unfinished.

"You know, I should tell Nick your water is back on, and you lied to him," Matt broke the silence, clicking his tongue at me and shaking his head. "You won't," I called his bluff. "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" He narrowed his eyes. "Because you love it when I prance around your house half-naked and tease you until you can't take it anymore. You want me to stay with you guys longer," I told him, reading him like a book. He didn't say anything, but he shot a smile that confirmed my suspicion. All doms are the same. Most of their threats that don't benefit them are empty.

We pulled into the driveway, and as we walked into the house, Matt shut the door in my face again. I rolled my eyes, stopping it with my hand. I set my tote bag down next to the couch in the living room, and when Matt and I stepped into the kitchen, we were greeted by Chris who was home attempting to make pancakes, but instead of flipping them with a spatula, he was flipping them into the air and trying to catch them in the frying pan. "Chris! You're making breakfast for four people. We don't have pancakes to waste," Nick scolded him, pointing the spatula at him.

"Good to see you guys survived the night alone together. I thought, for sure, based on how pissed Matt was about you staying here, he was gonna choke you out or something," Chris joked, cracking open an egg into a bowl. "Yeah, he tried, but he was too much of a bitch to finish the job," I smirked at Matt.

"Do either of you want coffee?" Nick offered, holding up a french press. "Yes, please," Matt and I both responded in unison, but we both shot each other a glare, resenting the other for answering the same way. Nick poured us each a cup of coffee, and we all fixed our plates and sat around the kitchen table together. "You guys really are the nice ones. Thank you so much for making breakfast for us," I said. It was a compliment to Nick and Chris, but even more than that, it was a slight towards Matt. I was still very angry about the sex toy incident.

"Of course. Anytime. You're our guest," Nick replied. "So what did you guys do last night when you had the house to yourselves?" Chris said before taking a bite of his hashbrowns. Matt and I shot each other a glance. "I watched The Bachelorette," I told them, taking a sip of my coffee. "And I played video games in my room," Matt said without looking up from his food. "You mean, you guys sat on opposite sides of the house.. and ignored each other?" Nick questioned, looking skeptically at us. "I find that hard to believe because any time you two are in the same vicinity, you pick on each other," Nick said with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, well when I went to shower.." I started to say, but then I stopped myself. Matt delivered a swift kick under the table and hit me in the shin. "Oh, just for that, I'm telling them," I looked towards Matt and then I turned to his brothers, "Matt thought it would be funny to take my towel amd hide it while I was showering." I took a sip of my coffee and looked back over at Matt, who was looking at me like he wanted to kill me. Please punish me for that one later, I silently begged him with my eyes.

"Matt! What the fuck?" Nick asked with a look of disgust. "Bro, that's weird," Chris shook his head. I secretly liked embarrassing Matt in front of his brothers and getting them both on my side. It was as harmless as Matt taking my towel and my clothes, right? "It's fine. He gave it right back to me," I told them, smiling and taking a bite of my eggs.

We continued to eat our breakfast, and once we were done, Chris volunteered Matt and me to clean up since he and Nick made breakfast. I was happy to oblige, considering the boys were being so kind and letting me stay with them, and Matt begrudgingly agreed. "Plus, it'll give you guys more alone time together, so you can hopefully overcome your differences," Nick chuckled. Little did he know, the only time Matt and I could ever overcome our differences was long enough to fuck each other's brains out. Chris and Nick both headed upstairs, leaving Matt and me in the kitchen by ourselves.

Matt immediately backed me up against the counter and got into my face. "You like making me look like a fucking perv in front of my brothers, huh?" He growled quietly next to my ear, while he started to take his hand and press it against my mound. "You are a perv," I shot back. "Yeah, but you fucking love it," Matt gruffly said, applying more pressure. I could feel the edge of the counter digging into my back as Matt fondled me. I could feel myself growing weak.

"Let's get these off of you, you little whore," Matt grumbled while he started to pull down my pants. I was still wet from the vibrator incident earlier. He picked me up by my waist and set me on the counter. I felt the cold, hard granite underneath me as he placed me. He looked up intently into my eyes as he got down onto his knees, wrapped his strong arms around my thighs, and held them apart further.

I watched in anticipation as he flattened his tongue and started tickling my clit with it. I tried to seem like I wasn't dying for it, but I couldn't keep my equanimity. My moans got away from me with every stroke of his remarkable tongue. His soft lips engulfed me, and he hummed against my favorite nerve endings while I watched his eyes roll back as he savored my taste. I secretly loved the way he ate pussy, like he wanted it, like he needed it. "Mmmm. You're such a naughty girl. You're loving this, aren't you?" He said, his lips vibrating against my sex. "Not as much as you," I joked. He started to gently nibble on my clit, and I started tugging on his hair. My legs locked around his head as he worked wonders with his mouth below my waist.

"You like it when I eat you while my brothers are upstairs? They could come down any minute and catch us," he muffled against my pussy. All I could do was nod and bite my lip as I tried to suppress the sounds I so desperately wanted to let loose. "Slut. I bet if Nick and Chris walked down here right now and saw what we were doing, you'd squirt all over my tongue, wouldn't you, used up little whore," he smirked. And he was right. The idea of being caught was enticing. I felt like I was at the edge of more than just the countertop, but before I could enjoy the sensation and fully sink into it, Matt was pulling away.

"No, no, no," I whined, gripping his locks of hair. "Please don't do this to me again," I begged him, chasing the feeling of his tongue, desperate for sweet release. He looked up at me, taunting me. "Not after you were such a bad girl for tattling on me to Nick and Chris," he grinned menacingly. His mouth glistened from nearly devouring me. "I'll do anything," I pleaded. "Yeah, anything but behave," he scolded me, bringing himself to his feet and wiping his face.

"You can finish cleaning the kitchen. I'm gonna go play video games," he replied, handing me back my pants. "The fuck I am. You're not gonna help me clean?" I angrily shot back. "No, and if you tell Nick or Chris that I didn't help you, I'll make sure they accidentally stumble upon your vibrator while you're here," Matt sneered. "Fuck you, asshole," I said under my breath as Matt was walking away. He immediately turned back around and brutally grabbed me by the neck. "Keep going and I won't let you cum tonight either," he snarled.

"And clean your pussy juice off the counter. People cook there," he said to me as he released me from his intense grip and disappeared out of the room. I quickly put my underwear and pants back on and finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen.

"So, how was cleaning the kitchen with Matt? Did you guys bond?" Nick sat down on the couch next to me several hours later while I was curled up scrolling on my phone. "Yeah, something like that," I blankly answered. "What's wrong? I can tell something is up with you," Nick replied. Oh, you know, Nick, your brother just keeps edging me and then ruining my climax. That's what's wrong. But of course, I couldn't say that, so I settled for a dramatic sigh and instead said, "You know, I'm just getting impatient with this whole water situation. You guys are really great for letting me stay here. I just can't help but feel like I'm intruding on your space."

"We want you here, silly. Even if your water weren't out, we'd probably still be hanging out with you," Nick reassured me. And it made me feel bad about lying in the first place. We sat next to eachother, laughing at memes until the sun started to set.

"It's getting late. I'm gonna start getting ready for bed," I relayed to Nick. We stood up and hugged each other. I thanked him again for his kindness, and he thanked me for my company. "By the way, I'm sleeping down here on the couch tonight. You can have my bed again," Nick offered. I couldn't let him. Not when I knew I'd be sneaking into Matt's room and falling asleep next to him anyway. "Nick, you're too sweet. But really, I think we should make Matt sleep down here and I can take his bed. Payback for him being a dick last night," I gave Nick a really sincere face. "That's a great idea actually," Nick's face lit up. "Don't worry, I'll tell him," I smiled.

I made my way to the bathroom with my towel, my clothes, and my vibrator. I started running the shower and once the water was hot enough to get in, I stood beneath the stream of warmth, vibrator in hand. Overcome by the incredible feeling of finally releasing pressure that had build up all day, I didn't even hear Matt come in until he was pulling back the curtain. My eyes shot open and I scrambled to shut off my toy.

"Awh. Trying to finish without me?" Matt chuckled, standing in front of me completely naked. "What are you doing?" I whispered to Matt, covering myself with the shower curtain. Bastard ruined my orgasm again. "I came to shower with you," he smiled. He got in and immediately pushed me up against the shower wall. "I think I've been keeping you waiting long enough," he gruffed into my ear as he propped my left leg onto the side of the tub.

He lined up his hardening cock with my entrance and inserted it in a brutal manner. I let out a small yelp as I felt him start violently bucking his hips. "Take my cock, you little whore," he rasped while my walls stretched around him. He grabbed onto my hair and yanked it hard while his cock grew to its full potential.

"Hey, sorry to bother you while you're showering, but did you see Matt anywhere before you got in?" Nick asked poking his head in through the bathroom door. "No, I didn't," I responded, biting my lip to hold back another satisfied sound and trying not to blow our little secret behind the shower curtain. "Have you noticed he's been acting strange lately?" Nick pondered out loud while Matt pounded into me from behind. "Stranger than normal? Kid's a freak," I snarked, and Matt started to fuck me harder for the jab I made at him to Nick, and he held his hand over my mouth to shut me up.

"Yeah, I've noticed he's been kind of distant from Chris and me, and he's been even meaner to you than normal. I just worry he may be going through something," Nick responded sounding worried. Oh, he's going through something alright, I thought to myself as Matt bottomed out in me, thrusting against my gspot with incredible force.

"If you see him, will you let him know I'm looking for him?" Nick asked, but while Nick said this Matt was whispering into my ear quietly enough for only me to hear, "Cum on my cock, you naughty fucking whore," while he released his hand from my mouth so I could respond to Nick. "Yes, Matt," I slipped up. My eyes widened when I realized my error. "Did you just call me Matt?" Nick inquired, chuckling. "Sorry, Nick. I mispoke," I held myself together long enough to correct my mistake.

Just then, Matt reached up and covered my mouth with his palm again, grabbing me even more roughly than before while we came in tandem, both our orgasms tearing through us silently. My eyes rolled back, and it took everything in my power to not scream Matt's name while I throbbed around him. Matt's cock twitched, depositing his seed inside of me while Nick stood in the doorway telling me to enjoy my shower and giving me shit for calling him the wrong name. When we heard the door shut and Nick leave, Matt chuckled and said, "You're so hot for finishing on my cock while Nick was in the room. You're such a naughty girl."

"You're hot for making me wait so long for that. By the way, Nick and I talked about it. I'm taking your room tonight. Have fun sleeping on the couch," you smirked back at him breathlessly while the two of you finished your shower.

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @ribread03 @slutforsturnioloss @thepubeburgler @schlutt4matty @valkatriee @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @witchofthehour @alexisxena

part five posted here 💖

[zablife]

hello, i have a request for benny where he introduces his girl to the vandals for the first time.

one of them is already a good friend of her, but he didn’t know the person she was seeing was benny (and maybe benny gets a bit possessive)

Ty for the request, lovely! It's my first for The Bikeriders so I couldn't wait to dive in. I used your idea plus the GIF above as inspo to create drama, plus a little heat with our fave man. I hope you enjoy it and let me know your thoughts!

Rumors

18+ MDNI

Warnings: language, possessiveness, semi public sex

A/N: If you haven't seen the film, it might help to know: 1-Johnny doesn't like to share Benny and 2-Cal's first language is French.

"Heard a little somethin' about your girl you might want to know," Johnny rasped, allowing his words to dissipate into the air on a lungful of smoke.

Benny signaled his interest by leaning forward slightly in his chair, brow furrowed as he thought of anything about you that would warrant a private conversation with the leader of the Vandals. All he could think of at that moment was how eager he'd been to show you off to the guys, an obvious note of pride swelling in his chest each time he uttered your name.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he finally asked, "Yeah, what's that?" Though he had tried to hide his concern behind a facade of cool detachment, the slight twitch of his hand when he raised his cigarette to his lips gave him away.

If it had been a game of poker, Johnny could have recognized the bluff from a mile away. He bit back a sly grin, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he chose his next words for maximum damage.

"Let's just say she ain't no stranger here," he hinted, eyeing Benny carefully to gauge the effect it had on the impulsive young man. Watching Benny's fists clench at his sides, he swiftly added, "Especially not to Cal."

As if on cue, Benny's blue eyes flashed with an ominous darkness. "What are you talkin' about?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

Hissing in Benny's ear like a venomous serpent, Johnny advised, "Don't let her make a fool out of ya. That's all I'm sayin."

Benny's shoulders began to stiffen tightly beneath his leather jacket and Johnny clapped him on the back before abandoning him to his rapidly spiraling jealousy.

You could practically feel the floor shake with the stomp of his boots before you heard the low rumble of his voice calling your name. The tenderness he'd affected an hour ago was gone, replaced by a gruffness which commanded you, "C'mon, baby."

You stared at him wild eyed, wondering what had gotten into him. "N-now? We just got here," you stuttered.

He nodded, taking you firmly by the hand and you decided not argue while his rings pressed into your flesh.

As his friends hooted and whistled, you exited the bar out into the warm summer night. The relative quiet of the street amplified Benny's voice as he asked, "When were you gonna tell me?"

Stumbling off the front step together, he brought you face to face with him, sapphire eyes gleaming with fire. However, you immediately sensed a note of hurt in his accusation.

"Tell you what?" you begged, still uncertain what had him so worked up.

"About you and Cal," he prodded, watching a flash of recognition pass over your face in damning confirmation.

"Don't try to deny it," he warned, dropping your arm to pace the darkened alley beside the bar. Running his hands through his hair in distress, he'd clearly begun thinking the worst when you remained silent.

You struggled to recall who else knew about your acquaintance with Cal, then suddenly you understood, a long sigh pushing from your lungs as you recalled what Kathy had told you about Johnny's dislike of girlfriends hanging around. He said nagging wives took the guys away from the club when the crack ups and late nights began to threaten their relationships. You closed your eyes and shook your head, realizing he’d probably been the one to upset Benny.

"Say somethin'...please," Benny begged, waiting for you to open your eyes to him.

You twisted your fingers in front of you as you finally confessed, "Yeah, I know Cal." Watching Benny hang his head at your admission, you clarified, "Well...I knew the scrawny kid who took English lessons with me a few years ago. I barely recognize him now with that wild hair and that earring." You huffed out a quiet laugh at the thought of it, stopping Benny's nervous movements as he listened to the angelic sound.

He splayed a palm against the cool brick, glancing over his shoulder at you hopefully.

You nodded at him confirming,"That's all it ever was, baby." His chest heaved a sigh of relief as you came to stand at his side. Ducking under his strong arm, you ran a hand down the side of his scruffy cheek and brought his gaze back to you. "I'm yours, Benny. Nobody else's, you understand?"

A low growl rumbled from his lips as he pressed you against the wall, lips seeking yours for the physical reassurance he so badly needed.

His mouth moved against yours insistently, desperate for more and your hands flew to his hair, tugging in wanton desire. As your breasts pushed against his chest, he couldn't help deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue and before either of you could contain it, passion overtook you.

Benny turned you to face the wall and raised your skirt over your ass, tugging your underwear aside eager to claim you. Your breath hitched as you heard the jingle of his belt and you quickly braced yourself against the wall for what was to come. Without a care for who might disturb you, he took you right there, hips pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

"Tell me one more time, sweetheart," he urged breathlessly, sucking a dark bruise into your neck that would become irrefutable proof.

"I'm-I'm yours...I belong...belong to you, Ben--," you panted through little shocks of pleasure, unable to continue as you came hard around him.

"S right," he agreed, biting down on your shoulder to stifle his own groans of pleasure. Giving into your vice like grip, he tumbled over the edge with you, heartbeat hammering against your back in exhaustion.

You reached for him in the darkness, clutching the back of his head to keep him close. He stayed inside you for a long, tender moment afterward, placing scattered kisses behind your ear. You might have stayed that way longer if not for your ticklishness and exposed location. So with a hiss, he begrudgingly withdrew from you and gently lowered your skirt.

In the afterglow, Benny smiled at you with a cockeyed grin, tucking himself inside his jeans. The dewy flush of your cheeks making his heart skip a beat, he leaned in for one last kiss as you heard the door to the bar open and release the sounds of boisterous laughter.

Several bikers emerged, Johnny leading the way to the row of choppers parked at the curb. As he strutted toward his bike, a haphazard glance was thrown your way before doing a double take.

You weren't sure if you should scream at him or thank him for the rumor he'd attempted to spread about you and Cal, seeing how it had actually brought you closer to Benny.

When your boyfriend wrapped an arm around your waist, placing a kiss to the top of your head, you decided it wasn't worth arguing about. With a smirk and a little wave, you forced Johnny to acknowledge you, making it clear you weren't leaving Benny's side anytime soon.

[crystallinestars]

This was inspired by a conversation I had with an Aventurine AI. If Aventurine seems a bit OOC, I apologize. I wrote this all in one go while sleep-deprived.

Aventurine lays his head on your lap and you pet his hair and give him kisses. That’s pretty much it.

Contains: Established relationship, lots of fluff, and self-indulgence.

After returning from Penacony, Aventurine asked you to play a game of cards with him. He said he missed you and wanted to spend some quality time over a casual game.

Of course, Aventurine wouldn’t be Aventurine if a bet wasn’t involved.

“If I win, you have to give me a kiss,” he said while keeping his violet eyes trained on your face, a cat-like smile tugging at his lips. Without looking, he placed a card on the table and then waited for your move.

“A kiss?” you parrot, a bit surprised that Aventurine chose a rather simple bet this time. Usually, he liked to ask you out on long dates or get you to wear designer-brand clothing he picked out specially for you. A kiss seemed suspiciously simple by comparison.

“Yes, just a kiss. On the lips, of course,” he smirked and pointed at his lips for emphasis. “But what do you want if you win?”

You hesitated to answer, a bit self-conscious about what Aventurine would think of your request. Whether because you’ve missed him, or because the dark bags under his eyes hinted at Aventurine’s exhaustion, you just wanted to take care of him by doing something nice.

“If I win, I want you to lay your head on my lap and let me pet your hair,” you finally say, voice tinged with embarrassment.

The cat-like grin fell from Aventurine’s lips as he stared at you in wide-eyed surprise, before bursting out laughing.

“That’s the most adorable bet I’ve ever heard!” he grinned, his tired eyes lighting up with amusement. “It almost makes me want to throw the game so I can spend the evening being pampered by you.”

Your cheeks flushed from embarrassment and annoyance as Aventurine laughed at your choice for a bet. Your intentions were pure and genuine, so it hurt a little that he laughed at it.

Seeing the annoyed glare you sent his way, Aventurine quickly quieted down and tried to do damage control. “I admit, I quite like your idea. Whether I win and get a kiss, or lose and get pampered, both scenarios are a win-win in my books,” he said, his gaze warm.

“…Would you really throw the game just for some pampering?” you asked, looking at him with poorly disguised curiosity.

Aventurine only chuckled in response and leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of confidence.

“I’ll play seriously, of course. I still want that kiss, you know,” he replied with a smirk. “Let’s play and see who luck favors more.’”

The game of cards continued. While it wasn’t your first time playing with Aventurine, you sported a hefty 100% losing streak against him. The chances of that changing now were slim, you figured.

However, luck seemed to be on your side this time. You amassed some good cards, and even managed to push through tough plays where you were on the verge of losing. The game progressed unusually smoothly, and before you knew it, victory was in your hands.

“Ah, looks like I lost. Lady Luck was on your side today,” Aventurine sighed. Though he sounded disappointed, the smug smile painted across his face hinted at the opposite.

“You let me win, didn’t you?” you stated and crossed your arms, not buying his little act.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aventurine casually brushed your accusation aside as he stood from the table. “Well then, as the losing party, I must fulfill my end of the bargain,” he drawled, giving you an expectant look.

You wanted to retort and call him out on his bluff some more but thought better of it. It truly had been a while since you saw Aventurine, and you were looking forward to doing something nice for him, even if it meant accepting a rigged victory.

Conceding to his expectant gaze, you led Aventurine over to a nearby sofa and took a seat on one side. You patted your lap, and Aventurine needed no further invitation to lay across the sofa with his head resting on your thighs.

He let out a quiet purr when your fingers carded through his blond locks, gently threading through the strands. Aventurine’s hair was soft and silky—all thanks to the expensive hair products he used.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured, looking up at you with a playful glint in his eye. “It feels quite nice to be pampered like this.”

“Sure, I could do this for you every day,” you quip back, playing along.

“Really? I’ll hold you to your word, then,” Aventurine chuckled.

“It will cost you, of course.”

“Ah, you drive a hard bargain.”

The playful banter between you continued for a while longer until it petered off into a peaceful silence. Your fingers never paused in their gentle and slow strokes through his hair, and you saw Aventurine gradually relax under your touch. The weight of Aventurine’s head grew heavier in your lap as he relaxed and lowered his guard. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, basking in the tranquil moment.

The dark bags under his eyes were proof that Aventurine had not been sleeping well lately, which made you worry a bit. Your tender touches seemed to do the trick, however. Aventurine’s breathing deepened and slowed, while his expression softened into something more vulnerable and innocent as he succumbed to sleep. It was an expression you seldom witnessed, but one you knew was proof of Aventurine’s trust in you.

The sight of Aventurine so vulnerable and relaxed was simply too cute for you to resist. Overcome with a surge of affection, you tenderly brushed his bangs out of his face, before slowly leaning down and touching your lips to his in a feather-light kiss.

The blond tensed under you, and you pulled back slightly only to be met with an even more adorable sight. Aventurine looked up at you with surprise, his cheeks flushed a rosy, red hue. You had caught him unaware with that kiss and were now privy to a rare sight of him acting flustered.

You did your best to stifle the laugh that threatened to bubble out, but a snort still made it through. Aventurine’s momentary surprise turned into a sullen pout at your obvious attempts not to laugh at him.

“Sorry, you were just—so cute, you know? I couldn’t hold back—” you stammered, trying and failing to completely reign in your laughter.

Aventurine’s expression melted into something softer as he reached an arm up, placing his palm on the back of your head.

“I’m cute? The cute one here is you,” he murmured, voice almost a whisper as if he were saying it to himself. It didn’t sound like his usual playful flirting. This time, his tone was serious.

Stunned, you fall quiet and look down at the blond. Despite his serious expression, it still held a note of vulnerability and sincerity that you only saw during private moments with him.

The hand behind your head applied gentle pressure, a silent request for you to come closer to his face. However, there was no force behind it. If you wanted to, you could easily pull away and reject his wordless plea, and Aventurine would let you go. He always did.

This time, you felt like indulging him, so you complied and lowered your head until your faces were mere inches apart.

Your eyes met.

“If you want to fulfill my bet, then that kiss wasn’t nearly enough. But you’re welcome to try again, darling,” he said, voice breathy and soft. In classic Aventurine fashion, he left the decision up to you. He clearly wanted more, but he was still too hesitant to ask outright for it.

“All right. I’ll try as many times as you want until you’re satisfied,” you whisper back, before leaning in and closing the distance between your lips.

This kiss was firm yet sweet, and the first in a series of tender kisses that will leave their mark across Aventurine’s face.

Perhaps one day he’ll be comfortable with asking for what he wants from you without resorting to games of chance. For now, you will pamper your tired boyfriend and give him the affection he so desperately craves, even if it means giving him a hundred kisses every day.

[yoursweetwife]

You entered my sinful life, just don’t leave

warning: female reader, soft Aventurine, Aventurine is called Kakavasha, fluff, kissing, mention of Topaz, slightly suggestive at the end. bad english

P.s I wrote this fanfic before the official art from Hoyo appeared, after that I left it in drafts, since too many stories about this started to appear. Anyway, this is just a cute story before this wonderful man's banner comes out :D

My requests are open!

Aventurine was in no hurry to open his eyes when he woke up. He continued to lie on the large bed, wrapped in soft sheets and enjoying the rays of the sun warming his pale skin.

Out of habit, his right hand ran along the now empty side of the bed. He shivered slightly because of the cold, as if this place had been empty for a long time. Aventurine frowned and gripped the sheets tightly, suddenly a wave of doubt washed over the young man. Was this a dream? However, he calmed down when he heard quiet footsteps approaching the place where he lay.

He tried to hide the smile that threatened to appear on his face when a warm palm touched his cheek. Thin fingers first ran along the skin at the base of the hair, removing yellow strands from the face, then slowly went down along the cheekbone, nose, eyelids, lips…

"I know you're awake, Kakavasha."

A soft voice brought Aventurine out of his sleepy state. Disappointment quickly gave way to a feeling of warmth in my soul. He liked it so much when you called him by his real name, it made him understand that in this terrible unfair world there is a person who cares about him.

Aventurine covered your hand with his own, not allowing you to remove it, and smiled maliciously.

"I wonder how I gave myself away?"

The quiet laugh that left your mouth blessed the player's ears. You adjusted Aventurine's shirt on your body. In his house, this is practically your only clothing, even if you have a lot of your own things here, considering that you often spend the night with him. But by the way the blond stares at you, especially after a shower, you can understand that he loves it when you do this.

"The smile on your whole face gave you away. Shouldn't a poker player be able to not show emotions?"

Aventurine chuckled cheerfully. As a person who intrigues with his incomprehensible behavior, he really cannot control himself around his lover.

“It’s hard not to smile knowing that I got this treasure.”

Aventurine ran his hand over your collarbone, a slight shiver running through your body as his cold fingers touched your soft skin. His long fingers rested on a necklace of aventurine, his birthstone. This is exactly what he gave you in the third year of friendship, it’s surprising that you kept it for so long.

"You're making me blush again. Better get up before I call Topaz."

It was funny to see how Aventurine's face turned sour at the mention of Topaz. Unfortunately, your threats were not a bluff. Angry Topaz is not the most pleasant company, especially in the morning. The blond threw his head back on the pillow and sighed offendedly.

"Okay, okay. I'll get up, but only after the kiss."

You sighed in annoyance and lightly hit his bare chest. It's so hard to say no to those puppy dog ​​eyes.

"Just one kiss."

You ignored the blonde's happy sigh and began to slowly lean towards his face. Your soft lips touched him and Aventurine could not stop the satisfied smile spreading across his face.

He gently cupped your cheek with his palm to deepen the kiss, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, Aventurine pouring all the love and passion even into such innocent kisses. You pulled away from his lips. A quiet chuckle escaped your lips as the player reached for your lips with a pitiful moan.

"Satisfied?"

"Mmm no."

Suddenly, Aventurine grabbed you by the waist and threw you onto the soft sheets. With a loud squeal, your head landed on the soft pillow, Aventurine's strong arms pinning your arms to the sides of your head, preventing you from escaping. A smug smirk appeared on his face at the sight of your red face.

"K-Kakavasha, you're a liar, I can't believe I fell for it again."

Aventurina laughed quietly and brought his face closer to yours, without looking away from your beautiful eyes.

“And you will fall into this trap more than once, sweetie. We both know that you cannot refuse me.”

His left hand moved closer to your face to brush away stray strands. Your heart beat loudly against your chest; not everyone can see his gentle expression on his face. This showed the trust that Kakavasha had in you.

You chuckled and completely relaxed your body.

"I don't think anything will happen if we're a couple of hours late."

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.14

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Ch. Notes: Angst, action, gun violence, character death

Summary: Things quickly escalate as Fisk tries to end the struggle for power once abd for all.

An: ... So it's been a minute. Sorry about that and frankly idk when the next update will be, hopefully sooner. However, whatever you thinks going to happen here, I don't think you'll see this coming.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wilson Fisk didn’t often smile. He was a sad and angry man that did his best to keep a neutral scowl on his face. What was there to smile about when he had lost everything. His wife, his daughter, his freedom, all irreplaceable. Being in prison while his wife and daughter were being buried is an ache that will never truly get over.

The void inside of him can only be filled by power and control. He will have the city and he will claim it for all that he has lost. He knew that to be a irrefutable fact.

Now, his smile was something straight out of a nightmare. It sat lopsided on his round face. It was there and it was horrifying. His smile only widens as he heard hushed voice over his phone.

When the line goes dead, he claps his hands together. He leans back in his desk chair. The smile doesn’t leave his features.

“Sleeping beauty has opened his eyes.”

Plans change at a wits notice, and things pivot, but goals could still be accomplished. Fisk wants Dragos gone and like a shark surrounding an injured surfer he smells blood in the water. It is time for him to strike.

Bowling was the activity that you came up with. Something in a place full of people, something that you enjoyed much in your youth, something that Pietro was unequivocally skilled at.

“Another strike ladies are you even trying?” Pietro gloats after looking at the scoreboard.

You might’ve been putting in a decent amount of effort, Wanda as well, but the two of you could tell Natasha was handing the man the win.

“Natasha, maybe take him down a peg,” you whisper in her ear.

“I thought we were supposed to be cheering him up, lisichka,” she taunts you with a smile.

“He can be happy without his ego being stroked,” Wanda puffs out in annoyance.

Natasha laughs at their bitterness, but nonetheless when it was her turn she quickly bowled a strike.

“Let’s go Natty,” you clap for her and Wanda let’s out a whistle.

“Is this where I realize you've been letting me win all night,” Pietro pouts.

Nat plops her hand on his shoulder, “I’m afraid so."

You all share a laugh and for moment everything feels normal. You could almost forget your ties and affiliations and feel like normal people. The moments were becoming more present in your life to the domestic nature of your relationship with Wanda and Natasha.

By now you should’ve known that sitting in any of those feelings did you no good.

When your phone rings you answer it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n you will get through this. Do not let this be the end of what we’ve worked for, you don’t- you don’t need me malysh.”

“Papa? You’re awake, what are you you-”

“Y/N! Listen please, just take care of our family. I called you because, I trust you.”

As he speaks on the phone you gather Wanda, Pietro, and Natasha urgently. You have to go, it’s urgent. They can tell you’re shaken and when you put the phone on speaker they understand.

“Papa I don’t understand,” your voice trembles as you speak.

“Tell Flora, that my love with her doesn’t end with my last breath. Tell my Pietro that he’s the heart of all of this. Tell Wanda that all I want from her is for her to be happy.”

Natasha is the one that ushers you all into the car as you begin to shut down slightly.

“You can’t do this to us again papa,” your voice cracks in the end.

“It’s out of my hands,” you can hear fear in his voice and it terrifies you.

You hear a dark chuckle in the background of the call, “He’s right you know, it’s not in his hands.”

The smile in Fisk’s voice is present and it scares you, but you bluff the man.

“Haven’t you already made this play before, and it didn't work out for you did it?”

“Only because you interfered, and I got you back pretty significantly for that didn't I, sweetheart?”

Your jaw clenches, “Fisk , take a moment to think, really think what you're about to do. We are already enemies, in competition for control of the city, but that’s just business. Every move you’ve made recently has been personal. Going to war over turf it’s respectable, but if we go to war over family, there’s only one way this ends.”

“This is why I enjoy you so much kid, you have such an intelligent mind. Even under pressure you string together the right words. However, you’ve got it all wrong. There’s always only been one way this is going to end,” you hear the sound of the gun clicking.

“We will leave the city, just don't shoot him,” Pietro finds his voice.

You, Wanda, and Natasha look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I didn't know we had guests on the phone with us, what a surprise. Keep talking little Maximoff, I like what you're offering.”

Pietro begins spewing nonsense, “We will disappear from New York and never come back. We will cut all ties with city and anything in it. It will be yours for the taking. Please, just don’t shoot him.”

“Anyone else want to beg for his life?”

Wanda’s mouth opens and closes a few times as her eyes water. You take the initiative instead.

“Wilson, you lost your family. Your wife and daughter were taken from you. Good people caught in the crossfire of your criminal actions. Who helped you get back on your feet after you got out of jail ? Who kept a corner of New York for you? Who gave you a jump start on your way back to this lifestyle? Who was there for you? The history between the two of you isn’t as convoluted as you’re making it out to be.”

Kingpin takes a pause, “That’s in the past.”

“It’s only history because you are making it that way. We have made a good relationship between our businesses until recently,” you keep him on the phone.

Natasha’s only about 5 minutes from the hospital, you just need to stall a bit longer.

“I’m not a beggar or a dog, Y/Ln. I don’t take scraps,” he says in a menacing tone.

You pause when he says your last name. It’s not something you hear regularly, you don’t ever use it. How’d he know about it?

“Quiet now Y/Ln, surprised I know that name? That’s not the only thing I know about you sweetheart. I know something that the Maximoff’s have been hiding from you, something that might sway your loyalty."

You look at Wanda and Pietro who were already on edge, but worse than that, they avoid your gaze.

“This is my family, my loyalty won’t ever change,” you speak strongly.

He chuckles, “Not even when I tell you they killed your mother.”

“What?”

“They killed your mother. Ever wonder, why she didn’t come after you, why she didn’t bombard or harass you after you left? She was dead within a week. Your father was debriefed, and relocated shortly after your graduation. These people sweetheart, before your family, they’re the mob.”

You’re in front of the hospital now, but you don’t move to exit the car. It feels like something has pierced through your heart.

You want to say something to combat him, to say it doesn’t matter, but you couldn’t say that earnestly.

You push your feelings aside for a second, “We’ve both lost a lot, Fisk. Things that we can’t get back. Things that fuel us to want more than what the world has offered us.”

“We’re alike in that way sweetheart, robbed of a happy ending. Forced to create our own,” he’s trying to flip you but you aren't buying it.

“Losing another parental figure in my life isn't a happy ending for me,” you grit your teeth.

Natasha pulls you out of the car and starts giving hand signal directions.

“I sympathize with you, Y/n. You’re not one of them, you never were. I’ll tell you what, the Maximoff’s leave, but you stay and work for me. That’s my offer.”

“We aren't leaving without Y/n,” Wanda finds her words for the first time in the conversation.

“It’s either that or I put a bullet in his head. You’ve got 15 minutes to think it over, when I call back you better have an answer,” he hangs up.

“Y/n,” Pietro starts, but you don't look at him.

“We’ve got 15 minutes to save Dragos, that's what I'm focused on,” you dismiss his attempt at an explanation.

Natasha begins laying out a plan, “ We don’t know who in this building reports to Fisk, so we have to be careful if we go in. Dragos is supposed to have security at his door, I don't think the guards there would be ours if Fisk is in the room.”

“We need a deliberate distraction,” you open the car door and reach into your bag.

You bring out your laptop and hook your phone to it. You knew what room Dragos was in with Fisk’s call you should be able to ping how many devices were around him.

“3 guards, outside the rooms. These are the phone numbers, names, home addresses, close family,” you memorize the information.

You see a group walking into the hospital and figure its your best chance to blend in, “We’ve got to go now.”

Wanda and Natasha hold frustration about the way you’re moving, but they follow you nonetheless.

“We don’t have a plan for this,” Wanda argues.

“Blend in get to the floor they’re on and then I’ll handle the guards. Once they’re dealt with Natasha will go in and disarm Fisk,” you say straying from the group you walked in with to another group heading for the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator you speak to Natasha, “Send people to these addresses make sure they get pictures, the quickest means please.”

When you step off the elevator you spot the guards. You send them individual text messages, with their names addresses and a threat to their loved ones by name.

You see 2 of 3 panic while the other one believes it’s a bluff. Natasha sends the pictures of their homes to you, and you forward them to the guards.

You see them pale instantly, the look at each other and bicker lightly. Wanda wants to go forward and strike, but you shake your head. You wait as one of the guards takes off running from the room. The other follows not even a second after. The third looks at his phone and then in the direction the others had ran before doing the same as they did.

“Natasha, we’ll be on the other side of the door one steady knock when he’s disarmed so we can get in,” you instruct her.

She doesn’t hesitate to nod at your orders. Before she goes Wanda squeezes her hand in a pleading manner, but Natasha reassures her with a soft look.

You wait with baited breath when Natasha enters the room. For a moment it’s silent, no struggle can be heard, but then there’s a gunshot.

Wanda’s the first one rushing to the room door, with Pietro and yourself directly behind her. Her hand is on the handle as she attempts to yank the door open. You move her out of the way, and open it first.

Instead of a cool metal, you feel a searing hot metal burning your chest.

“Why don’t you all file in, so we can talk,” Kingpin rests the gun on your chest and you shuffle into the room, eyes shooting across to where Natasha grips her bloody arm.

Wanda and Pietro shuffle in, the red head immediately going to her wife’s side.

“Isn’t this a lovely little family affair?”

“Wilson, take the gun off of her. Your problem is with me, my family, they’ve done nothing wrong,” Dragos tries to reason with the man.

He digs the butt of the recently fired gun further into your chest and you grit your teeth, but refuse to break eye contact with the bald man.

“She is your strongest solider Dragos, she can take it. Y/n’s not even your blood, she’s your orphan project and you’ve raised her better than your incompetent children. She’s quick witted, brilliant, useful. I want her on my side,” Fisk eyes you with a shark like grin on his face.

“You’re out numbered,” Pietro reminds the man as he stands tall in room.

Fisk scoffs, “ Bed ridden patient, shot Russian, and girl with her gun to her chest. You and your sister aren’t enough to stop me, you could barely even run the business when I took your father out. None of the Maximoff’s have been running anything as of late. It’s all been Y/n, even before Wanda came back. She’s been the brains of this whole operation for a while now.”

“If you feel that way, then why would you go after Dragos first and not me?”

Fisk chuckles, “This information isn't something I've always known. I only had this epiphany a small time before I had an example made out of you.”

“I’ll never work for you,” you stand your ground.

“Then I’ll drop you where you stand and then I'll kill everyone in this room and own this cit-”

The gun was in your hand before he finished the sentence. You place it under his chin before cocking it back.

“Do it, kill me then sweetheart. This wouldn’t be your first time killing someone who just wanted to help you right? Poor little Lucas, didn’t even get the chance to grow up.”

You pull the trigger and instantly your face is covered in the mans blood. No one in the room saw it coming. You were usually better at not acting irrationally, but this time you had met your limit.

The gun drops from your hand and you rush out of the hospital without a single clue to where you were going.

“Go, someone go after her,” Dragos yells at his children and soon Wanda is on her feet.

“I will take care of it go,” Natasha reassures her.

Wanda’s eyes linger on her wife’s injured arm, “Wanda now.”

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

[munson-blurbs]

Happy Saturday! If you’re still taking requests for the 2k celebration, could I request Eddie/mall/lingerie? And happy 2k followers, definitely well deserved!

It's the return of perv!best friend!Eddie, y'all. Hold on tight.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, pet names, public sex (no one around tho), barely any foreplay because I'm lazy, friends to lovers

WC: 1.6k

--

Shopping with Eddie is like pulling teeth. First, you have to convince him to actually come to the mall with you. Then you have to continually bribe with treats from the food court just to keep him from driving off without you. Today, he’s snacking on a giant cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne’s and slurping on a root beer.

“Remind me why I need to be here again?” he whines as you compare two denim miniskirts that look identical to him, but apparently, you can spot a difference. He takes another bite of pretzel and sighs indignantly.

“Because,” you explain, exasperation evident in your tone, “I need a man’s opinion on what to wear for my date tonight, and you’re the closest thing I have.” You laugh as he playfully shoves you. “And I needed a ride, so…”

“So, basically, you’re just using me for my male gaze and my car, huh?” he asks, running a hand over a neatly folded pile of shirts on display.

“Pretty much.” you chirp, putting both skirts back on the rack. “Ugh, this is hopeless! I’m never gonna find something.” You blow out a big breath, puffing your cheeks. “One more store and then we can go home, I promise.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but dutifully follows behind you, taking the opportunity to check out the way your shorts perfectly hug your ass. He feels a twitch in his pants as your hips sway back and forth, and he wills himself to look away.

Unfortunately, in his pursuit to keep himself from popping a boner in the middle of the Starcourt Mall, his gaze lands on the entrance to a lingerie boutique. The mannequin out in front is adorned with a red lace teddy that leaves nothing to the imagination. His eyes dart back to you, and all he can think about is you wearing it. But not for your date with whatever schmuck you’re going out with tonight; no, Eddie wants you to wear it for him. In his bed, straddling his waist, grinding on his–

“Shit,” he mutters. He thinks his voice is low enough to keep you from hearing, but he cringes as you swivel around to see what the problem is, catching him trying to discreetly adjust himself over his jeans.

“You okay–oh,” you giggle, taking notice of his predicament. “Careful, Casanova; y’might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.” You put your forearm on his shoulder and rest your chin on top of it, making him tense up even more. “Who are you picturing in that? Chrissy Cunningham? Tammy Thompson?” Before he can answer, you press on. “Ooh, or maybe a supermodel, like Cindy Crawford or Iman? C’mon, who is it?”

“What if I was picturing you?” Eddie tries to play off his words teasingly, but the raw lust blowing out his pupils gives him away. 

Biting your lower lip, you can taste the gloss you’d applied earlier. Every time Eddie jokes with you like this, pretending he wants you, it kills you inside. “Do you think I should try it on?” You look at him innocently, batting your eyelashes as you call his bluff. “Y’know, for Kyle tonight?”

At the mention of your date’s name, Eddie shrugs your arm off of him. “No,” he growls, hooking a ringed finger through your belt loop, “want you to try it on for me.” There’s no hiding his hardness now, and you can feel his heart beating faster as he draws closer to you. He swallows thickly, waiting for your response. 

You’re too stunned to speak. Eddie has always been a flirt, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, but he’s your best friend. There’s no way he seriously wants to see you in lingerie, right?

“O-Okay,” you manage, turning towards the store. Eddie intertwines his pinky with yours as though ensuring he won’t lose sight of you. You find the teddy in your size and bring it into the dressing room. To Eddie’s dismay, you yank the velvet curtain closed. He tilts his head slightly, trying to find a gap wide enough to get a glimpse of you changing. He can just imagine you shimmying out of your clothes and into the sheer lingerie. 

Fuck it. 

Careful not to expose you to a customer passing by, Eddie slips into the room, resting his hands on your waist as you examine yourself in the mirror. The lace clings to your body, hugging your curves in all the right ways. You can feel his hard length pressed up against the back of your naked thigh. 

“Eddie,” you breathe out, trying to ignore the fluttering below your belly, “what are you doing?”

“Tell me something, princess,” he says, purposefully ignoring your question, “I pictured you putting this on, but who did you picture taking it off?” He waits for what seems like an eternity, silently praying that Kyle’s name doesn’t pass through your lips.

You turn to face him, letting his strong hands fall below the curve of your ass. “You, Eddie. Always you.” As soon as you give your answer, Eddie’s mouth crashes onto yours. He brings one palm to cup your cheek while he kisses you hungrily, moaning lightly with each flicker of his tongue against yours. He guides you to the wall, palming your breasts through the minimal covering.

Eddie nudges his knee between your thighs, brushing against your sensitive sex, and you moan involuntarily. “Oh, baby,” he coos, chuckling at your reaction to his touch, “so needy, aren’t we? I bet you’re already soaking wet. Almost pathetic how desperate you are f’me, huh?” You want to fire back with a witty retort about how he was the one who wanted you in lingerie; he barged into the dressing room while you were changing, but you can’t string words together to form a sentence. Instead, you nod dumbly, making him laugh again. “Don’t worry; I’ll tell you a little secret.” He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about your sexy little body in one of these. Not even the first time today, actually.” 

With that, your fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it as deftly as you can, and tug his pants and boxers down his thighs. His throbbing cock thwacks against his torso, leaving a pre-cum stain on his shirt. He hisses at the sudden relief, using his own fluids as lube to pump himself. You start to get onto your knees, but he stops you.

“If you put your mouth on me, ‘m never gonna last,” he warns with a smirk. “That’ll be for next time, yeah?” The promise of a next time excites you even more, and you allow him to hoist you up against the wall, pushing aside the lace as he runs his cock along your slick folds. “Y’ready?” His eyes are wide; though he wants nothing more than to be inside you, but only if you want to. When you nod, his smile exposes his soft dimples. “Thas’ my girl.” 

My girl my girl my girl. The words swirl through your brain as Eddie pushes his mushroom tip into you. The stretch is a mixture of pleasure and pain, melting into only the former as he slowly ruts up into you, allowing you to take a bit more of him each time.

Eddie’s never had sex this good before. You dig your fingernails into his back as your pussy clenches around him; he feels himself growing even harder inside you. He grabs the plush of your ass as he quickens his pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.

“Goddamn,” he groans, nearly whimpering as you tug on his hair. “Your body was meant for me, baby. Takin’ me so well, like you were made for my cock.” 

“I was m-made for you,” you echo, feeling your body tremble with delight. “Eddie, Eddie, oh, fuck, Eddie!” You lean your head back, exposing your throat and giving him the perfect angle to suck a bruise just above your collarbone.

Eddie chants your name, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he leaves more hickeys. “Can’t hold back much longer,” he confesses, trailing his tongue over the fresh set of love bites, but he keeps the same rhythm that’s driving you wild. “Wanna get my princess off before I do, though.”

“K-Keep going until you c-cum, please,” you beg him, “just like that.” You bring your middle finger down to your clit, rubbing deliberate circles until you feel your orgasm wash over you. “Yes, Eddie. I’m cumming, cumming for you…feel s’good.”

Bucking his hips harder and chasing his release, Eddie is a panting mess. “Shit–gonna cum, gonna cum in-inside you, fuck.” His hot seed coats your walls as he cries out your name one last time. He gently pulls out of you, leaving cum dripping down your leg while you struggle to regain your balance.

“Looks like we ruined it,” he offers, motioning to the lingerie. There’s tears along the crotch where he roughly moved the fabric, and the mixture of your releases is starting to leave a stain. He tears off the price tag and crumples it, tossing it to the floor. “Put your clothes on over it, hmm? It’ll be our little secret.” He pauses, giving you a mischievous smirk. “Unless you wanna tell Kyle tonight?”

You shake your head. “No. No Kyle. Only you.” Honestly, you’d forgotten all about your date until Eddie just reminded you. “Gonna cancel so we can do…that again.” And hopefully again and again and again.

Eddie throws his arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, “now that I’ve got you, we’re not stopping until that little number is completely destroyed.”

--

[winterrrnight]

always? always.

PAIRING: frat!rafe cameron x gn!ex bsf!reader

SUMMARY: you and rafe were best friends, but you parted ways in high school for reasons unknown. but what happens when you get a text from him, asking you to come over?

WARNINGS: abuse, ward being a shitty dad, swearing, bruises, cuts, blood, hurt/comfort. it talks explicitly about physical and emotional abuse!

EDITH SPEAKS: so. this is actually one of my works for my 300 followers celly and it was requested by @bejeweledreverie, but I accidentally posted their request without any actual content in it 🥲 so anyways, Annie, I hope you enjoy reading! <3

I got a little carried away, and usually I don't write themes like this, I think it turned out pretty good! Let me know any thoughts you may have 💞 this is set right in the beginning of S1!

PROMPT REQUESTED: "you came." "you called."

300 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation

This is strange. This is never supposed to happen. Rafe Cameron, out of all the people, has texted you if you can come over if you aren’t busy.

Where is this coming from?

You stare at the text for minutes, trying to figure out maybe there’s something which will show you this is all just a bluff. But it seems genuine. Really genuine.

And that’s what is concerning you.

You have known Rafe since basically forever, and you were close when you were little. But something happened in high school, something which you still haven’t figured out exactly what it is, that he basically refuses to do anything but detest you. You’ve tried to understand what it is; tried your level best to separate each strand of the situation to figure what exactly did you do that made him act this way. But you returned with no luck, and the best thing you could do was accept it, and move on from it.

As you think more and more about the text, the more it bothers you. It tugs on your heartstrings and you start to feel concerned for him. Fuck it, you whisper to yourself and get up from your bed to go to him.

As you’re driving to his place, you turn the situation over and over in your head. Maybe it is a prank, maybe it’s just some practical joke.

Or maybe, just maybe, he actually does need your help.

Even though the last one seems the one which has the least probability to happen, yet you’re on your way, as if you’re still his best friend.

You park your car right outside Tannyhill and make your way to its porch. You take a deep breath, trying your level best to calm down your nerves, and then you ring the bell.

The moment swells as you wait for someone to open the door for you, the only thing audible in your ears being your own heartbeat. Finally the door opens, and Rafe is standing right opposite you, in a condition that makes you gasp.

His nose is bloody and there’s a deep cut on his right cheek. Sweat and sticky tears shine on his face, and he’s almost trembling when he’s standing, holding the door open for you.

“Rafe?” You mumble softly, your breathing erratic and your eyes wide as you try to comprehend the situation at hand. Rafe Cameron texted you to come over, and when you do, you see he’s beat up.

Rafe isn’t one to back up from a fight and you know that. If a fight breaks out at school, you know, no matter what, the other person is going to be the one left with bruises all over them. Not Rafe.

It’s never Rafe.

But right now, he’s almost on the verge of breaking down, all covered in blood, and you know exactly who’s the cause of it.

Ward.

It’s been happening since you’ve known him. Ward has never been satisfied with him. He has always had a sense of control over Rafe that gives him a superiority complex and makes him think he can do whatever his heart desires.

And that’s what made Rafe so cold.

So cold from love, and touch.

But with you, he used to be relaxed. You were just kids, but you’d be comforting him, letting him know he’s okay.

But when your separation happened, you never knew how he’s been doing, but never also asked him, because Rafe never really responded well to you.

But now that he’s asked you to come, after not being close for years, you know this is something huge.

Rafe is avoiding all sorts of eye contact with you, his gaze drifting to his shoes. You are still standing at the porch, your eyes desperately trying to find his.

“You came,” he softly mumbles, his gaze fixated at the floor.

“You called,” you breathe out.

His eyes train up to yours, blue eyes – which aren’t icy how you usually see them, but soft and full of hurt. Your heart almost breaks seeing him in this condition.

He silently steps aside to make way for you. You enter inside Tannyhill, and you realize you haven't been in here in the last few years except for occasionally at a party Rafe has thrown which your friend has dragged you to. You had almost forgotten the hugeness of the mansion, and how silent it feels when there’s not many people in it.

Rafe walks ahead of you and climbs up his stairs and up to his room. You silently follow him, even though your mind remembers all the paths like the back of your hand.

Rafe reaches his room and he grips onto the door knob, and you notice his knuckles are bloody too; definitely from punching something a little too hard. You peel your gaze away from him, the blood and the bruises making you a little uncomfortable.

Rafe opens the door and you both walk inside. The room is completely disheveled; the pillows thrown around, the duvet all wrinkly and messed up, a cluttered desk, and the worst: a hole in the wall. You’re quick to connect the dots when you realize the hole and his bleeding knuckles are connected.

Rafe is now sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands and his fingers are pulling on his hair strands. You sigh at the sight and sit next to him, a small distance between you two. Rafe has never been one to like physical touch, so you’re careful to not touch him in any way, when your heart is breaking at the sight and all you want to do is softly caress his back.

He looks up from his hand towards you. “I’m sorry for calling you at such a short notice,” he mumbles. “I- I didn’t have anyone else to call,”

You shake your head at him, a sympathetic look in your eyes. “It’s okay Rafe. What happened?”

He breaks your eye contact and looks at the floor, his gaze not wavering. His forehead is creased from stress, and you can see his chest heaving as he’s taking deep breaths.

“It’s getting worse,” he whispers so faintly, the words get lost in the air around you. “So much worse,”

“Where is he right now?” you softly ask.

“Cameron Development,” he sniffs. “It’s just, I can’t fight back. When it's him, I can never fight back. I feel like a little boy, completely lost and vulnerable. He plays with my feelings. One day he’s telling me he’s proud of me, and the next? Hitting me like I’m some toy,” he whispers. “I’m, I’m done with this shit.” He looks up at you, his eyes boring into yours. “And you’re the only one who knows about it,”

You intake a sharp breath at his words, them striking a chord in you. You have never known what to exactly do in these situations, all you do is help him calm down, listen to what he has to say, clean up his wounds, and ask him to just hope for it all to end. But it's been years. It hasn’t ended yet. Why will it ever end any time soon?

You feel your own eyes pricked by tears, but you try your best to not let them fall. Rafe is so good at hiding his true feelings behind a carefully curated façade, no one ever suspects him to be going through so much shit.

“Apparently I need to get my shit together,” he chuckles dryly, when you both know there is nothing humorous about this situation. “Because if I don’t, I’ll be a shitty heir to the family business. I won’t deserve it,”

“Rafe, I know for a fact you won’t be a shitty heir. You’ll be good, heck, you’ll be great,” you say. “I have so much faith in you. That’s just how Ward is. I don’t want you listening to him, okay? He’s fucked in the head. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.” You get up from his bed and stand in front of him, letting out your hand for him. “Come on, I’ll clean you up, yeah? All that blood and stuff,”

He only nods at your words and takes your hand, and he gets up. You walk to his bathroom where he has a first aid kit kept. Rafe sits on the sink and you stand in front of him, the first aid kit in your hand.

You firstly take a wet towel to clean the dried up blood from his face. You rub it gently over his face, cleaning all the blood and sweat off him.

His breathing starts to slow, and his muscles start to visibly relax as he’s letting you carefully patch him up. You can see his eyes are fluttered close, the creases in his forehead now completely absent, and he looks relaxed.

“Listen…” You mumble softly, as you're preparing a cotton pad with some antiseptic on top of it. “You don’t have long left before you can move out, yeah? It’s all almost done. You’re almost done with it.” You smile gently, as you very carefully start to dab the cotton pad on his bruises. “You’ve been so strong all your life, and now, it’s almost done. You’ll live far away from Ward, where he can’t say anything to you, yeah?”

He winces a little as the antiseptic burns him, but he doesn’t push you away. He stays fixed in his seat, his eyes closed, as he hears your words and lets you treat him.

A silence falls around you both as you start to put the band aids where they are needed. You take a step back to look if you’ve covered him okay, and it looks like you have.

“All done,” You smile, screwing the cap of the antiseptic back and keeping it in the box. Rafe opens his eyes, a soft look taking over his features as he watches you clean everything up and set it all aside.

“I’m, I’m sorry…” he whispers quietly. You look at him with a confused expression on your face.

“What for?” You mutter, not really knowing where he’s coming from.

“For pushing you away, I didn’t want to do that. It was the shittiest thing I’ve ever done. You’re the only one who understands me, who listens to me. Everyone just thinks I’m this privileged boy with a shit ton of money,” he shakes his head. “But you, you’ve seen it all through it. And I don’t think I can ever be this way with anyone else.”

You sigh at him, his words starting to sink in me. “I just want to know why you pushed me away.” You whisper. “We were best friends, Rafe,”

“I- I hated seeing you hanging out with the Pogues,” he mutters quietly. “I didn’t like losing you to them.”

You think hard about what he’s saying, and you realize he’s right. When you started at a new high school, it was overwhelming to say the very least. Pope was one of your study buddies in your class, and through him you met the rest of his friend group. To say they were living their life to the fullest is an understatement. They were enjoying every single moment of it.

“I know they live on the edge, they like doing adventurous things, and you’ve always seeked adventure just like that,” he continues, “it just hurts so much seeing you get with them. We parted ways, and the only thing I thought I could’ve done was to hate you. And, now that I think about it, I was just being petty, I know. I just, I just wish to have you back,”

The tears start to roll down your cheeks, your eyes red and your heart loud. You instantly wrap your arms around Rafe, clutching him tightly to you.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, my head in the crook of his neck. “I’m really sorry I did that. It’s my fault we separated. It’s all my fault and I’m really sorry about that,”

Rafe’s hands reach for your back as he gently rubs it, the motion soothing and relaxing. “It’s okay, it really is. I was being a little child,” he softly chuckles. He holds onto your shoulders and gently pulls you back, looking into your eyes. “Just, don’t leave me again, yeah? I can’t do this life thing without you,”

You nod your head at his words, a soft smile taking over you as you feel your tears coming to a stop. “I promise to be by your side.” you say, your words firm.

“Always?” He asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

You sigh at his words, your smile still tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Always.”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae