#he was waiting for her (all of them really) AND THAT FUCKS ME UP

[tojisteddy]

Hi girl love your work and can you do a story when Simon overstimulates her with a toy in car love you girl

Middle of Nowhere | cw: 18+ mdni, daddy kink (kinda icky), overstim, use of toy, fingering, squirting, degradation, dumbification, meanie!simon, public sex (?) (it’s in a car so)

“Come on kitten, look so pretty, won’t you give me a show?”

You should’ve said ‘no’ right then and there.

Simon did an oil change to your car and decided he wanted to test it out, go for a quick drive with you just to make sure it was running smooth. You should’ve just hopped in there, but you took twentyfive five minutes getting ready.

Getting ready for what exactly? To sit in the car?

Well, yes!

Just a little make up, your glasses, change from out of the oversized shirt to a pair of jeans and a grey top that showed off your midsection, curls framing your face. Cute, really cute— bewitching even. You’d come down the steps all casual and ready to go and then leaned his head up to look at the ceiling with a sigh.

Simon could’ve eaten you right then and there, said fuck the drive, and bent your pretty ass over the couch, ate your pussy till you got the floor damp with a your sweet juices.

He chose, instead, to play a little game with you.

Gave a nod of his head in approval of your outfit, have you twirl to see your plump ass. Asked you with a ghost of a smirk on his lips, to give him a show, draw you in to his trap like he always did. You stupidly said yes, which led you to have a little toy in your cunt, your pretty long lashes fluttering shut while you gripped onto the door and Simons arm, and little mewls of ‘ahh’s and ‘ooh’s leaving your pretty lips.

“Pa, hngh- please.”

“Please, please, please, she says. Please what? We’re just going for a little ride, right? You’re a big girl. So sit still ‘nd there won’t be any issues.” He hummed.

Bastard.

He knew good and well the car bumping around like it did along with the vibrator had you mind in a whirlwind, and then he slowly kept hicked the volume up from 2 to 4.

“F-fuck!” You hiccup, an orgasm washing over you like a wave, your eyes blinking, trying to stay open.

Simon looks over at you, more than amused as you withered, but it’s not enough. He wants to see your head spin, ache and cry to cum. He turns it down to one, lets you settle in the feeling that turns it up to three. His knuckles brushes your cheek which makes you jolt, other hand on the wheel. You pout, panting, squirming in your seat for any kind of relief. But it’s not enough.

“I wanna cum, please Si.”

Simon’s hand goes to your neck, caressing your nose with his thumb making you shiver, your nipples hardening. He chuckles darkly, “You that impatient you can’t wait? I taught you better than that.”

“I- but- I-” And he turns it back down again, you can feel the tears pricking at your eyes. You grip onto his free arm, letting his large calloused hand fall in between your thighs. Humping at it like a damn animal.

“Awww,” he croons, Brown eyes meeting yours for a split second, the car changing from lane to lane— “Bein desperate little bitch, huh baby? That’s not good, is it?”

“I-I’ll be good Daddy. Promise! I- I wanna be-“ you don’t even know what words are falling from your lips, anything to get that release that’s been held back from you. Simon’s greedy girl. Your pulsing clit is begging for attention, slick drenching the lips and underwear confining your cunt.

“Oooh, look doll” The older man nods to the front view mirror, and you follow his eyes, “it’s the police, you think they’re gonna pull us over?”

Your eyes widen, the police car right behind you, you can’t even make out the person driving, your eyes are blurry, senses skewed, “No-“

“No you don’t think so?” He asks obliviously, as if he doesn’t know what you mean. 

“No, anngh- I don’t- don’t want them to see me- hah- i don’t wanna g-get in trouble!”

But it’s enough to make Simon’s eyes smile, turning the volume up to the max, making you sob in pleasure. Shoving his arm away as you try to hide yourself in the car door. You try your best to hold it, but it makes you worse, legs tingling and you thrash in your seat, tears leaving your eyes. It’s too much.

He laughs, “Thought ya said ya wanted to cum?”

“Pa I can’t- really can’t! They’ll see!” You cry through a moan. The blonde ignores your cries, unbuttoning your jeans and slipping his hands inside.

He soothes you, you don’t know it but the police cars passed at the last exit. His large fingers brush over your soaked folds of your panties a couple times, flicking your poor swollen clit, “Come on baby girl, be good and cum.”

Your mouth slightly agape, head falling against the headrest as tight pink walls spasm over nothing.

“Fuck baby,” he groans as your prettily release, taking his hand and sucking the two fingers you got wet and taking them out with a ‘pop’

Simon, that 6’4 demon, takes you chin in his fingers and tickling it before turning your face to look at him. Your eyes are low, you’re delerious, aching for his words— a good fucking kitty, aren’t you? He smirks, “rub your little clit, yeah? Show me you want it. We’re almost home. Maybe Dad’ll give you a reward.”

“Daddy the seat.” You mumble, the car swerves just a bit from something you can’t even register, but it makes that vibrator press into your soaking walls more, making you whimper.

He scuffs, grabbing your hand and shoving your manicured fingers in your pants. “Rub it kitty.”

It was never a question to begin with, the vibrator is still on high. That orgasm never truly went away, your fingers move your clit in a circular motion, the sloshing of your juices and creaminess hit the walls of the car, dampening your fingers so much they start to prune.

You choke on a sob, “Feels so good Daddy, mmmh- it’s always so- so gooood.”

Simon eyes light up, you ditzy bitch. Aren’t even worried about if cars see you now, to worried about your pretty pussy. He loves the way your eyes squeeze shut, plump lips fall open and your whole body shakes— “Make a mess then kitten. Be a messy girl.”

a chant of dad, daddy, dad falls off your lips when you fall apart again, your leg kicking out as water comes out of your pussy and soaks through underwear.

It’s a mess for sure, that’s definitely staining your jeans and the seats.

Simon takes you hand out, the car parking in your drive through. He turns the vibrator off and sucks your wet fingers clean. Kissing on them and rubbing them.

“Such a good girl f’me luvie. Gave me a good show.”

a/n: made this icky sorry. I love it. It was fun writing this. Sorry it took so long. Lmk what you bubs think.

most recent masterlist more meanie!simon

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱<3: @bruisedfig @tessakate @sevikasblackgf @mocha-the-muse @nightfwn @mims900 @lillybunni

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

here's an idea: a Bucky smut fic where reader is usually pretty quiet in bed and he takes it as a personal challenge. (Like somehow holds your jaw open while pounding so that you can hold any noise in and over the next two round he can hear every noise you make)

Thank you for the request! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you like it!

This is pretty much pure smut, the reader is described as female briefly. It does end fluffy though <3

Bucky wasn’t used to silence. Not during this, at least.

You were everything he could want, soft where he needed, sharp where it counted, and warm all over. But when it came to the bedroom, you were quiet. Not cold or withdrawn you kissed him back like you were starving, pulled him close like you’d never wanted to be separated again but your sounds were small. Barely there gasps, shaky breaths, the occasional hum that ghosted past his ear.

“You really think I don’t notice?” His voice was low, just barely brushing your ear. His breath was warm, his body already pressing you down into the mattress like he owned you. You swallowed. “Notice what?” Bucky dragged his metal hand up your thigh, parting you so easily with a casual possessiveness that made your breath hitch. “How quiet you are, baby. Damn near silent when I’m deep inside you.” You shifted, already wet from his voice alone. “I… I don’t mean to.”

“Oh, I know.” He kissed your throat, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. “Know you’re not doing it on purpose. But now I need to know what you sound like when you can’t keep it in.” You blinked up at him. “I’m gonna ruin that silence tonight.” His eyes darkened. “And you’re gonna thank me for it.”

You’re already trembling, soft gasps escaping as he lays you back on the sheets. His palm ghosts over your jaw, you flinch just the tiniest bit. Not in fear. In anticipation. Like you know he’s going to push. He leans in, voice low, dangerous. “Open.”

When your lips part for him, he almost groans. Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me.

Two fingers slide between your lips, not deep, just enough to make you vulnerable. Exposed. Make you his. Now there was no way you could bite it back. Can’t muffle any sounds. Can’t shut him out. His breathing hitched as he took in the sight under him. You look up at him with wide eyes, already flushed, already wrecked before he’s even moved. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he murmurs, lining himself up. “Can’t wait to hear every noise you’ve been hiding.”

And when he thrusts into you; hard and deep your eyes roll back, mouth falls open wider around his fingers, and finally…

There. That moan. That sharp, perfect crack in the silence. He watches as you fall apart in real-time. Watches you try to fight it and fail. “Yeah, baby,” he growls, thrusting harder. “That’s it. Give it to me. Let me fuckin’ hear you.” Every noise you make is his reward. Every gasp, every whimper, every choked little sob it’s better than he ever imagined. He wants to pull them out of her like thread, unraveling her one noise at a time.

You cried out, the sound catching in your throat as your body arched beneath him. But you couldn’t bite your lip. Couldn’t bury your face. Couldn’t stay silent. Not like this. Not with him keeping your mouth open like a prize. “That’s it,” he growled, hips slamming into you again. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you let go.” You whimpered a high, breathy noise you didn’t even recognize as your own. “That’s my girl,” he purred, rhythm ruthless. “Let me hear that sweet voice. You’ve been hiding it from me for so long.”

Each thrust dragged a different sound from you, shaky moans, breathless gasps, one broken little sob that made his eyes flash with pure hunger.

“Think you can stay quiet with me? When I’m this deep in your tight little pussy?” he taunted, mouth against your cheek now. “I don’t think so.”

You came with a cry that echoed in the room, your voice breaks, it’s raw and breathy, your whole body tightening around him. There was no way to stifle it, no way to mask it. And he smiled as he felt you clench around him, your thighs shaking, mouth still held wide by his fingers. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop now that he had you where he’s been dying to have you.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he flipped you over, chest pressed down to the sheets, ass in the air. “Still got more in you?” he asked, cock dragging along your sensitive folds. You shivered. “Y-Yeah--”

“That’s what I thought.” He slid back in slower, then set a bruising pace, pulling your hips back to meet every thrust. You tried to hold in the whimpers, but they spilled out anyway. Bucky reached around to grip your jaw again not roughly, just firm, thumb dragging your bottom lip down. “No hiding,” he purred the reminder in your ear. “Not tonight. Not with me.” You came again, louder this time. Raw. Honest.

You were trembling in his arms, body limp from overstimulation, lips red from how much sound he’d pulled from you. He held you close now soft strokes between your thighs, kisses on your temple. But when you whined softly in his lap, trying to catch your breath, he chuckled darkly. “Still think you can stay quiet, doll?” You shook your head weakly. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

Your throat was raw. Your body hums with the kind of satisfaction that feels bone-deep; it feels heavy, spent, and warm in a way that leaves you wordless. For once, your silence has nothing to do with shame. You’re quiet because he took everything from you, and you gave it willingly. Now, you’re wrapped in his arms, both of you still slick with sweat and breathless, your head tucked under his chin. His metal arm curls securely around your waist while the warmth of his flesh hand traces lazy circles over your back, grounding you, keeping you here. 

“You okay?” Bucky murmurs, voice rough with effort and something softer…concern? Affection?

You nod into his chest. “More than okay.” He kisses your forehead. “Didn’t push too hard?” You pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “No. You…It was amazing.” His gaze softens immediately, like hearing that gives him permission to relax. His thumb brushes your cheek. “You sounded so fuckin’ beautiful, baby,” he says, voice almost reverent. “Didn’t realize how much I needed to hear you.” 

You smile, a little shy again. “You make it easy. To just let go.” His brows pull slightly. “I never want you to think you have to stay quiet for me. I want all of it. Every sound, every word… even the messy ones.” You laugh softly, and he smiles at the sound like it’s his new favorite thing. “I didn’t think you’d care so much,” you admit. Bucky’s hand tilts your chin until you’re looking right at him. “I care about everything when it comes to you. Even the stuff you don’t say out loud.”

You kiss him, slow and thankful. And when he wraps you tighter against him, tucking the blanket around your legs, you let yourself melt into that feeling of safety, of softness, of being so utterly heard. Maybe tomorrow he’ll tease you for the sounds you made. Maybe he’ll chase them again. But right now?

He just holds you.  And for once, your silence means peace. Not hiding.

If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3

[smutmind]

More ahyeon!

MONSTER ft. Ahyeon

The countryside stretched silent and wide beyond the dusty windows. Inside, the guesthouse smelled of aged wood and dried herbs. Ahyeon stood just inside the threshold, backpack slipping off one shoulder, staring at the shadowed hallway where her host had disappeared.

She’d barely set down her bag when he returned—older, unshaven, sun-darkened skin, barefoot, and with the kind of presence that made her shrink into herself.

"You really came early," he said, voice low and amused.

"The bus wasn’t stopping again. I thought I’d wait here."

He nodded, glancing at her shoes. "City girl. You stand out here."

She tried to smile politely. "I won’t be any trouble. Just staying until classes start."

"Mm." He stepped closer. "They send you all this way just to hide you out here, huh?"

Her fingers tightened on her strap. "I’ll stay in the room mostly. I don’t take up space."

"No. You don’t."

He looked her over openly, then turned toward the hallway. "End of the hall. Last room. Come on."

The walls creaked with every step. When he opened the door, it gave with a groan. A single bed, one wooden chair, and thick light filtering through moth-bitten curtains.

Ahyeon stepped in. The air was warm, still.

"Nice and private," he said.

She nodded. "Thank you."

She turned to say something else, but he was already behind her, fingers grazing the strap of her top.

"Pretty thing like you, all alone out here. You think that’s safe?"

She stepped away. "I—My aunt said—"

He touched her wrist. "She didn’t know what you’d grow into."

Ahyeon gasped as he caught her other wrist, backing her toward the bed. Her bag dropped to the floor.

"Wait, I didn’t—This isn’t—please don’t—"

He shoved her gently onto the bed. "Stop lying. You think I don’t see how you look at me?"

"I don’t—I’m not—Please, let go!"

He yanked her top over her head, quick and practiced. Her bra followed, baring her chest to the dim light.

"Goddamn. Look at these. Soft little things—"

She covered herself. "Don’t! Please, don’t touch me like that—"

He pushed her hands aside, cupping them, thumbing her nipples until they hardened.

"Even your skin knows better than your mouth."

She winced, trying to twist away. "Why are you doing this? Stop—this isn’t right."

He leaned down, licking a slow path up one breast before sucking deep.

"You taste like fucking honey."

Her head jerked away. "You’re disgusting—get off me!"

He grinned. "And you’re tight."

She gasped as he pulled her to her knees on the floor, undoing his fly.

"No—no, I won’t! Please, stop—"

He slid her hands behind her back. "Mouth open."

"Please, I don’t want to—don’t make me do this—"

"Too late for that."

He guided himself to her lips. She turned her head, but he held her firm.

"Open up. Now."

Tears welled as she parted her lips. He slid in, slow but unrelenting. Her body tensed as he filled her mouth.

"That’s it," he muttered. "Wrap your tongue—yeah—"

She choked softly. Spit gathered at the corners of her lips. He rocked forward, deeper.

"Keep those eyes on me."

She tried. Her mascara streaked. Her breaths grew quick.

He groaned low. "Gonna cum. Take it all."

She gagged as he spilled down her throat, held there until she swallowed.

"Let me see."

She opened her mouth slowly, tongue glistening, empty.

He pulled her up roughly. "Bed. On your back."

She stumbled. "No, please, I did what you wanted—don’t do this—"

He shoved her flat.

"This is what happens when no one can hear you scream."

Her eyes widened. Outside, only the birds chirped.

"Someone—someone might come, please—"

He yanked off the rest of her clothes. Her legs trembled.

He spread them and ran his fingers over her.

"Soaked. Didn’t take long."

"That’s not true—stop lying!" she cried, voice shaking. "I’ve never... this is my first—"

He paused only a moment, then smirked. "Even better."

She gasped again as he moved closer, positioning himself.

"No, you’re too big—it won’t fit, please!" she cried, struggling.

"It’ll fit. You’ll stretch."

He pushed into her in one hard thrust.

She screamed into her arm. The bed creaked.

He grabbed her thighs. "Tightest I’ve ever had."

"Please—don’t—this isn’t what I came here for—"

He thrust deeper. "Say it again."

She sobbed. "Please stop—"

"You’re going to feel this for days."

He pounded into her, rhythm sharp, her hands slipping on the sheets.

"Even the birds know who you belong to now."

He leaned over, kissed her neck hard, biting just above the collarbone.

She turned her head, crying openly. "I hate you—I hate this—please... it hurts."

"You think anyone’s listening out here? You’re mine until I’m done."

Her body shook beneath him.

He grabbed her waist, pulled her closer. His groans deepened.

"Cum with me, baby. Now."

She sobbed harder. He drove into her one last time, hips locking. He spilled inside her with a grunt.

She went still beneath him, breath broken.

"Monster...."

[georgeclarkeys]

blue eyed bet pt 2 - george clarkey x reader

summary: you deal with the aftermath of finding out your boyfriend asked you out on a bet - 2.3k words

pt 1

i was struggling with this a bit, but the lovely @pretendyoucantseeme helped me brainstorm! so if you were fighting for your life waiting for this, go tell her thank you lololol. anyways this is the longest fic i have ever posted and i was mad when i wrote it so good luck!

hope y'all don't hate it!

-

Your head was pounding. After leaving George standing in the doorway of his flat, you called your best friend. She picked you up, and took you home, before letting you cry on her shoulder all night. That was four days ago.

You had been sulking in bed for four whole days. The curtains were drawn, there was an empty tub of ice cream on the nightstand, and you were under a weighted blanket. The lights were off, but the room was being illuminated by the dull light of the television. The scene in your bedroom looked like a cliche painting, depicting heartbreak in its most basic form. George had texted you. Chris had texted you. Both Arthurs had texted you. You could not bring yourself to reply to any of them, especially George, while you could still feel the ache in your chest.

A knock on your door pulled your attention away from the raunchy reality show on the TV. You made no effort to get up. Let them think I’m not home. The knock sounded again, a bit louder this time. Fuck me, you thought, rubbing your puffy eyes. You hauled yourself out of bed and threw on the nearest sweatshirt, not bothering to deal with the birds-nest situation on top of your head. The person at the door knocked again. 

“Fucking shit, I’m coming! Damn!” You yelled out, growing irritated. As your hand touched the door knob, you had a realization and paused.

“If your name is George Clarke, go away,” you spoke to the person through the door.

“My name is not George Clarke,” the unmistakable, muffled voice of Chris Dixon replied.

Cracking the door open in shock, your eyes landed on Chris. He looked tired, you could see it in his eyes and slightly disheveled hair.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, trying to scrub the crusted tears off your cheeks with your hand. 

“(Y/N), no one has heard from you in four days. You are my friend. I needed to make sure you were at least alive, and I want to talk to you.”

You eyed him warily. He looked sincere, and there was a hint of desperation in his expression.

“Can I come in?” He asked you, gesturing slightly with his hand. 

You didn’t respond, but opened the door wider, allowing him to enter. You followed Chris to the couch, opting to sit in the chair across from him. You folded your hands in your lap and avoided looking directly into his eyes. 

“George doesn’t know I’m here,” he started, before pausing and taking a few minutes to gather his thoughts. “I wanted to explain myself, because you deserve to know what happened that night.”

You peered out the window, and focused on your breathing, “go on.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his hands. His eyes were trained on the ground in shame, “I was not aware that you did not know about the bet. Obviously. I would like to start out by saying that you should have known a long time ago.”

He paused. You couldn’t move if you tried.

“George had noticed you early on, that night,” he continued. “He mentioned something offhand about the beautiful girl across the room, but no one really took him seriously. Arthur noticed when you started staring at George from the bar. Then, you started to leave. George was too shy to chase you down, so I offered him twenty pounds if he could get your number and ask you on a date. (Y/N) I swear on my life it was nothing malicious. We were not making fun of you, and I was not trying to be a dickhead. I was just trying to get my friend to make a move on the woman he had been sneaking glances at all night. I’m not trying to make excuses, what we did was wrong, but we all truly love and care about you. You deserved to know the truth.”

You curled into your chair, tucking your feet under you and placing your fist under your chin. You could feel Chris’s eyes on you but you kept your gaze firmly on the window. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest and your mind was racing with thoughts. 

One thought in particular emerged ahead of the others. Your lips were moving before you had a chance to consider your words.

“How is George?” You blurted out, the first words you had spoken since you sat down with Chris. 

He looked startled for a moment, but composed himself quickly. “He’s, uh, he’s not handling this very well. He misses you… wants to make things right.”

You cut your eyes back to Chris, making eye contact with him. He had given you some things to think about. “Thanks for stopping by, Chris.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight smile and rose out of his chair. You stayed put as he walked to the door, your eyes back on the window. The door squeaked as Chris opened it.

“(Y/N)?” He called, causing you to turn your head towards him, “I hope you know how sorry I am. Truly.”

You nodded as he shut the door behind him, leaving you alone in your thoughts once again.

Eventually, you lumbered back into your room. You were still trying to work through the information that Chris had given you, and pondering if it made a difference at all. Your phone lit up with a notification, grabbing your attention. It was just an email, but it reminded you of all your unread texts.

Picking up your phone, you took a deep breath and willed yourself to open the messages from George.

georgie <3 

Four days ago: 

(Y/N) I am so sorry please let me explain

I am the biggest idiot on the planet

Let me know you’re safe please

Three days ago:

(Y/N) please just tell me you made it home safe

I know you don’t want to talk to me, text Chris or Arthur or someone please I just want to know you’re safe

Two days ago:

I wouldn’t talk to me right now either. I will give you all the space you need. If you want to talk, please text me

You sighed, loudly, and brought your hand up to your mouth to chew on a fingernail. You love George, but was this something you could forgive? He had betrayed your trust in so many ways, and lied to you several times over the course of your relationship. Your mind began to wander, imagining the worst case scenarios. You needed answers: real answers. Answers that you could only get from George. Your fingers were dancing across the screen before you could talk yourself out of it.

send to georgie <3 ?

I want to talk to you. In person. Come to mine?

You pressed send and immediately set your phone face down, trying to control your nerves. He replied less than a minute later.

georgie <3 

I’ll be there in 20

Twenty minutes flew by, mainly due to your panicked cleaning and fretting over your appearance. For the second time that day, a knock sounded at your door. You took a deep breath before opening the door, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 

George’s gorgeous blue eyes were dull, seemingly held up by the dark circles under them. The usually pristine, curly mullet was flat and lifeless. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept since the last time you saw him. In one of his hands he held a bouquet of pink stargazer lilies, your favorite flower. 

George ran his other hand through his hair, ruffling it, “These are for you. They're your favorite, right?” He lifted his arm, offering the bouquet of flowers to you. You blinked at him. He had brought you flowers a million times before, but this felt different, like it was more intentional. 

Your mouth twitched, not a smile but the ghost of one. “Thank you, George,” you spoke softly as you took the flowers out of his hand, “come, sit while I put these in a vase.” He nodded and made his way to the couch, ironically sitting in the exact same spot that Chris had chosen. His eyes lingered on you as you filled a vase with water and delicately placed the lilies inside. No one said a word.

You sat across from him, in the same chair that you did earlier. You were glad he brought you flowers, it gave you a minute to gather your thoughts.

“(Y/N), I-” he started, but you cut him off.

“No. I’m going first,” his eyes widened slightly but you continued. “George, I have never been as angry in my entire life than I am at you right now. I feel like you played me. You lied to me. You betrayed my trust. I’ve spent four days wondering if any of it was real at all.”

His face crumbled at the last sentence, but he did not interrupt you.

“George, I love you. I love you so deeply that there has been a real ache in my chest for four days. That is why I am willing to hear you out. So please, say what you came to say.”

His eyes found yours; melancholic yearning was written on his face. The eyes you loved to get lost in suddenly brought about a simple wariness in your mind.

“The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you,” he choked out, voice cracking with emotion. You longed to reach out and comfort him, but the walls you had built up kept you from moving.

“I am so sorry for not telling you about the bet, (Y/N). I should have told you on our first date, but I didn’t. I chickened out. You were so amazing, and we were having such a good time. I didn’t want to ruin it. Fuck, I should have told you that day.” He ran his fingers through his hair again; he was nervous.

“I don’t know how I can make this up to you, but I will do anything. I will get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness (Y/N).”

Your heart lurched, and a few tears trickled down your cheek, “George, how can I trust you? How can I trust anything you’ve ever said to me?”

He straightens his back, locking his gorgeous blue eyes on your teary ones. “Everything was real, (Y/N). I know you. I know you and I love everything about you. I know that you take your coffee with cream and just a touch of sugar. You write in your journal every morning while you drink it. I know that you love Indian food, but you’ll only buy it from that place down the street because you found out the owners are working to pay for their daughters' schooling.” 

Your tears were flowing freely now.

“I know you love animals,” he continued, “and I would never take you to a zoo unless conservation and rehabilitation were clearly part of their mission, because I know how passionate you are about it. I know that you scrunch your nose when you concentrate, and cry when you’re nervous. Your favorite flowers are pink stargazer lilies, and you only eat tomatoes if they’re in pasta sauce. You love it when I kiss your forehead, and hold your hand in crowded places. Every time you watch a new movie you end up crying because you get attached to the characters. You have so much love in your heart for everyone around you, even people who don’t deserve it, and strangers.”

You were sobbing at this point, feeling the intense emotion in his words. He moved off the couch, falling to his knees at your feet. “May I?” He asked, gesturing at your hands. You said nothing, but nodded your head, giving him permission to grab your hands. He held them softly, like he was scared of breaking you, and resumed his monologue. 

“(Y/N), I know you and I love you. I should have told you about the bet from the start. All I know is that it played no part in the real love I have for you. It stopped being a bet for me as soon as I started talking to you. There is nothing more real than my love for you. Please, give me another chance. Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

You squeezed his hands before releasing them. He looked defeated, but only for a moment as you grabbed his face and pressed your lips against his. There was no hesitation, he kissed you back immediately. The kiss was full of desperation and longing, like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been brought back together. As your lips moved against his, you could feel the hot tears begin to slide down his face. 

You pulled back, breaking the kiss. Taking in the tear stained face of the man in front of you, still on his knees at your feet, you knew he meant every word he said. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you whispered, cracking a half-hearted smile, “but I’ll give you another chance, George Clarke. Please don’t break my heart again.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” he said back with a sincere smile. For the first time in four days, the stars were shining in his gorgeous blue eyes once again.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | extra

rafe buying reader a gift at the gas station

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- C H . 1 7 | C H . 1 8 ->

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive themes and implications, awkward!rafe, cougar behavior from an older woman (age appropriate but still gross), mention of alcohol consumption (flashback), one-sided flirting, kinda ptsd!rafe lol, rafe going insane (again)

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 2.8k+

✿ A / N ✿ thx @wefelldowntherabbithole13 for requesting this. hope you guys enjoy this little extra and lmk what you think <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

// READ CHAPTER 17 BEFOREHAND IF YOU DON'T WANNA GET SPOILED

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W E E K O N E // S A T U R D A Y 2 : 5 5 P M

Rafe was so close to ripping off the fucking gas cap of his fucking Benz because why the fuck wouldn't it close, HUH?!

Or better yet: why the fuck did this stupid shit piss him off so goddamn bad in the first place?

OH RIGHT. Probably something to do with how he’d just dropped you off in the fucking Cut, at that rat-infested shithole where his stupid sister and her loser rat friends always hung out.

FUCKING GREAT.

No. No, you hadn't exactly told him who’d be waiting for you there besides your loud-ass friend and some dude she apparently needed help with. Seriously, Rafe still couldn’t wrap his head around how you of all people were supposed to help her. You could barely grasp the concept of flirting—how the hell were you supposed to be of any help besides driving everyone in a five-mile radius absolutely insane with your crazy head?

Rafe exhaled. Finally punched the damn gas cap shut with his fist.

Knuckles throbbing, he rubbed at them, though it hurt less than his damn head.

Like, Jesus fucking Christ, that stupid-ass conversation you two had just minutes ago? Rafe didn’t even know how the hell he’d managed not to crash the fuck out. He deserved a fucking gold medal or trophy for keeping his cool and actually calming your crazy ass down.

And the best part? Not even a whole fucking minute after he’d defused the ticking bomb that was your brain, you were already ready to ditch him.

Seriously, was Rafe just some fucking joke to you?

Sure, yeah, okay, your friend had indeed called, and apparently you’d promised to hang out with her anyway today. But that wasn’t exactly a solid reason to dip immediately. You could’ve stayed just a little longer and… yeah. Done what, exactly?

Under different circumstances, it would've been late evening, and Rafe would've gone to your place because no way in hell was he bringing a girl around his nosy-ass family. And of course, you'd have the house to yourself—Rafe had zero interest in dealing with a random girl's parents (except that yours actually were pretty chill). You'd have giggled at the door, walked in, one thing would've led to another, and he'd have you moaning into the sheets. Or well, not moaning, considering at this point he’d rather shut you up and feel you choke on his—

Fuck, he really didn’t need to get hard at a damn gas station.

And yeah, just like with his occasional (!!!) hookups (again, he wasn't a fuckboy, alright?), he’d either crash at your place, too lazy to drive back, or show up at Kelce’s or Top’s, do a line, and pass out on the couch.

That’s it.

But those hadn't been the circumstances. It had been the middle of the fucking day, and Rafe knew better than to expect some quick fun with you. Hell, he’d be out of his fucking mind if he even tried making a move. You’d probably lose it, that whole exhausting conversation would start all over again, and even more likely: You’d freak the fuck out, dip, and that’d be the end of whatever the hell this was between you two.

Oh right, now there actually was a label. Apparently you were aiming for a friendship, or rather you thought he wanted one.

Cute, really. You two had barely known each other for, what, a week? Not even? And you’d already pressured him into deciding where things were going after the project because apparently, your brain needed to "make space for new people if they decided to stay" otherwise your anxiety would eat you up.

Aight.

Like, dude. Chill the fuck out for once. Why couldn’t you just live in the fucking moment for a second? But no, you had to constantly leap a thousand steps ahead and dissect every possible outcome.

You were literally the least chill person Rafe had ever met, and somehow, he still couldn’t bring himself to dislike you. How? He didn’t fucking know. Probably better if he never figured it out, because unlike you, he didn’t need every single answer to every goddamn situation.

Jesus Christ.

But yeah, sure, why not. Rafe loved collecting annoying people as his friends for a living. One more wouldn’t kill him. Bonus points to you, though, because for some fucked up reason, he actually had fun with you. Sometimes more than with Kelce and Top. And well, he didn't have the option to flirt with those two. But with you? Shit, it was his new favorite activity.

Which brought him back to the original question: What the fuck was Rafe supposed to do with a female friend?

Like, with Topper and Kelce, he’d hit the country club, hang out at one of their places, smoke some hookah, hit some beach bar or the gym.

Wait. On second thought—dragging you into the gym, you wearing tight leggings, squatting in front of him, and—

Rafe rubbed the bridge of his nose. He seriously needed to think of some other shit.

Another reason he desperately needed a fucking line right now. This whole situation—he was actually going insane.

First things first: pay for the goddamn gas.

The Benz gave two clicking sounds as Rafe locked it and headed into the station.

Good thing he’d driven back to the north side of the island. No way in hell he was about to get robbed by some cracked-out junkie at a Cut gas station where they probably laundered money and sold kidneys on the side.

“Pump Three,” Rafe said as he stepped up to the counter, eyes on his wallet, fumbling to get that fucking credit card out of the sleeve. Seriously, his patience was really being tested today.

“Oh, honey, what happened to your face?”

Rafe looked up—and his heart dropped.

Fucking shit. Not her.

Agatha Woods. 44, widow, Pogue, and the fucking woman Rafe had almost hooked up with last year at a bonfire party.

She’d been working the bar (which—let's be real—grown woman hanging out at a teenager party? Fucked-up), and Rafe had been doing shots one after the other with Top. And then Topper—holy shit, that was the party the idiot almost hooked up with your friend—dipped, and Rafe got left behind. And for some goddamn fucked-up unexplainable reason, he'd stayed at the bar with cougar Agatha and let her keep pouring him drink after drink.

Fucking shit, he'd been so wasted and desperate anyway because he'd dropped Gracie a week before and then there had been fucking Agatha with her triple Ds, her purring at him and fuck, Jesus Christ, his whole body literally tensed at the memory. His horny, almost-blackout self had almost followed her to her truck if Kelce hadn’t intercepted him.

Actually no, Rafe's entire skin was covered in goosebumps right now.

Shitshitshitshit. Just ignore her. She won’t remember. She probably pulls this shit on every guy who'd just celebrated his 18th birthday.

He shook his head and shrugged like it was no big deal, avoiding her eyes. “Golf club accident.”

Now Rafe was forced to meet her eyes, only because he was trying so fucking hard not to look down at her way-too-exposed cleavage as she leaned forward on the counter.

“I’m off soon, want me to take a look at that?” she said, fluttering her lashes in that sweet—actually, no, raspy smoker’s voice of hers.

Rafe kind of wanted to go back to Barry’s and let the guy shoot his brains out, because what the actual fuck. Why was he getting hit on by a woman twice his age? For the second time.

He just shook his head, letting out a tight chuckle. “Nah, I’m good. So, uh ... Pump Three.”

“I heard you just fine the first time,” Agatha said with a smirk, leaning back. “Just thought maybe you’d wanna pick up where we left off last time.”

Please just let me fucking pay. Holy shit.

Rafe gave a strained smile. “How much?”

Agatha chuckled. “Oh, sweetie, this is a gas station, not a brothel.”

What the—fucking shit, what?

His neck and cheeks were suddenly burning, and for a second he genuinely considered walking out and setting the entire gas station on fire, himself included.

Jesus Christ. This day was just getting worse by the goddamn second.

“I’m well aware,” he replied but his fucking voice cracked, and FUCKING HELL.

The hunting knives on the counter suddenly looked way too inviting, even though they were sitting right next to a blindingly pink stand full of glittery, oversaturated plastic bags with little rainbow-colored horses printed on them.

Okay. Seriously. The fucking universe—or whatever sick fuck ran it—was messing with him, because guess what was printed in bold letters on that stand?

Friendship Bracelets: Pick Your Pony, Share The Sparkle.

What. The. Fuck.

This had to be some serious joke. Hadn't he just made fun of the idea of making you a friendship bracelet a few minutes ago, just to shut you up?

“Four bucks.”

Startled, Rafe snapped his eyes back to the cougar, blurting out, “Huh?”

She laughed. “Looking at that thing with that big eyes of yours. You got a friend you wanna share the magic with?”

“Girlfriend, actually.”

The words had left his mouth before his brain could even catch up.

Shit.

Even worse than calling you his girlfriend in front of the cougar trying to bag him: he seriously considered buying one of the dumb bracelets.

See? This was your fucking fault. Riling him up with your psycho brain, then bouncing to Sarah’s rathole where she was most likely also hanging out. And now, here he was, about to buy you some glittery-ass children’s bracelet just to… fuck, he didn’t even know. Just the idea of you owning something he got you, it made his blood rush in a way that genuinely concerned him.

Well. One upside to the sudden topic shift: Agatha was backing off, now that she thought he was taken. Just like he’d intended, of course.

Guess she has some standards, at least.

“All grown up now, got yourself a girl, huh?,” she said with a giggle. “You oughta invest in a real bracelet then. Ain’t no girlfriend gonna want some kids’ toy meant for little girlies.”

“Nah,” Rafe muttered with a frown, cheeks warm. “She’ll like it.”

You loved sending fucked-up, crazy-ass crackhead pics to express your emotions. You’d absolutely love some discolored, shitty plastic bracelet from some shitty-ass horse cartoon.

And the fact that Rafe even knew that fucking cartoon in the first place was reason enough to buy one of the hunting knives as well and end his misery right here. Wheezie used to watch that crap when she was younger. He remembered those smiley, ugly-ass horses now.

Nonetheless, Rafe stepped closer to the stand, scanning the different packages. Apparently, each bracelet was themed after one of those LSD-tripping ponies.

There—that one. The obnoxious blue one with rainbow hair. He hated that smug, loud, egotistical piece-of-shit horse. Friendship bracelet for the Rainbow Dash in your life.

Yeah, no thanks. He wasn’t putting that asshole on your wrist.

“You need help choosing?” Agatha asked with a chuckle. “Otherwise move that sweet little ass of yours. Got another customer waiting.”

Rafe furrowed his brows and moved to the side, trying his best to ignore the heat crawling up his chest. First thing he’d do once he got out of here was a fucking line in the car, because fuck this day.

Okay. So what shitty-ass horse should he even get you?

He remembered the purple one with the emo bangs and that dumb little dragon sidekick. Wheezie’s favorite. Twilight Sparkle the package read.

Jesus, how the fuck did they all have shitty names like that?

Then there was the pink one. Of fucking course, she was called fucking Pinkie Pie. Rafe remembered her being all over the place and screaming and bouncing and just... no. That bitch reminded him way too much of Kelce for some reason. Or your best friend. Which was basically the same thing. Hard pass.

The weird cowgirl-looking horse just looked straight-up ugly. No way he’d let you wear ugly shit like that. Plus, it gave off full-on Pogue energy, so yeah, fuck that too.

Which left him with two fuckers called Rarity and Fluttershy.

And for some reason, Fluttershy just... felt right. Rafe couldn’t explain it, but he knew that was the one. Soft colors, none of that oversaturated eyesore bullshit. And her smile on the packaging—kinda sweet, kinda shy (well duh, the bitch was called Fluttershy for a reason), and she just radiated your vibe. Quiet, soft, but like... deep (in thought about some unnecessary bullshit probably).

He even remembered her being eerily like you. Awkward, kind, and anxious.

Jesus Christ, why the fuck did he even remember that?

Rafe grabbed the package with a grimace. It read Friendship Bracelet for the Fluttershy in your life. He seriously questioned his fucking sanity as he dropped it on the counter.

“Oh, so you finally picked one,” Agatha said, scanning it in with a smirk and raising an eyebrow. “I’m just gonna assume your girlfriend’s of legal age.”

HUH WHA—FUCKING SHIT, EW.

The audacity of that woman to say that of all people.

Rafe smiled crookedly, holding up his card. “Listen, lady, I’m in a fucking hurry, alright?”

Agatha chuckled again, holding out the reader. “That’ll be 110.55 then.”

The moment the confirmation beep rang out, Rafe snatched the bracelet and bolted the hell out of that goddamn gas station slash cougar pit. Before he ever stepped foot in there again, he’d rather make out with a fucking Pogue or shoot himself in the face.

In the car, he dropped the plastic package along with his wallet and keys into the center console and slammed on the gas. He needed to get out of there before that cougar actually chased him down.

And then the overwhelming urge to just crash his car into the nearest wall or tree rose up because:

Did he seriously just buy a fucking horse bracelet for a girl who was driving him completely insane, which also had the most fucked-up brain he’d ever witnessed?

Oh, and the worst part? He knew damn well he wouldn’t get anything in return. No sex. No blowjob. Not even a basic makeout. Probably just some awkward little smile and a confused “Thanks". Worst case? Another fucking discussion about what this meant, what Rafe’s intentions were, whether he was just trying to get in your pants, blah blah blah.

And the most fucked-up, goddamn infuriating part? He didn’t even seem to mind.

Sure, if you'd show him your gratitude on your knees, he wouldn’t complain (shit, just the thought almost made him hard), but Rafe had pretty much (almost) accepted that nothing like that was ever gonna happen between you two.

And guess friends without benefits didn't do this kinda shit, right? Like, Top and Kelce basically fit into this category and he'd never in a million years...just fuck no, what. Then again, they didn't have tits and a cute ass like yours, so. And moreover, Rafe would never ever gift them a cringe-ass fucking friendship bracelet. And definitely not one week after getting to know them.

Shit. The bracelet wasn’t supposed to mean anything anyway. Rafe just felt like he needed to make his point clear one more time, once and for all because he had this gut feeling that words didn’t cut it with you. Two days from now, you’d be whining again because Rafe made some harmless flirty joke, and your fucked-up head would twist it into some manipulative scheme of him wanting to get in your pants.

So when he'd give you this dumbass bracelet, he’d make fucking sure you read what it said:

F-R-I-E-N-D-S-H-I-P Bracelet.

Unfortunately, the gas station didn’t offer a bracelet that read “For the girl I got stuck with in a school project, who I kinda wanna bend over but I'm also fine with not doing so, even though she’s batshit crazy and wants a label six days in for a FUCKING HANGOUT, and for reasons only God knows I’m still putting up with her shit and guess I'm her fucking friend now and buying her this crap just to shut her spiraling brain up AND to make it loud and clear I'm not toying with her crazy ass”.

Jesus Christ.

He was losing it. He was actually going insane.

And the only reason for it?

You.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- C H . 1 7 | C H . 1 8 ->

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T A G L I S T F O R M (taglist for this series is CLOSED but you can sign up for my other stuff through this link)

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[demie90s]

What You Need

Caitlin Clark x fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Caitlin Clark share a dorm. She has a boyfriend—Connor. But you’ve been in her space too long, too close, too bold.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Slow-burn tension, dorm-room drama, forbidden flirtation, emotional cheating, roommate obsession

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:Suggestive content, profanity, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, implied smut, cheating themes

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~ 2.7k

ᴠɪʙᴇ: “I’m what you need” in a hoodie and boxers, thigh spread on the futon, grinning like you already know she’s yours.

He hates me. And honestly? That shit turns me on.

Connor doesn’t say it out loud, not when Caitlin’s watching, but he doesn’t have to. His face twists every time I walk in the room, every time my hand lingers a little too long on her shoulder, every time I pull her into a hug that ends with her in my arms and her head buried in my chest like I’m home.

Like I’m the one she needs. Not him.

I always flash him a little smile when it happens. A low, lazy one—like I’m not trying. Like this is just me. Relaxed. Confident. Dangerous.

Because it is.

I’ve been a boxer since I was a kid. 5’10, all legs and control, knuckles that don’t bruise anymore. My coach used to say I fight like I’m waiting for the bell to confess something. Calm. Ruthless. Patient.

Which is perfect—because Caitlin’s been testing me since the day we moved in.

Not on purpose. She doesn’t even notice, not really. To her, I’m just her roommate. Her favorite hoodie thief. The one who knows exactly how she likes her tea and exactly when her cramps hit. I’m her best friend. Her shoulder. Her laugh when the world’s too loud.

And yeah… I also eat her out when Connor’s not around.

She doesn’t call it that. She doesn’t call it anything. Sometimes it’s late. Sometimes she’s tired. Sometimes she’s just “feeling weird” and crawls into my bed in her underwear, curled against me like I’m gravity. Her hand slides down, and I take it from there.

No questions. No strings. Just relief.

When it’s over, she turns away like it didn’t mean anything. And I let her. I always let her. Because she can lie to herself—but I see the truth in how she arches into me. In the way her hands shake when I kiss her collarbone. In the sounds she makes when my mouth is on her and nothing else in the world matters.

⸻

Tonight, it’s movie night.

Connor’s here. His hand’s on her thigh. And I’m sitting across from them on the floor, leaned back against the couch, watching them like a goddamn predator.

He hates how close we are. How I talk to her. How she laughs harder at my jokes. How she calls me “baby” when she’s sleepy and doesn’t even realize it.

At one point, I get up to grab my water and pass by them on the way back. Caitlin’s mid-laugh, and without even thinking, I lean down and kiss her cheek.

It’s soft. It’s quick. It’s casual. Like always. But Connor stiffens.

“What the fuck was that?” he says.

I blink. “Chapstick delivery. She asked earlier.”

“I was joking,” Caitlin says, flustered.

I grin. “I wasn’t.”

Connor looks at her, then me. “You let her do that?”

I tilt my head. “Let? I didn’t know Caitlin needed permission to be touched.”

“Y/N—” Caitlin warns, soft.

But I’m already smiling. “Relax, man. It’s not like we’re fucking.”

He opens his mouth. Shuts it.

Because he knows if he really wanted to throw hands, he’d lose. Everyone does. I’ve got shoulders built from rope and repetition. I’ve got forearms that crack necks when I stretch. I’ve got calluses and calm.

And Caitlin? She never defends him. She doesn’t defend me either—but she doesn’t shut me down. That’s enough.

⸻

Later that night, after he storms out (again), she’s sitting on the couch in one of my hoodies.

She always picks the gray one. The one that still smells like my cologne. She claims it’s warm. I know better.

“Why do you do that?” she asks, scrolling her phone.

I raise a brow. “Do what?”

“Mess with him.”

“You mean tell the truth?”

“Y/N,” she sighs.

“I’m serious,” I say, sitting beside her. “I don’t do anything you don’t allow.”

She looks at me. Really looks. And for a second, she doesn’t say anything. I reach out, brush her hair behind her ear. My hand stays there, fingers tucked under her jaw.

“Tell me to stop,” I say again, quiet.

She doesn’t.

I lean in, kiss the side of her neck. The same spot I left a mark last week. The same one she covered up with makeup before brunch.

“You’ve been mine,” I whisper. “Even when you don’t want to admit it.”

Her breath catches. Her phone drops between us.

“Y/N, I can’t—”

“You already do.”

I kiss her again. Her mouth opens. My tongue slides in. It’s hot and desperate and so damn familiar. She moans against my lips. One hand gripping my hoodie like she’s mad at herself.

I push her back on the couch, crawl between her legs, mouth trailing down her stomach.

“You let me do this,” I murmur, lips brushing her waistband. “You always let me.”

She gasps. One arm thrown over her eyes, like if she can’t see it, it’s not happening.

But it is. And we both know it always will.

⸻

She turned twenty-one and the world tried to hand her cake.I gave her everything else.

Didn’t interfere with Conor’s plans—wouldn’t want to seem messy. I let him have the dinner, the movie, the awkward handholding he calls romance. I let him try. But the day? That was mine.

Started with a knock on her door before she even opened her eyes. Fresh coffee, exactly how she likes it—hazelnut swirl, a splash of oat milk, extra whip. Balanced on top? A foil-wrapped breakfast sandwich and a little yellow card.

No name. Just:

“You’re my favorite part of waking up.” — your bestie 💋

Inside was a pressed flower from her favorite walk route and the tiniest heart drawn at the bottom corner.She smiled when she saw it. I know she did. She always smiles at my notes.

Around noon, her phone buzzed.

Another delivery: her favorite lunch, already paid for, dropped right to her hands while she waited in the film room. Everyone looked. Everyone knew. She texted me a soft “you’re insane lol” with a picture of her half-eaten wrap. I replied with a zoomed-in pic of my middle finger.

I signed it: Love, the reason your man’s nervous.

But the real fun didn’t start until she got back to the dorm.

She walked in humming. A little buzzed from the champagne mimosas Conor ordered at brunch. Still in that too-tight dress she didn’t pick for herself. I was sitting on the couch waiting.

Fitted black tee. Baggy sweats. Hoodie slung over my lap. Real domestic. Real demure. (Hehe)

“Hey, birthday girl,” I grinned. “You look uncomfortable.”

She tossed her purse on the table. “You’re such a dick.”

“I’m a visionary.”

She opened her mouth, probably to sass me, but stopped when she saw the small black bag on her bed.

“…What’s that?”

“Your last gift.”

“I told you no more stuff.”

“And I told you I don’t listen.”

She crossed the room, picked up the bag, and pulled out a tiny velvet box.

“…You didn’t.”

I leaned back and laced my fingers behind my head.

“Open it.”

She did. Slow. Cautious.

Inside: a delicate gold promise ring with a single tiny sapphire in the center. She stared.

“Y/N—”

“It’s not a relationship ring,” I said. “It’s a reminder. That no matter where you are, how confused you feel, or who you let inside your bed… you still belong to me.”

Her mouth parted. Her hand shook just a little.

“I’m not yours,” she whispered.

I stood up. Crossed to her slow. Brushed her hair behind her ear.

“You’re so mine.”

She didn’t move. I took the ring and slipped it on her finger myself. Kissed the top of her hand like she was a damn queen. Then I grabbed my phone, pulled her into me, and took a picture of us.

Posted it to my story with no caption. Just audio in the background—her voice from a voicemail she left two weeks ago:

“You’re my favorite person. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

And the picture? Her curled into me, smile soft, ring glinting in the light.

Bestie behavior.

Conor showed up around seven.

Dinner reservations. A dumb card. One of those overpriced mall necklaces that looked like it came from a vending machine. She smiled. She always smiles. But she didn’t post him.

I watched them leave from the window. Smirked to myself. Because tonight? I’d get her back. And when I do?

I’m not stopping at flowers.

⸻

She didn’t knock.

Just walked in, kicked off her shoes, and threw her jacket across the futon. Her hair was messy. Her lip gloss was gone. And she was already pulling that little mall necklace off her neck like it itched.

I was laid up in bed, hoodie sleeves pushed to my elbows, scrolling my phone like I wasn’t waiting on her all damn night.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just disappeared into her room. A while later, she came back barefoot—in gray sweats, her skin glowing, sports bra tight across her chest like a bow I wanted to rip off with my teeth.

“Cute fit,” I said, smirking.

She rolled her eyes and climbed into my bed without hesitation, crawling under the blanket like it was her spot. Because it was. Wet hair damping the pillow.

I locked my phone and tossed it on the dresser.

“So?” I asked. “Tell me about your night.”

She groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. It’s my gift.”

She laughed, already blushing. That guilty kind. She was curled up on her side, head on my pillow, and I was lying beside her, one hand resting just under the waistband of her sweats.

“I mean… it was fine,” she mumbled.

I raised a brow. “Just fine?”

She shrugged. “Dinner was mid. He kept talking about himself. Got me a necklace.”

“The ugly one?”

“Stop—”

“What about after dinner?”

She hesitated.

I leaned closer, lips brushing her ear. “You let him fuck?”

She didn’t answer. So I kissed her shoulder. Then her collarbone. Then lower.

“Caitlin,” I said, voice a whisper. “Tell me.”

“He—he tried,” she said. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t good.”

I slid my hand lower, tugging her sweats down just enough to settle between her thighs. She shifted. Didn’t stop me.

“So he couldn’t finish the job?”

“I didn’t come,” she whispered.

I grinned against her stomach. “You never do with him.”

She didn’t deny it.

“You know what I think?” I said, lips brushing her hip. “I think you come back here because you know who does it right.”

She inhaled sharply when I kissed lower. Open-mouthed. Slow.

“Tell me what he said when you moaned,” I whispered, tongue teasing her skin. “Did he think it was for him?”

“Y/N—”

“Tell me,” I said again, two fingers sliding in, mouth finding the softest part of her. “I want you to say it while I eat what’s mine.”

She gasped. Tried to speak.

“Use your words, Caitlin,” I growled, tongue sliding in deep. “You’re so good at pretending. Do it now.”

Her voice broke. “He said I was quiet… he didn’t know I was—was close—” I sucked harder. Smirked when her legs shook.

“Close?” I said, voice dark. “Baby, I haven’t even started.”

She whimpered. And I didn’t stop. Not until her whole body arched. Not until her hands gripped the sheets. Not until she came twice—loud, soaked, trembling. Afterwards she just laid there on her side, staring at me like I’d unzipped something inside her soul.

I brushed her hair back.

“He’s not me,” I whispered. “And he never will be.”

⸻

It’s game day. We were all squeezed around the patio table like this was some chill post-practice hangout, but let’s be real—it was a warzone with pretty drinks.

Caitlin sat between me and Connor. Technically, closer to him. But her body? Fully leaned toward me. Legs brushing mine. Elbow grazing my thigh. Reaching across the table—not for her plate, but for mine.

“Want another bite?” I asked, already holding up the sandwich.

She nodded, smiling, mouth parting before I even finished tearing it. I fed her slow. Let my fingers linger a little too long near her lips. She didn’t blink. Just hummed, satisfied, licking her bottom lip after like she forgot who was watching.

Connor shifted next to her, jaw tense, silent. I smiled to myself. Tapped away on my phone like I wasn’t soaking in every second.

“My baby just greedy,” I said, glancing up briefly, voice light.

Her friends across the table lost it—trying to hide their grins behind lemonades and fries, giving each other that look. Like they were watching a romcom where the villain boyfriend didn’t know he was about to get replaced.

Caitlin was laughing too, trying to play it off, but her shoulders relaxed every time I touched her. Like clockwork.

Connor finally spoke. “Didn’t know you were sharing.” I didn’t even look at him.

“She always eats off my plate,” I said, casually. “Says mine tastes better.”

Caitlin didn’t correct me.She was too busy sipping my drink.

He stared at the way she held the straw with two fingers, her pinky grazing the rim—her tongue tracing the top like she was teasing me in public. I knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose. Which somehow made it worse for him. Better for me.

“She could’ve ordered one,” he muttered.

“She likes mine,” I said, still scrolling, smug as hell. “Don’t you, Cait?”

“Yeah,” she said, softly. “It’s fine.”

I tilted my head. “Just fine?”

She looked at me. We both knew what I was really asking. Her smile slipped a little. Got shyer. “Better than mine.” Connor looked like he was about to crush his fork in half.

I just kept scrolling. Cool. Unbothered. Winning.

⸻

Halftime hit like a bullet. Whistle blew, lights flashed, crowd on their feet—but my eyes never left Caitlin. Twenty-two points deep, sweat soaking through her jersey, high pony sticking to her neck. She was locked in all quarter, hitting threes like it was light work, jaw clenched in that way she only gets when she’s trying to prove something. And yet, even in the chaos, she found time to look for him.

Connor.

He was down by the tunnel like he always is—hat backwards, hands in his pockets, pretending like he’s the kind of boyfriend who shows up and means something. And she—sweet thing—jogged over to him. Still panting, still lit up from the court, smile tugging at her lips like she forgot who she was walking up to. But the moment she reached him, he leaned back. Grimaced. Wiped his hand on his jeans like she was a spilled drink.

“You’re all sweaty,” he said, barely touching her arm.

Caitlin’s face twitched, like she was trying not to let it show. She nodded, turned, and that’s when she saw me.

I was leaning on the barrier. Hoodie half-zipped, gold chain out, rings glinting under the lights. Cool as ever. Didn’t call her over. Didn’t move. Just raised a brow and tilted my chin like, C’mon, baby. Don’t play with me.

She didn’t hesitate.

Crossed the space like it didn’t matter who was watching. Like cameras weren’t on her. Like Connor hadn’t just embarrassed the fuck out of her for being the star of the game.

“C’mere, mama,” I said as soon as she got close, arms already open. “You think I give a damn about a little sweat? You Caitlin fucking Clark. You supposed to sweat.”

She melted into me. Right there. Wrapped her arms around my neck like second nature, forehead resting against mine, breath hot. I grabbed her hips, pulled her in closer, let her rest. Didn’t care who saw. Didn’t care if her little situation was still watching. And yeah, he was. Eyes tight, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

I kissed her cheek and whispered, “You know where home is.” She didn’t say anything. But she didn’t pull away either.

⸻

We were out celebrating the win, and everyone looked good—fresh, dressed, glittered with that post-victory glow. Even Caitlin. Especially Caitlin. Hair curled, lashes long, lips glossy in a way that made it hard to think. She was radiant. She always is. And even if she rolled in mud before showing up, I’d still want her in my lap, on my lips, under my skin. I’d inject her into my bloodstream if I could—but that’s the crazy talking.

So instead, I just said “fuck it.”

The whole night. No hesitation.

From the moment we walked in, I didn’t give her space. My arm stayed around her waist like it was born there. Every time she tried to sit down, I pulled her onto my thigh instead. Every time she laughed at something someone else said, I leaned in and said something filthier under my breath to steal it back. She didn’t push me off. She never does. If anything, she leaned into it—body soft, breath hitching, eyes shining like she didn’t even realize what she was giving me.

And Connor? Oh, he saw everything.

He was at the end of the table—left out, watching us from two seats away like he was part of the team but not with her. Not really. Because she wasn’t reaching for his hand. She wasn’t touching his knee under the table. She wasn’t whispering in his ear.

Nah, that was all me.

I fed her from my fork again. Wiped her lip with my thumb and kissed it clean. When she got up to go to the bathroom, I tugged her back by the waistband of her jeans, just to kiss her temple first. “Don’t be long, baby,” I said. “I miss you already.”

⸻

She giggled. Giggled. And walked off like I hadn’t just claimed her with a sentence.

Her friends? Eating it up. Laughing, watching like they were waiting for someone to explode.

And him? Connor’s knuckles were white around his glass. He didn’t say shit. Didn’t move. Didn’t even try.

Because deep down, he knew. She wasn’t fighting me. She never had.

He pulled her aside during dessert.

Not that far—just a few steps away from the booth, like he was trying to keep the drama contained. But the tension in his voice? That shit cracked through the music and the laughter like a mic drop no one asked for.

“I just feel like you’ve changed.”

Caitlin tilted her head, calm. “Okay.”

He blinked. “You’re not even gonna argue?”

“No.”

“…So that’s it? We’re done?”

She nodded, simple. “Yeah. We been done.”

His mouth opened, closed. He looked confused. Like she was supposed to cry, or fight for him, or say she didn’t mean it. He took a half-step forward, brows furrowed like he was going to say something—

But then I called, “You done, babe?” from the booth, legs wide, arms slung across the backrest like a fucking throne. Caitlin turned. Walked straight over. Didn’t look back.

Climbed onto my lap like her seat was never at that table to begin with. My hands found her thighs instantly, fingers sliding under the hem of her dress. I smiled, big and slow, eyes flicking past her to Connor, who still hadn’t moved.

“You good, man?” I asked, voice dripping with mock concern. “You look kinda pale.”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because Caitlin was already leaning in, whispering something in my ear that made me groan low and pull her even closer. I kissed her neck, didn’t even try to hide it, and when she laughed—real and full like she hadn’t just been dumped—his face cracked.

Too late. She’s mine now. And the best part? She never looked sad. Not even once.

[galaxy-stardust]

Task Force 141 x you

"What in the unholy hell is dark romance?!"

The safehouse was, for once, quiet.

Rain tapped steadily at the windows. Thunder rolled in the distance like a lazy growl.

Price sat in the armchair with his feet up, sipping tea and reading a newspaper like a war-hardened grandfather.

Gaz was on the couch, headphones half in, scrolling.

You were curled in a blanket on the opposite side, legs tucked under, cup of tea warming your hands.

Ghost stood leaning against the far wall. Silent. Watching. Present in that way only he could be - still as a shadow with a pulse.

Soap, unfortunately, was bored.

Dangerously bored.

“Oi,” he called across the room to Gaz, breaking the peace. “I need that video again - the one with the goat screaming like a man. You know the one.”

Gaz looked up, confused. “...What?”

“The goat! It screams, and someone edited it into a metal song. You showed me last week.”

Gaz blinked. “You mean the one with the caption ‘me escaping my toxic romance’?”

“Aye! That one!”

He went back to scrolling.

Two minutes of blessed silence passed.

Then -

“…Wait... the fuck is this?”

Soap froze, thumb hovering over his screen.

Then blinked.

Then scrolled again.

“…Uh. What in the unholy hell is dark romance?”

You froze mid-sip.

Oh no.

Ghost didn’t move, but you felt him tune in.

Gaz looked up again. “Sounds like a perfume. Like... a really expensive, pretentious one.”

Price grunted from behind his paper. “Thought it was one of your metal bands.”

Soap ignored them, brows furrowed as he kept scrolling. “Why are there book covers now? With… masked men and half-naked women?” He flipped the phone around. “Why is this one called ‘Chained to the Reaper’? This is NOT about goats!”

Even Price looked up now, brows raised.

Ghost’s arms crossed, his gaze sharpening.

“I searched for a meme,” Soap said slowly, “and now I’m knee-deep on some site with star ratings and lists like -” he squinted, “- ‘Top 10 Dark Romance Alpha Bastards That Will Ruin Your Life.’ What does that even mean?!”

You looked over your mug, playing innocent. “Oh. Yeah. That’s a thing.”

Soap stared at you. “You knew?!”

You shrugged. “I’m a woman, Johnny. Of course I know this exists.”

He looked betrayed.

“This one - ” He turned the phone again, showing a half-naked man gripping a woman’s chin. The man wore a skull mask. “The title is ‘Ruined by the Reaper: A Possessive Obsession.’ Who’s reading this filth?!”

Gaz lost it. “I guess, you’ve fallen into the masked alpha rabbit hole, mate.”

Price groaned. “Can’t have one night of peace.”

Soap scrolled again, reading aloud. “‘She ran. He hunted. Now she belongs to him - even if it breaks her.’ BLOODY HELL. This is romance?!”

You sipped your tea. “Not my thing.”

Gaz raised a brow. “Sure about that? You’re looking a little too calm.”

You gave a sly smile. “Some people like intensity.”

Soap looked horrified. “Intensity?! This reads like Stockholm Syndrome with a subscription plan!”

Ghost’s shoulder twitched. It might have been a laugh.

Soap scrolled more, muttering. “NO BLOODY WAY. This one’s about a billionaire with a soundproof basement. ‘She signed the contract. Now she obeys.’ Someone get me holy water. GAZ! Get me holy water and a bloody priest.”

Gaz was doubled over now, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

“Read one,” you said sweetly.

“I will not - ”

“Do it,” Ghost said. Low. Amused.

Soap blinked. “Did you just - ? You’re encouraging this?!”

Ghost said nothing.

Which made it worse.

Soap groaned, then read dramatically:

“‘His breath was a brand, searing my neck. You’re mine, he growled, the mask hiding all but the feral gleam in his eyes. You don’t run from me. I tried to move, but the cuffs bit into my wrists. My heart beat traitorously as heat pooled low - ’”

“OH MY GOD.” Soap flung the phone away. “I am traumatised. PRICE, SAY SOMETHING.”

Price, not even hiding his exhaustion, muttered, “I need a bloody transfer.”

“There’s fan art. There’s audiobooks. GHOST, BACK ME UP HERE - this is insane, yeah?”

Ghost’s voice was calm. “Sounds like solid tactics to me.”

Soap froze. “...What?”

“Shock. Control. Psychological pressure.” Ghost shrugged. “Useful tools.”

“YOU’RE the reason these exist! This is YOUR FAULT!”

You tried and failed to hold back a laugh. “He does tick a lot of boxes.”

“Don’t start.” Soap groaned.

Gaz wheezed. “You’re living in a fanfic and didn’t know it.”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

You looked back at Ghost.

He was close now. Closer than you expected.

Voice low, just for you:

“…You sure you don’t like that sort of thing?”

You hesitated. “I don’t need it.”

“But?” His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“…It’s fun. Sometimes.”

A pause.

“…Noted.”

Soap shouted, “There’s one called ‘Marked by the Mask.’ IT’S A GENRE. There’s reader-insert?! I am in hell.”

Price stood up. “I need liquor.”

Soap was scrolling again, reading another in a voice filled with pure panic:

“‘He was sitting on the edge of the bed, cleaning his knife - slowly, deliberately. She teased him again, just to watch that vein in his neck pulse. He didn’t speak. Just smiled behind the mask and whispered, Keep going, sweetheart. Let’s see how brave you really are.’”

Silence.

Soap stared at the screen, stunned. “Okay. No. NOPE. That’s it. I’m out.”

Gaz was gasping for air from laughing.

Price pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why am I here?”

You weren’t laughing.

Because when you turned your head, Ghost was watching you again - still as stone. Shoulders faintly tense. Blade in hand, thumb slowly tracing the spine in that idle way he always did when his thoughts ran too deep.

He caught your gaze.

Tilted his head - just a little.

“That one,” he murmured, voice like dark silk, “had potential.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I already did.”

[juliettejwnewinesa]

Heyaaa author-nim!! I love your stories very much and i would like to request another one:))

Park humin(baku) x reader where they're a couple and one day a boy talked to y/n and she's kinda oblivous about it. So when baku and her got home (to their apartment) baku suddenly starts being possessive(cuz he is) and jealous making out w y/n . If it's not too much i want full smut and baku overstimulating reader REALLY BAD🙏🙏🙏to the point she would starts crying and whimpering to stop but park humin still doesn't stop until he fucks her for hours

(Your fanfics makes me giggle and kick my feet...)

Thank you for your hard work!

-koita

❝You're Mine—Say It Again❞

Pairing: Park Humin (Baku) x Reader Word Count: ~7.5k

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

Y/N didn’t even notice the guy flirting with her.

It was some stranger from the convenience store near campus—tall, boring, polite smile. He asked her something about a drink in the fridge, and she answered, clueless, her expression open and kind the way it always was. The guy lingered longer than necessary. Laughing too hard. Standing a little too close.

Park Humin noticed.

He stood a few feet away, jaw tight, pretending to scroll through his phone while watching the scene like it was a slow car crash. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. His silence was loud enough to smother the air.

Y/N, oblivious as ever, just turned around after paying, all sunshine and innocence. “We got the snacks for movie night!” she said with a grin.

Humin didn’t smile back.

The walk home was quiet. Humin’s hand was in hers, but he wasn’t squeezing. He was usually so touchy—kisses on her cheek, hand on her waist, warm breath in her ear whispering filth when no one was looking.

Tonight, he was cold.

Y/N peeked up at him. “Are you mad about something?”

He didn’t answer. Just opened the apartment door, let her in, then locked it behind them with a solid click.

That sound hit her gut in the weirdest way.

As soon as the door shut, he was on her.

Humin shoved her back against it, mouth on hers, tongue hot and angry. He kissed her like he needed to own every inch of her mouth—biting, pulling, claiming. Y/N gasped into him, confused but clinging tight.

“H-Humin—wait, what—”

“You didn’t even notice,” he growled against her lips, voice low and rough. “That bastard in the store. Looking at you like he had a chance.”

She blinked, dazed. “What guy—?”

He laughed. Dark. Dangerous.

“Exactly.”

His hands slid up her thighs and under her skirt without hesitation, pushing fabric aside until her panties were in the way—and then those were gone, yanked down to her knees like an inconvenience.

“H-Humin—wait, I don’t—”

“You’re mine,” he said, like a curse. “You don’t even get it, do you? How fucking pretty you are. Smiling like that. Talking to other men. Like you’re not taken.”

His teeth grazed her jaw. “You are taken, baby. Fucking claimed.”

She whimpered as he lifted her up, thighs around his waist. Her back hit the door. His cock, already straining against his pants, pressed right against her bare core through the fabric.

“I-I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t care,” he hissed. “You’re gonna learn tonight.”

He didn’t take her to the bed.

He slammed her onto the couch. Stripped off her clothes like he was mad at them. Shoved her onto her hands and knees, chest pressed to the cushions.

“Stay there,” he growled, yanking his shirt off. “Ass up. You know how I want you.”

Y/N’s skin flushed hot with embarrassment—but her core throbbed in response. She obeyed.

When he sank into her, it was without warning. Just one brutal thrust that made her cry out—his cock thick, heavy, stretching her open mercilessly.

“Oh my—H-Humin—!”

“You feel that?” he panted, bottoming out. “No one else gets this. No one else gets to fuck you. Just me. Say it.”

“Y-You, only you—!”

“That’s fucking right.”

He started moving. Rough, possessive thrusts. Slamming into her with no mercy, one hand gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, the other tangled in her hair, pulling her back against him.

Slap—slap—slap.

The sound of skin on skin was filthy. His balls hit her clit every time he bottomed out.

“You like getting used, huh?” he grunted. “You like when I fuck you dumb? You like when I fuck the attitude outta you?”

“Y-Yes! Yes—please, don’t stop—!”

“I’m not fucking stopping.”

He didn’t.

He flipped her over after the first round. Bent her legs to her chest and fucked her again. Slow at first, just to tease—but it didn’t last. His control snapped when he saw the way her tits bounced, the way her pussy gushed around his cock, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Fucking slut,” he groaned, cock twitching inside her. “You’re dripping, baby. Can’t even hold me in.”

She cried out, shaking.

“I—can’t—it’s too much—!”

“Too bad.”

He pinned her down and fucked her harder. His eyes were wild—obsessed. Lost. She came again and again, body trembling, legs twitching.

Still, he didn’t stop.

Two orgasms turned into three. Four. Six.

Y/N was crying now, gasping, sobbing against the cushions. Her voice was hoarse. “H-Humin—please—please, I can’t—I’m gonna—gonna pass out—!”

“You’ll take it,” he snapped. “You’re gonna take every drop I give you.”

Her pussy was raw, soaked, stretched wide. Cum dripped out of her onto the sheets, mixed with slick and spit. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably. Her stomach bulged faintly with every deep thrust.

Still—he kept going.

He fucked her into the mattress, then into the floor, then back onto the couch. Different positions. No break. No breath. Just him, and her, and the sweat-slick sounds of their bodies slamming together again and again.

Eventually, he came inside her—hard.

Warm, thick, endless.

“Take it, take it, fuck—yeah, that’s it. You’re mine, baby. Gonna fill you up until you fucking leak.”

Her cunt spasmed around him as she came again, shaking.

And still, he didn’t pull out.

It was hours later when he finally slowed.

Her body was boneless. Her face was wet with tears. Her voice was ruined.

He kissed her forehead then—so soft. So tender.

“You okay?” he whispered, brushing sweaty hair out of her face.

She nodded weakly, still dazed.

He smiled—possessive, satisfied, but full of love.

“Good. Because I’m not done yet.”

He pushed back in.

And began again.

END.

[orbitalpython]

────────ღೋღ And now I know my heart is a ghost town.ღೋღ─────────

It was a surprise to be sure but it shocked the 3 nonetheless.

"RAAGh! How! How could the GIW get away with this." Sam shouted as Danny continued to suture her wounds. "It's not FAIR!"

"Calm down, your only going to make this harder Sam." Danny said his own wounds slowly closing on their own. "it's not like we would've gotten help either way, plus the distress beacon wasn't very smart."

"How can you say that Danny? That kryptonian should've heard it at least!" Sam protested loudly. " We've been waiting for months Danny! HECK, the whole 'Justice league' should have come! But NOooo they apparently have so much better things to be doing."

"Well can you blame them? They are pretty preoccupied with fostering the newer generation of heros. Even their own rogues are getting more dangerous." Tucker said wincing he puts a little to much pressure on his arm. " And the GIW are pretty effective at blocking information."

The 3 sat in silence with only the nearby neon sign of a abandoned speakeasy and scurrying rats giving any life to the alley way. They had been captured and tortured by the GIW for information regarding Danny's ghost half.

"Aaannd... there... that... that should hold up. I-I think." Danny said looking over Sams stitching one last time. "W- w- what do we do now?"

Tucker looked Danny over. "What do you mean?" Danny slid down to his knees curling in on himself a sob in his throat. "I mean... We can't go back to my place GIW is crawling all over there by now. We can't leave the GIW has blocked all exits. We can't go to the press with the information backout. And..."

"We can't go to the police because there hasn't been a serious crime in Amity in over 50 years... I- I want Jazz." Danny said now crying into his blood soaked pants.

Neither Sam nor Tucker spoke the two knowing that everything Danny has said is true (and then some). But a shared thought came between the two. "How about... Ah! How about we make the GIW regret ever stepping foot inside Amity." " An- an- and how do we do that?"

"By becoming reapers." Sam stated. "Remember the tales about Death? y'know Grim Reaper, Joe Black, La Muerte, Lord Death, The Grim Reaper." "Yeah wh- wh- what about it?" Danny responded through tears. "We can get back at the GIW this way!" Tucker joined in. "What we first need is base of operations."

Soon the trio had a plan. "Ok so here's the agreed upon plan so...

Fake our deaths

Target GIW randomly

???

Profit

Ok everything ready?"

"Clothing wear and tear proof?" "Check." "Weapons?" "Check." "newfound immortality?" "Check." "Amazing abilities?" "Check." "Eternal youth?" "Check." "Eldritch shapeshifting abilities?" "Uuuhhhh... Check."

"Wow we are ahead of schedule Danny." Tucker said swiveling in his chair "What I didn't expect is that the GIW were targeting the common folk. Huh? Suns up now spent the whole day planning huh?

Soon tomorrow came and with it the plan. Sam, Danny and Tucker knew what tomorrow was. The GIW's reveal of who Phantom really is. The 3 knew the GIW figured it out but faking their deaths would put the GIW in for a loop. "Is the anonymous call ready?" "Yep." Tucker replied popping the p.

∘₊✧─────────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

"Danny oh fuck. Oh motherfucker." "I- I- I- I did- I didn't mean to." "Danny what the hell." "I FORGOT HUMANS WERE WEAK OK?!?!" The body of Dashes father lay motionless a long thick blade protruding from his skull. "AAAAHHH!" "AHHH! DANNY QUICK KILL HIM AGAIN!"

After a day or two the 3 had the GIW out of town plus a couple hundred dead Amity Parkers on their criminal record.

"Uuugghhh... Danny can you do something about the sun pleaseeee?" Sam drawled out. "The heat is killing me." Tucker chuckled at the thought. "Yeah and do what exactly about it? He's not Vortex."

"Actually. I think I might be able to do something about that." Danny stated. "Wha- How?" "Watch." Danny replied with a smirk.

Soon the entirety of Amity Park was covered in thick unending clouds.

"Hmm. Man you guys we really made a ghost town huh?"

╞═════════════════════════𖠁𐂃𖠁════════════════════════╡

Ghost Town- DCxDP

𐋅ቹ𐌋የ ፱𐌔 𐌔ቹ𐌍ጋ 𐋅ቹ𐌋የ

It was a distorted message that was sent through the Watchtower's transmitter.

It took a while but they were able to sort out that it was an emergency signal. It took longer to locate it. A solid month.

A small town I'm the middle of nowhere. Amityville. The place was desolate.

The entrance to the town was barricaded with old rotten wood. The streets were empty like one of those zombie movies. Cars were just left in the middle of the road. No one was there.

The place felt off. The sky was constantly overcast and the sun didn't want to shine. The nights, however, were worse.

It was left to Batman, Robin, Red Robin, Flash, and Wonder Woman to handle the situation with the the rest of the main team having to deal with a bigger threat in Star City with Green Arrow. A shame because they needed Superman right now.

They needed to locate survives and quickly. They had lost so much time.

Luck was on their side because they located a signal in a small underground bunker.

The people who were there looked worst for wear but they were alive.

"Thank God you are here! Tell us you can get us out of here." One blond teen boy said frantically.

"We'll do everything we can. Tell us what happened. What happened to this town." Diam said putting a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder.

"It started when a few students went missing. They showed up as bodies the next day. We thought they were these guys in white suits but they up and left so fast. Then the blocked off the exits. Ever since these people in cloaks would just come out at night and hunt us. They took almost everyone." A blonde girl said.

"We don't know who's left." A middle age man said. "We do know that they don't come out during the day at least."

Awful. It sounded like they where being tormented by some kind of gang of serial killers.

They decided to scout out the area and set up to search when night came.

When the sun went down or when they were sure it would be down the hunt began.

There was a rustle in the woods and the sound of feet rushing towards their location. Then they stopped. Then laughter. Then running in several different directions.

Flash went first as he followed the sound. But he realized too late that he was in a race. He couldn't see with who but he heard footsteps that matched his.

"Your pretty fast." The voice said before Flash felt a slash go through his side and a silver flash of a sickle cross his vision.

Back at the bunker, another hooded figure circled back. In their hand they swung a chain scythe by its chain in a circle. They seemed to be waiting as they stood on a tree branch above them.

"What is your goal?! Why are you hunting the people here?!" Diana yelled that the figure.

The figures laughed. Her voice was unmistakable as a young. Then she threw her chained blade at Diana. It missed and hit the ground next to her. As Diana grabbed to the chain to pull the girl down it burned her hand like acid and she let go in a moment of surprise. Then just as quickly the chain was retracted and the tip of the blade nicked Wonder Woman's shoulder and it burned with searing pain.

Poison.

The girl laughed and she fled backwards through the trees and fled. Diana had not real choice but to chase her for the antidote. She knew that Barry would be back any moment and Batman and the Robins still outnumbered the enemy. It was a gamble but Batman nodded and she felt secure enough to go.

Then there was nothing. Not a sound or sign of friend or foe. They guarded the bunker trying to contact the others. They could go after them and leave the bunker unsecured but that seemed to be the goal of the killers.

And there was another. They heard it. Three sets of footsteps.

Damian seemed especially on edge. Tim was struggling to get a signal as every piece of tech he used was only getting static. He had been able to dig up a little info. This whole town seemed to be stuck in the 90s though. He had to use what records could be scavenged from the town hall. Which gave him very little. But he found the start of the killings. Three teens were found dead, presumed murdered on the eve of an important unveiling.

"Hey there." A voice said behind him.

Damian had already drawn his sword as his blade crashed against a heavy reaping scythe.

"Your quick. Not quick enough." The hooded figure said pushing back with enough force to make Damian crash into Tim.

Immediately Batman threw a few batterangs at the figure who waved his scythe and caused them to clatter against the silver blade.

"It's over. We are finished with our work." The figure said with a hint of amusement as he took off his hood at last.

Before them stood a teenage boy with powder white hair and blood stains on his face. The bunker door was open and it was clear that he had already got in and found his targets. They were dead.

He whistled and the other two figures appeared dragging the missing heroes along with them.

"We haven't had a chase like that in forever." Another boy's voice said dragging Flash behind him.

"I thought you said you hated running after them." The girl said dropping the chained up Diana on the ground.

"I started to miss it." The boy shrugged.

"Who are you?" Batman said clenching his fist.

"Eh? Reapers, I guess." The white haired boy said.

"Wait...you guys are those murdered teens. You guys were alive all this time and just murdered everyone in time. It is some kind of vengeance?" Tim accused.

"So nosy." The hooded boy said. "Who cares about that."

"Tuck, be nice. They are just curious." The white-haired boy said nudging his shoulder. "We are just cleaning up. These people are dead already. Long dead. Haven't you realized?"

Suddenly things clicked into place. The town was abandoned. Despite everything the bunker was still fully stocked but untouched. The technology didn't work and was too old to be usable. The city hall didn’t have anything remotely recent. Why had no one been able to escape the town if they couldn't even leave?

But that doesn't make any sense. Who can they talk to dead people? No, this had to be a lie.

But then the figures disappeared and the bunker was empty.

[sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game]

Fuck you thunderbolts headcannons. Cause I have so many and I cannot keep them to myself anymore.

Before we get started, it's important to note that the end cut scene means next to nothing to me. The russo brothers wrote that, so I do not care.

John chews tobacco. Did it for a bit as a kid but quit so he'd be healthy in the army. Once he took the serum and Lemar (Who was a huge influence on John quitting) died he started again because he knew it wouldn't necessarily kill him anymore.

Bucky still smokes on occasion. Not as much as he used to back in the 40s because he's been told how bad it is for him now and also because the taste has changed too much for him.

Yelena actually doesn't like vodka that much, she mainly drinks it because it reminds her of her family.

Alexei can cook in theory. The problem comes in the fact that he can only cook prison food.

Similar story with Bob but instead of prison food it's broke/high food. I'm talking spaghetti noodles with ketchup and hotdogs.

Not all of them are medicated but God they probably should be.

As a group they have a call and response codeword to check how bad they're feeling.

Goes something a little like this.

Call: Light levels?

Bad response: Low

Good response: High

At first, it was just for Bob until Bob used it for someone else, and then it spread to an entire team thing.

Someone has genuinely said something to the effect of "Yeah, but he's our asshole" about John before. Probably Bucky.

Every mission has a situation in which one team member has to reign in another one. At least once, the highest count was 15 times in one mission.

One time, the tower had a group watch of a JFK assassination documentary, and Bucky had to jump in and correct dozens of different mistakes.

Bob is super into Dungeons and Dragons but has never gotten to play. Instead he likes watching/listening to actual play shows.

Whenever someone is looking way too tense Alexei takes them to the training room and helps them punch it out. Via sparing or using left over boxing mits. This works a surprising amount of time

Alexei also has very strong opinions on American boxing.

They have collectively broken. So much furniture. Honestly most of the time it's an accident but still.

John only drinks really really strong coffee, everyone else in the tower puts something in it to offset the taste but it's just like straight jet fuel. This only becomes everyone else's problem because John is always the first person awake enough to make coffee in the morning.

Bob in contrast can't even have the most sugary taste covering coffee because somehow it will still taste bitter to him. No matter whats in it.

Ava is a coffee creamer girly but doesn't add extra sugar. Yelena in contrast doesn't like creamer but does add at least two spoons of sugar to every cup she drinks.

Ava loves pumpkin spice, Bucky also does but not as much and in secret. When Ava found out about this they started going to get coffee just the two of them to gossip.

One time they got lost in the wilderness post mission and while waiting for a pickup were arguing about what they were gonna eat. John pulls out like 10 MRE's. No one knew he had these on him and he claims to always be carrying at least one.

Alpine does live in the tower. Bucky just walks around the tower with Alpine hanging out in his jacket. It took a solid few days for the team to realize that the cat existed.

Alexei is allergic and does not care he will snuggle with the cat anyways.

Ava once got stuck on the couch for two hours with Alpine on her lap before just phasing out underneath them cause she felt guilty about trying to stand up.

Yelena did get a second guinea pig to keep the one she rescued company. Their names are Mak and Cheese.

Mak 100% has superpowers. There's a betting pool on what they are but Mak has not revealed them yet.

Fanny does not live in the tower, and is still staying with Kate Bishop. Yelena just worries she won't have enough time for a more active pet. Because Mak, Cheese and Alpine are all pretty self sufficient.

Ava likes to start games of tag and then phase through multiple walls to get away.

They once had a week long game of tag in which towards the end they were actually on a mission. Game only ended because the person who was 'it' last got injured.

Due to the fact that each of their serums are different the super soldiers are usually guessing what the other ones are like. Non super soldiers think they are the same but they do in fact have minor differences that really only matter to themselves, other super soldiers, and people trying to recreate the serum. The serum seems to be defined by the following things: Strength, durability, speed, agility, stamina, reflexes, and healing factor. (I personally would combine speed, agility and stamina but what do I know) ((Personally heightened senses should also be thrown in the mix but those are whats on the wiki))

As for how the three super soldiers of the Thunderbolts obviously they have all of these categories but: Alexei's serum gives him slightly better durability and healing factor, John's is mostly in speed, agility and stamina, and Bucky's falls more into strength and reflexes. It would be very close in all categories if they somehow were competing but those are the categories I think they would slightly better in. As for senses I think Alexei has the least best and John has the best best. All of them have crazy senses but John is the one who faintly hears heartbeats when standing next to people I fear.

When Clint found out Yelena was living in the old avengers tower he called her to tell her about all the old secret places he and Natasha had. As well as any other secrets that he remembered. Some of them were gone but most of them were still around.

The most popular nickname for John other then just straight up calling him an asshole is "Captain Taco John" or just "Taco John" he thinks Yelena started it but it was actually Alexei.

They've been banned from every axe throwing place on the East Coast. New ones that open on that side of the country get called by competitors warning them in advance.

John and Bob learned that no one else on the team had been to a waffle house before and then demanded they go.

When they finally did go post mission they found out that Bob is banned from most waffle houses in Florida and lower Georgia for reasons he cannot remember.

John is literally the worst liar once you get to know him. Like literally the most obvious tells in the world. No one tells him this though so he still thinks he's a decent liar.

Alexei did sign up to be a mall Santa one time. Yelena ended up being one of the elf helpers.

Yelena and Bucky are tied for most languages spoken on the team, with Ava in third and Bob in last.

Bob is learning how to speak Russian though.

Bucky threatens to shave his head whenever the others are up to crazy shit. Says it'd be faster then having to pull his hair out.

Bucky has a large collection of second hand paperbacks from the bookstore.

The most genuine everyone on the entire team has ever been is when they did secret Santa and everyone actually tried. It wasn't even like a requirement they all independently decided to try.

John talks to Lemar's parents but not his own. I refuse to believe that man had a good relationship with his parents look at him. He's a people pleaser and in the few scenes we get of him in Georgia I believe he doesn't even bring them up let alone go see them.

John has a weekly phone call from Lemar's parents. The others find out when they overhear him talking about them. Though he leaves out a lot of big and scary details as not to worry them. Actual quotes from this phone call "Mama they're all awful awful people." < said with a smile his face and heard through his voice proceeded immediately with "Of course I'm keeping em fed Ma'am they're all so bad at cookin'."

You can pry John Walker with a covered up southern accent from my cold dead hands. That man is from Georgia for petes sake. He tries to keep in understated because people in the military took him less seriously with the accent.

All of the group has a habit of talking with one another's accents which gets so brutal when two of them are Russian, one of them is British, two of them are southern, and the last one is a New Yorker.

Out of all of them the only one who has been able to defuse a bomb is Ava. Yelena is an explosives expert but only at setting them up. This comes up as a problem far more then you would think.

John, Ava, and Yelena are banned from having the remote while watching action movies because they will pause the movie and talk about the weapons/tactics being used for thirty minutes before continuing the movie. Only to do it again 5 minutes later.

Yknow that one episode of Phineas and Ferb where doctor doofinsmirtz is trying desperately to get this doll his daughter wanted when she was a child? Alexei did the same thing. To the point he went off grid for two days and came back just before the team was gonna go looking for him. Showed up covered in blood and bruises holding this pristine little doll out to her.

Yelena treasures that doll. It has special shelf in her bedroom. Though she did tell Alexei that if he ever pulled some shit like that again she'd beat his ass.

They all honestly did not want to get super close to each other at first. But when you live and work together for any significant amount of time you're bound to just start knowing shit about those people that you don't expect to know.

Also every single relationship between all of them was super rocky and unstable for a long time and still kind of are. Lots of things are going unspoken that probably shouldn't be but they're working it out together one thing at a time.

All of them know that the other people on the team are smart but sometimes it's easy to forget just how scarily competent your teammates are when they do weird dumb shit all the time at home.

Bucky is most of the teams emergency contact. Bucky's emergency contact is still Sam.

The first time any of them called the Watchtower home was when Yelena was a little delirious from being injured and it caused the entire rest of the team to freeze for a moment before continuing to get her medical help. After that they all kinda started doing it.

Alexei loves learning new things about pop culture and then trying to tell the others about it like they don't know. This would be more annoying if he wasn't right and most of them they actually did not know about it.

All of them have such wildly inconsistent pain tolerances that they find it hard to tell when one of them is actually injured or not.

Ava is still in contact with Bill Foster who upon hearing about the New Avengers travels to New York to figure out what is going on and if she's ok.

Ava also still has the teddy bear that Bill gave her.

They've given each other the most fucked up parody high school superlatives. John got worst post nightmare reaction, Bucky got most targeted weapon in a fight, Alexei got most likely to be a PR nightmare, Ava got least likely to break something important, Yelena got least likely to derail the mission to fight someone, and Bob got most likely to have the most randomly useful knowledge.

All of them are bad drivers, but the only ones actually authorized to drive are Alexei, Bucky, and John. Yelena always drives like she's in a car chase even when she definitely isn't, Ava never learned how to drive and doesn't want to because she's scared of phasing through the vehicle, and Bob also never learned how to drive properly (he can drive in theory, not as much in practice). As for why the other three are shitty drivers, despite owning a driving business I refuse to believe Alexei knows American driving laws, Bucky is still learning how modern vehicles work (other then motercycles he's got those down), and John drives like every vehicle is a military jeep aka borderline indestructible and very clunky.

The entire team actually hates being called the Avengers. Most of them are hoping Sam wins the copyright case, if not sometimes doing shit to try and help the case. Bucky in particular is trying to separate them from the government.

The relationship between the team and Valentina is very much one of mutual destruction. Both sides have social and physical ammo stashed away for the second the other side turns.

On missions they usually are joking around at least a little bit but the second anyone even might be hurt they all turn into the most serious scary motherfuckers. This also applies to people they work with on occasion, like Kate.

Sometimes the group have complete mind meld moments. Like full on don't even need to say a goddamn word because the other person already knows what you're asking them to do and is on it.

One time they ran into Sam while on a secret mission and he happened to be looking rough at the time. The last two things happened and scared the shit out of him if he's being honest.

One time in an interview someone asked if they would slap one of their teammates for a hundred dollars. Bucky responded that he gets to throw John out of windows for free. Johns only response to this was a shrug.

It's generally agreed upon that Ava is the scariest person on the team. She takes this honor and title very seriously.

Bob is the king of dropping the craziest shit you have ever heard mid conversation and then moving on.

Yelena loves rock climbing, borderline could do it competitively. There's a specific rock climbing gym nearby the tower that she becomes a regular at.

Ava has a label maker but she basically never uses it to organize things. Instead using it to write out short jokes/insults and sticks them to people, walls, doors, and one memorable time the ceiling.

Ava is a Paris Paloma listener. Her favorites are Labour and The Fruits.

One time Bucky used his detached arm like a baseball bat to knock an explosive away from them. The entire rest of the team proceeded to turn to look at him like he was crazy.

Honestly they all own far too many weapons. Like entire stores worth of weapons. They're scattered literally everywhere through the main areas of the tower, their bedrooms, and on their persons. It's mainly an issue because you have no idea if when you open something there's gonna be a fucking knife or a gun in there.

It is considered a big deal(tm) if someone hands you one of their weapons. Even if it's like trading or they just don't like/use it anymore.

John is a competent engineer and could fully fix/reverse the tacoificafion of his shield. For the first few months it a matter of pride on why he doesn't just fix it but after the like third injury because he isn't working with it right they have an intervention and he gets a new one.

There have been multiple arguments that span days at a time over tea. When the topic of any kind of tea comes up John 'what do you mean you've never had sweet tea' Walker and Ava 'Do none of you own a fucking kettle' Starr do have to be separated.

As much as they all work together really well. No one is as ride or die for each other as the 4 from the vault. Do not get it twisted they fight like cats and dogs but they are the only ones allowed to do that with each other.

Bucky is still trying to convince basically the entire team that he did not kill Princess Diana.

All of them collectively truly do not know how to be normal people not a single one of them. It is. Very noticeable.

Bob is one of those guys that has too many hobbies. They worry about him getting bored when he's at the tower alone but really he now just has access to so many things to do so many more hobbies then before so he is keeping his hands busy.

A byproduct of this is that Bob actually gives so many gifts to others. A good percentage of their decor is just stuff Bob has made or found.

He's also trying to get the others into having actual hobbies that aren't things like weapons training and jumping off buildings. It's been semi successful for the most part.

Bob actually isn't all that keen on physical touch, both because he doesn't want to send people into the void and because he just really is not used to it. It takes a while for him to even get used to pats on the back.

All of them have at least been arrested in the states before. They have a bail money fund at this point cause they keep accidentally getting involved in things they should not be involved in.

The reason most people just almost automatically default to calling Bucky Bucky is because he genuinely just looks so awkward and a little uncomfortable when you call him literally anything else. Barnes is ok ish but like. If you call him James he kinda just looks at you until you like feel the need to correct yourself. This is because when he initially started to break through the mind control the first name he'd been called other then the winter soldier in 70 ish years was Bucky.

Physical touch is also a big deal for everyone, mainly cause it has so many different meanings. When Ava touches you its either her reassuring herself that she can be solid or it's checking that the person she's touching is not about to fall apart. When Bucky touches you it's either to reassure the person he's touching that he's there to help or it's him trying to keep them from doing something stupid. When Alexei touches you it's him making sure the person has a pulse by feeling it in whatever limb he's touching or he's trying to get them out of a situation he thinks is bad. Yelena also touches people to feel their pulse, but because of her lack of serum she has to do pulse points, or she's trying to help the person calm down and be reassuring to herself and them. John touches people to thank them without actually thanking them or he's trying to get their attention. Bob doesn't typically initiate touch unless it's to help someone out or to keep track of them and how they're doing.

People like to talk about the codependency between Yelena and Bob and don't get it twisted they are the most guilty and the peak of it but also that entire team is codependent as fuck. They barely function without each other, if one person were to die every one else would die in the process of getting revenge and or afterwards. They all have no sense of chill about each other no matter how much they all like to pretend otherwise.

Alexei actually likes to sketch and draw. He designed all of his tattoos and has no idea that this is something he has in common with the original Captain America.

[blackbaddiewithafattie88]

What would it be like to let Smoke and Stack turn you out at the same time?

Part two to this

Dear, Sweetie

Me and Smoke been crazy busy the past couple days with Prohibition and all. Had to go outta town to Louisiana to sell off some moonshine and fancy drinks. But we back in The Delta now and all’s I can think about is that creamy delight. You ain’t the first pussy I licked and sucked but you sho’ is the tastiest. You might just have to slip us your address too so we can sneak through your window and have our way wit’ you. Meet us outside the Chow’s tonight and we gon pick you up. Don’t touch that pussy. Be careful.

Stack.

You read his letter after a bath. This letter was left for you at the stall you work during the day at the farmers market. But this wasn’t the only letter. You fold Stack’s letter and hide it inside of a book that you were currently reading with your book club. Now, you settle on the bed to read Smoke’s letter

Dear, Baby Girl

Sorry we missed the chance to be wit’ you. Busy times we livin’ in. We in Clarksdale and me and Stack got plans to pick you up tonight in front of Bo and Grace black owned store. Last time Stack was being stingy with your pussy. This time he gon’ share the proper way. You taste so good baby girl. That body nice and plump like I like it. Child bearing hips and milky titties. Love that shit. Anyway, just can’t wait to see you. Be safe

Smoke.

You can’t wait. Your body is literally buzzing with desire and lust for the both of them. If someone were to tell you that you would be fucking both Smoke and Stack, you wouldn’t believe them. And yet here you are, wearing a dress that you really shouldn’t because it’s shorter than what’s appropriate. You pair it with thigh highs and your mary Jane’s again. You keep your hair long with stretched curls that draped over your shoulders. You pack a bag and give your parents a lie about how you plan to stay with a friend in town named Penelope.

Penelope was already informed and she would keep your lie for you. You’ve done the same for her since she’s been sneaking around with the twins little cousin, Sammie. Both of them attend the same church, and Penelope is set to marry someone else but she doesn’t love them. Sammie wants to skip town with her and go to Chicago. You hope all of it works out.

You make your way in town and you stand before Bo and Grace Chow’s store. The sound of an automobile approaching catches your attention. You immediately grow nervous. It’s the twins. Smoke is driving and Stack is leaning out of the car door waving to you before puckering his lips to smooch. You bat your lashes and give him a bashful wave.

“Sweetie Pie! Glad you made it.” Stack said.

Him and Smoke went to hop out the car at the same time and they both rushed over to you. You stare between them as they flare at each other to see who will help you in the car.

“She only need one of us to do it, Smoke.” Stack argues.

“Nigga, why don’t you take her bag like a gentleman. I got this.” Smoke fusses.

You hide your smile.

Stack grumbles before taking your bag. Smoke grabs you by the hand and helps you into the back seat. His hand grazes your ass, finding that you have nothing underneath. He looks down on you with heated eyes.

“Oh…you ain’t wearing bloomers?”

Stack paused, staring down at you.

“I figured it would be easier not to,” you avoid their eyes, staring down at your lap, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No no baby girl. We just happy you did it, right Stack?”

“Yeah, easier to get up in that thang. Don’t worry, you gonna be naked while at the house anyway.”

Mhm, that’s right,” Smoke said, eyes raking your body, “We plan to have a lotta sex.”

Smoke gripped your chin and kissed you. He slipped some tongue and you gave in, timid movements causing him to pull away and stare at you.

“You gotta relax, baby girl. This mouth gonna be on our fat Johnson’s tonight. So you best get used to my tongue.” Smoke said

“Let’s get on outta here. My dick churning up and it’s uncomfortable in these pants.” Stack complains.

They hop in the car, rushing off to their home. It’s a nice shack with a wrap around porch surrounded by trees. Smoke grabs your bag this time while Stack walks with you in the house. As you enter, they show you around, and then they help you get comfy. They give you moonshine for the first time and Smoke lets you puff on a cigarette. You immediately relax, and now you want to get down to business.

Smoke puts on some dirty blues music to calm you down. You all sit on the couch.

“Take the dress off, Sweetie.” Stack commands.

Smoke stands before you and removes his shirt. Stack takes off his hat and does the same.

You take your dress off. Just bra, thigh highs, and mary Jane’s.

“Bra next.” Smoke instructs.

You do as you are told. Like a good girl.

“Keep the thigh highs on. We like that.” Smoke says.

Now, they make you sit while they stand, flanking you, unbuttoning their pants.

“We been holding back our dicks until we got you here. It’s time to get that mouth checked out.” Stack said.

“We big but you can take it, right baby girl?” Smoke said.

“Yes, I can do my best.” You reply.

“You gon do as you’re told.” Smoke commands.

When they let their pants and boxers drop you gasp. A high pitched inhale of the purest shock. They were fat and long. You’d never seen a penis before except in a drawing your friends did for fun to mimic the real thing but this was something special. The veins intimidate you. The way their tips matched the girth of their shafts. The balls were heavy. They jumped in your face and you didn’t know what to do.

Gentle hands caress your shoulders.

“Get your first licks in. Think of it as a lollipop.” Stack teases.

“Or one of them popsicles. A choco pop. Remember those?” Smoke questioned.

You nod your head but no words come out.

“Open your mouth baby girl. I ain’t gon be so nice if you don’t listen.” Smoke said.

You poke your tongue out and sample him first. He instructs you to lick him up and down, focus on the tip, and give him kisses. Stack grabs you by the hair to do him the same way. Smoke sucked his teeth. You were doing it to Stack longer.

“Gotta share that mouth, Stack.” Smoke warned.

“Shit feel so good I don’t wanna share.” Stack said.

“Poke your tongue out.” Smoke orders

You do it and he slaps his dick on it. Stack does the same.

“Suck my dick first.” Smoke commands.

Stack moves your head over and you open up. Smoke slides in and starts pumping your mouth.

“Suck it down some more.” Stack says.

You do just that and start to gag a little. But Smoke is feeling good. He loves it.

“She gonna make me cum…” Smoke moans.

He slips his dick out so Stack can have a turn.

“Gimme that mouth.”

Stack fucks your mouth. Smoke fists his dick, watching you take his twin down your throat.

“Fuck, you used to our dicks already. Look at you.” Smoke said.

Stack is a moaning mess.

“She got spit on her titties. Look.” Stack said.

Smoke grabs a breast and pinches your nipple.

“Lips so tight on me. Shit—”

Stack cums. You swallow him down, savoring the taste.

“Now I gotta cum,” Smoke points his dick to you, “let’s go.”

Stack gets down and pushes your legs back. He made a sound of disbelief at how wet you are.

“She creamy and wet from sucking dick. My kind of girl.”

Smoke fucks your mouth while Stack licks and sucks on your pussy. You moaned with a mouth full of dick.

“Fuck, I’m cumming…” smoke growled.

You taste his cum now and like a good girl you take it all down your throat.

Stack stands and they both pick you up, taking you to Stack’s room because it’s the closest.

They place you on the bed and get down on their knees to eat your pussy while you sat on the edge of the bed. Stack would flick his tongue and slurp on your clit and then move aside so Smoke can do the same. But Smoke would put his tongue in your cooze. Lick up whatever dripped.

“Damn, let me do that.” Stack said.

Stack did the same. He licked up and down your pussy with a hungry tongue. Smoke used a finger and slid it inside of you. You moan and clench up.

“Relax. We gotta open it up. This pussy tight as fuck.” Smoke said.

The more he did it, the more enjoyable it became. Stack would not stop eating your pussy.

“Aight stack, let me get some.”

Stack went to finger you and Smoke sucked on your clit. He sucked on it like a pacifier.

“Smoke! Stack!” You moans.

“She about to cum.” Stack said.

“Yeah, her pussy dripping down my chin.” Smoke said.

“Shit taste so good.” Stack sucked you off his fingers.

They went back and forth, one eating and one fingering.

“We got her pussy talking.” Stack said.

“You hear that, baby girl? You wanna cum?”

You nod your head rapidly.

“Cum baby…” Smoke said.

“Cum Sweetie…” Stack said.

You did just that. And you were shaking.

They stood with wet faces as they licked their lips.

“Let’s flip a coin to see who getting in it first.” Stack said.

He pulled a quarter from his pocket. Smoke watched.

“Heads or tails?”

“Tails.” Smoke said.

Stack flipped it. He caught it and slapped it on his hand. Stack lifted his hand to see what it said.

“HELL NAH!”

Smoke smiled deviously.

“Looks like I get to pop it first.”

You watch with wary eyes as Smoke lines himself up. Stack was seething, but he sucked your titties to calm himself while stroking his dick. He settled behind you so that he could prop your head up so you can watch Smoke.

“You ready? I’m about to push in.” Smoke said.

“Yes, I’m ready.” You reply with a tremble.

Smoke lines himself up and then pushes. Your breath hitched and you look down at all of him entering you.

“I’m stretched…it’s so big!”

“Told you we gotta pop it open, Sweetie.” Stack said.

“She tight as fuck, Stack.” Smoke said through clenched teeth.

“I can see her gripping. Start moving.”

Smoke starts to stroke. You feel your legs being pulled back by Stack. His dick is in your face.

“Damn, this shit so tight and wet.” Smoke said.

He started moving faster. Now, you start to feel good. Wetter. You bite on your lip, and lock eyes with Smoke. He can see the transition.

“You like this big dick in your tight pussy?” Smoke said.

“Yes!”

“You like that I popped your cherry?” Smoke taunted.

“Yes!”

“Stack come get some.”

Smoke pulls out and you moan.

Stack trades places. Smoke makes you clean yourself off his dick. Stack slides in and he immediately starts pumping. Faster.

“Fuck, good pussy,” Stack slams in further, “Got that deep wet pussy. That big girl pussy we like. Deep and gushy.”

“Told you it was good.” Smoke said.

“I feel like I’m gonna pee!”

“No that ain’t pee, baby girl.” Smoke said, stroking your face, “Just let it happen. When you feel it ready to come out, let it flow.”

“She swelling up around my dick. Just release it, Sweetie. Daddy gonna take good care of you.” Stack said.

You do just that. And when you do it shocked you. It felt good to let go and rain on Stack.

“You just made it wetter for us. That’s a good girl.”

Stack slips out and they position you on all fours. Smoke gets behind and grabs a hold of your hips while Stack puts his dick in your mouth.

The sensation of feeling Smoke in your stomach was too much. He takes note of your discomfort and arches your back more. That made it better.

“Fat ass butt. Wet ass pussy.” Smoke said.

Smoke fucked you good from behind. Stack had your mouth stuffed so it was hard to moan.

They trade places and stack makes you get on top. He fucks up into you, your titties bouncing and swaying. You motion for Smoke to put his dick in your mouth.

“She our slut now, look at her.” Stack says.

“Good girl, you belong to us, understand?” Smoke said.

“How should we cum? Should we fill you up!?” Stack said.

Stack made you cum on his dick. He sucked your titties and then Smoke picked you up and slammed you down on his dick. He was fucking you in the air.

“Smoke! Smoke! I’m gonna cum on you too!” You moan.

They were having their way with you.

And when it was time for them to cum, they put you on your knees and jerked themselves all on your face and titties.

“Fuck…that was good. Real good.” Smoke said.

“I’ll be ready to go again in a minute. Let’s get you cleaned off.”

They took you to the bathroom and made sure to clean you up.

You couldn’t wait to go for round two.

[onlyheluvsme]

˗ˏˋshe's got a boyfriend anyway iv´ˎ˗

pls read ch.1-3 to understand thank uu — mdni, lowercase intended, f!reader, angst, leaves on cliffhanger, mentions of: anxiety, men, school ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ leave reqs!!

parts: one-three | four

ellie woke up the next morning with a pit in her stomach, she found herself sighing as she got ready for the day. the small figurine gift sat on her dresser, watching her like a crow — an omen. joel made banana pancakes in an attempt to cheer her up but the smile he received never reached her eyes.

it was tuesday, one of the days you and ellie shared several classes back to back, the first class being one of them. ellie attempted to ready her thoughts and words on the short drive to school but they were still so scrambled in her mind,

i'm totally sorry and i understand if you hate me, it was just the moment and i totally didn't mean it.

or

i don't understand why you can't see how much i love you, how much you don't love him.

but she couldn't say the latter, not if she wanted to keep you in her life. ellie's heart raced as her eyes made contact with the door of her first period classroom, what if you were in there already? with a pit in her stomach she walks into the classroom but your not there, she doesn't even realize the sigh she lets out.

its not that ellie didn't want to see you, god all she wanted to do was be with you right now, but she didn't know what you were feeling or what you would say and she hated that.

since there were a few minutes before class started ellie pulled out her journal and waited for you, writing her tasks for the day and drawing random shapes. she hadn't realize you never sat down by the time the bell rang and looked around with a frown to find you missing. she never misses class.

the period continued on until the bell rang again and ellie was baffled, she was sure you had a perfect absence, one your parents made sure your upheld. the thought made ellie's stomach knot, were you not here because you didn't want to see her?

so many assumptions ran through ellie's mind, you hate her, your parents find out and sent you to switzerland, you got hurt on the way to school and no one's found your weak body wailing for help — ellie was a worrier.

as ellie walked to her second class, she hoped you would be there when a hand grabbed her shoulder causing her to slightly stumble,

"hey, sorry" the familiar male voice said behind her, ellie turned around trying not to roll her eyes.

"hi jesse" she said almost monotone.

"what's up? you seen my girl anywhere? she didn't call me back last night," jesse questions, leaning onto the locker next to him. ellie had to bite her tongue before answering, wanting so badly to say that you weren't his girl.

"no, uh, haven't seen her," ellie huffs, hand wringing around the strap of her bag.

"her mom called mine last night saying some stuff so i just thought maybe she would've been with you" he shrugs, "alright, see ya"

"wait wait!" ellie calls after a beat, "what do you mean?"

"i don't really know, wasn't paying attention, gotta go" he laughs and turns around continuing on his way, the bell ringing with his quick footsteps.

ellie's mind is scattered as she quickly makes her way to second period, what could he be talking about? had you told your parents what happened? ellie found your usual seat empty again, same for third period and fourth; by then she had concluded you wouldn't be coming.

when lunch rolled around ellie made a beeline for the exit, skipping the rest of the day, what purpose was it to be there if you weren't? it was the only day ellie had experience school without you since meeting you and she fucking hated it. she found herself hating a lot of things when you weren't there. hated her empty passenger seat, hated that your music wasn't coming from her speakers, hated the fact there weren't two feet on her dash.

this was eating her alive, she was sure she wouldn't survive it. ellie couldn't stop herself as she drove to your house, the anxiety turning into some kind of need; she needed to let this out, she needed you to know.

the expensive cars your parent's owned were missing from the driveway, they were at work but ellie parked slightly up the block — just incase. what if you weren't here? what if they took you somewhere? what if you really did try to get to school and got hurt on the way?

with a sweaty hand, ellie knocked on the door three times. her teeth found her bottom lip, chewing at the sensitive skin to ease her nerves. she heard faint footsteps and the sound of a lock turning, it took everything not to turn and run.

ellie's chest tightened at the sight of you, nose red, hair unbrushed, pajamas still on — still so fucking beautiful. all of the words ellie had prepared flew out the window as she looked at you, silence stretched between you as you both stared at each other.

your eyes were wide as you found ellie on your doorstep, completely out of her element,

"what are you doing here?"

"we need to talk," you both try, both your cheeks reddening.

you wait a second before trying again,

"what are you doing here, ellie?" you ask almost shyly, finding yourself wanting to hide behind your door.

"you weren't at school," she says with a frown,

"no"

"jesse said something that scared me" ellie's hand tugs at her nape,

"oh"

"i needed to know you were okay" she finishes, hands coming back down to her sides.

"that i'm okay?" you repeat, looking up at her.

ellie watches as your eyes slightly gloss,

"ellie you're fucking killing me" your eyes close as a tear rolls down your cheek and ellie fucking breaks.

she doesn't even think before stepping through the threshold, both hands coming up to your cheeks as her thumb profusely attempted to remove the tears from your eyes. you instinctively lean into her warm hands, immediately feeling tingles spread throughout your body.

"oh baby please don't cry" ellie whispers, "what do i need to do?" her eyes scan your face looking for anything to reprieve your anguish.

your face crumples at the endearment, more tears streaming down your cheeks. all you want is to cave into her arms, let her make you feel better, but the cost of it would be your sanity.

you waited a beat before opening your eyes, you found her face inches above yours — anxiety written on all of her features. your glossy eyes find her lips and without thinking or letting yourself feel regret you kiss her.

[five]

╰┈➤coming soon

[ellie masterlist]

[brutaliashipper1]

Crashing date night one at a time

-Dick-

*Bruce and Talia at the roof of WE with a romantic dinner.

Talia: I’m so glad we could do this finally

Bruce: I couldn’t agree more

Bruce: Talia I have to ask you-

Dick: *pops up from under the table* Tati! How are you. We have to go now.

Talia: How the fuck?! When did he get here?! How did two of the most skilled people not notice him?!

Dick: Because I’m Robin. Also the kitchen at the manor is on fire so that plus the other reasons you HAVE to come home

Bruce: …

Dick: :)

Bruce:..

Dick: 😭

Bruce: *sigh* I have to go. Sorry about all this I’ll call you. Thank you for tonight Talia. Come on dick we have to go home

*no call was made because some how due to a totally different reason Bruce’s phone was found damaged leading him to forget it was he who was gonna text her*

-Jason (bribed by Dick &Barbra ,she’s mad with Bruce)-

Bruce: So glad that we encountered each other at the gala. Well since we are in this hotel room-

Talia: And since we are alone-

Bruce: thinking what I’m thinking

Talia: Yea we should-

Jason: Play video games! Oh and read books! Oh and then we should all get ice cream!

Bruce:?!

Talia: Oh. Heyy love. How are you. That sounds like a plan

Bruce:?

Jason: YAY!

Talia: *whispers to Bruce* Think of it as a cozy little ice cream date with a third wheel

Bruce: That’s exactly what this is… fine

Jason: Do I still get payed?

Bruce:?what do you mean?

Jason: Dick and Babs promised me money if I came here.

Bruce:..

Talia:..

Talia: SEE! Told you! He has something against me!

-Tim (he was bored)-

*Brutalia on a walk around the manor* Talia: It’s a nice day out don’t you agree beloved

Bruce: yes

Tim: *mouth full of food* yea it is. Do you want a protein bar?!

Bruce:?! God damn it Tim! Don’t do that!

Talia: what kind of protein bar?

Tim: Raspberry

Talia: Oooooh. I haven’t tried that one

Tim: yeah it’s good have you tried the Oreo one

Talia: yes I have have you tried the mango one

*both walk away talking about buzzard protein bar flavors and other stuff* Bruce:…

Bruce: :(

-Damian (was jealous)-

Bruce: *fixing his tie for the date* Damian: *walks in and vomits* Bruce: Oh habibi come here. Are you sick? Well Ofc you are you just vomited. You’re even heating up. Damian: Baba. I feel s-so sick *cries*

Bruce: Oh my darling little bat. I’ll stay home to take care of you let me make a call

-one phone call later-

Bruce: Your mother said she can come over if you ask. I’ll re call her if you want to talk only. I’ll have to be right back after I get you some stuff

Bruce:*kisses Damian’s forehead and hands over the phone*

Talia on the phone: Oh baby I heard are you ok:

Damian: *eviliy grins* Yes I am. He’s all mine mother You stole him last week for your anniversary which I know was a lie…maybe…kinda…not.

Damian: The point is I get all the snuggle. Also love you Ummi visit soon bye.

Talia: Wait Damian. And he hung up. Fuck can’t we get one date night

Bonus (Superbat with the 4 boys)

Clark: I’m glad we got to do this

Bruce: Hn. I agree

Clark: I can feel that your tense *rubs his thumb on Bruce’s hand* It all good relax

Bruce: I was but I feel like someone is watching us

*Bruces 4 sons sitting at the table behind them in a booth while duke,Steph, Cass, and Babs watch through cams”

Damian: We shall attack the Alien and save baba

Jason: I brought a kryptonite gun

Dick: Wait guys we shouldn’t do this maybe it’s not that serious-

Tim:Oh really then what that

*cut to Bruce and Clark clearly eye fucking each other at the table* Dick:..

Dick:Traumatised. So very traumatised. I take it back attacked

*They all pounce on Bruce to drag him away but Clark flies him and Bruce to the fortress for alone time. Alone time. You know what I’m— ok that’s good because the kids don’t we shall not tell them*

[xxmcr05xx]

Mina | Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

Summary: Arthur wants to provide a family.

Warnings/Contains: Smut, overstimulation, no spoilers!, established relationship, canon-divergence, cream pie, breeding, dacryphilia, domestic love <3, size difference, doggystyle, vaginal sex, rough sex, dirty talk, missionary position

WC: 2,041

Originally Posted: 09/07/24 on AO3!

18+ MDNI!!!

Divider by @deltamel

Arthur peered over to his wife, who was lovingly staring at a young family.

The man had always felt such panging guilt for never being able to start a family with his wife while they were young. Arthur felt selfish, stringing along F/N with the gang's activities, never seemingly able to stay in one spot for too long. However, a run-in with the Pinkertons and the betrayal of Micah and Dutch had led to Arthur almost dying if it wasn't for F/N saving him at the brink of death.

A year after that event has led the couple from New Austin to a state West of America. The pair had left their old life of crime to start a new life as a wedded farming couple - with quite the successful farm if you ask Arthur.

Arthur snapped back into reality as he thought about his old life and placed a hand on F/N's shoulder. "C'mon, darlin', let's go," Arthur ushered, turning the couple away from the young family as they exited a market.

The younger woman nodded softly at Arthur's movement, leaving the market alongside him.

Their walk home was quiet, Arthur had a lot on his mind still, he wanted to give a domestic family life for F/N but was unsure if it was too late. F/N noticed Arthur's strange quietness and held his arm with her spare hand/

"Hey, are you doing alright, Arthur? You've been awfully quiet this entire walk."

Arthur looked down at his wife, snapping out of his thoughts to answer her question, "Oh, y-yeah I'm okay, dear. I'll um- I'll explain to ya when we get home," he reassured with a smile. F/N squinted her eyes in suspicion, but let Arthur keep his peace as they were five minutes away from their farm.

When the pair finally arrived at their homestead, F/N dropped her bag on the table and went straight to Arthur who seemed quite worried. "Ok, tell me what's going on. You never usually seem this nervous!" F/N demanded, her voice cracking a little, stressed at Arthur's quiet state. Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his slowly greying hair, he grabbed F/N's own hands and rubbed them.

He admired the size difference between them.

"I just feel so... so guilty," Arthur bit his lip sadly, rubbing his rough thumb over F/N's soft hand, "I'm sorry I got you so involved with Dutch and the gang. I wish I wasn't so selfish 'n that I could have given you a family instead of makin' you go on the run."

Arthur paused for a moment, waiting for F/N to say something but she just let him talk, "And I just... fuck... I really just want to provide the family you need."

He waited again, begging silently in his head for F/N to respond.

F/N looked down at Arthur's hands holding hers and then back up to meet Arthur's gaze. She let out a small giggle and brought his hands towards her lips, kissing it softly. "It's okay, Arthur, y'know I'm not all too bothered about domestic life. What got you all sappy like this?" F/N asked with a small giggle.

The older man's face flushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed about his feelings. "I- I was looking at you look at that young family and I- God I sound stupid," Arthur paused before continuing, "I just thought that you might have wanted that..." Arthur's clear tone started to waver as he mumbled towards the end of his sentence.

The smaller woman giggled a little and kissed his hands again, "Oh Arthur... I already knew that being with you might have meant not being able to have children and that shit, and I'm okay with that," F/N had a little idea pop in her head, "although... it's never too late to start a family. You may be thirty-seven but I am twenty-nine, I don't think that it's too late."

F/N stood on her tippy toes to kiss Arthur's nose, "Whaddya say, wanna make me a momma?" F/N asked, her voice quietening down.

The world around Arthur seemed to have disappeared at F/N's request, he felt blood rush to both his face and his cock at her suggestion. "Oh you wouldn't mind that?" Arthur asked back, his voice softening, moving his hands down from F/N's own to her waist.

"Of course not, I mean, you'd make me a very happy gal."

That's all Arthur wanted.

Make F/N happy.

He then complied to her request, without a verbal answer, Arthur rushed his lips onto F/N's own with a desperate need. The smaller woman let out a muffled moan as Arthur grabbed F/N's ass, picking her up and taking her into their shared bedroom. Arthur kept his larger hands on F/N's ass, groping it with need while he placed her down on the bed gently.

Arthur was the first one to move away from the kiss, a string of saliva connected their mouths together. The man above felt breathless as he stared down at his gorgeous wife, face red and panting hard for air. "Fuckin' hell, F/N, you're such a doll," Arthur leaned down to kiss her again.

He moved his hands down her face to the bottom of her shirt, he tugged it softly before peeling it off her. They moved from the kiss so that Arthur could help undress F/N. Arthur could feel his cock twitch each time he heard F/N whimper.

"You really are the most beautiful thing ever," Arthur whispered, he smiled and kissed F/N's collarbone, rubbing F/N's sides slowly with his hands while he straddled her hips.

"Y'think so?" F/N asked softly, letting out small whines at each of Arthur's touches. He nodded softly, his lips moving down to F/N's collarbone, he then started to bite and suck on her more sensitive spots on her skin, which gifted Arthur with her moans.

His lips peppered soft kisses down from her collarbone to her breasts, he sucked a breath air in before moving his hands to her breasts, groped it softly before taking one nipple into his mouth. F/N moaned at the wet and warm sensation, running her hand through his hair as he continued to suck.

Arthur pulled away for a sec, letting out a small moan before starting to talk, "Fuck... can just imagine these filled with milk," Arthur panted softly, moving his hand towards the wet nipple and playing with it with his thumb and index finger. "Gonna make sure you're stuffed with cum by the end of the night, do y'mind that?"

F/N shook her head eagerly.

The bigger man let out a slight chuckle before pinching the nipple, moving his mouth over the second nipple, sucking on it for a bit. Arthur felt so overwhelmed with lust, he moved from her chest towards her mouth again, holding F/N's face with his left hand, his right one moving down towards her skirt. He seemingly ripped it off just for better access towards her wet cunt.

F/N let out another moan, she felt Arthur's rough fingers start to tease her lower entrance as her upper entrance was invaded by Arthur's thick tongue. The overstimulating feelings got to F/N, she didn't know whether to move away from his mouth or his fingers - her movement just ended up with her grinding against his fingers and his mouth.

Arthur was proud.

F/N let out a few small words that were muffled, which Arthur translated to, 'stop teasing,' so he did just that. Two of his thick fingers then entered into her cunt, the filling sensation was satisfying to F/N as she let out a moan into Arthur's mouth. Sloshing noises were head throughout the room, Arthur started to finger F/N roughly, desperately wanting her to cum so that he could easily fuck her brainlessly.

"That feel fuckin' good?" Arthur asked with a growl as he moved away from the kiss, F/N let out a whine and a nod, looking down at Arthur's thick arm move as he fingered her needily. "Gonna prep you so well, F/N. Gonna cum in you so bad..." Arthur started to huff out loud, leaning down so that he was kneeling in front of her legs.

He could feel his mouth water now, the smell and texture of her pussy overwhelming his senses so much. "Need you badly," Arthur moved his fingers out of F/N's pussy which made her cry out in unfairness, but was then met with Arthur's needy mouth.

"Oh FUCK!" F/N cursed out.

Her hands gripped Arthur's hair instantly, holding on for dear life as Arthur's tongue intruded into her cunt, lapping up her cum like a dog. His tongue plus his now fast moving thumb on F/N's clit was too much for F/N to handle, she could feel her body grind against Arthur's face, which neither were complaining about.

"Fuck.... Oh fuck fuck FUCK! Arthur it's too much," F/N whined out, she could feel tears form in her eyes, "can't deal can't do!" F/N started to slur her words when she felt like she was close to cumming. Arthur's free hand rubbed F/N's waist softly, as to signal to her that it was okay for her to cum.

Finally, the overwhelming feelings got to F/N, letting out a loud moan as she finally came.

Arthur felt alarmed for a sec, but moved his face and thumb away quickly from F/N as she finally came. "Shit, F/N... You're so fucking hot," Arthur smirked softly, rubbing her legs with his hands. "I need to cum in you so bad," Arthur mumbled, "I'm just... I'm just gonna put it in, you're okay with that, right hon?" Arthur asked while pulling out his throbbing red cock.

Brainlessly, F/N nodded slowly, not giving a care in the world what Arthur does to her, tears rolling down her cheek. Arthur wiped away the tears and whispered a thank you to her.

He grabbed his cock and rubbed the tip slowly up and down her wet slit, Arthur let out a small moan before finally burying his thick cock into her cunt right down to his base. The man let out a guttural moan at the grippy and wet sensation that was around his cock. "Shit," Arthur cursed out, "gonna cum so much in this pussy... gonna shoot my babies all in you."

Arthur leaned down and gripped the headboard with one hand, using the other to hold F/N's waist as he started to thrust in and out of F/N's cunt. The position that they were in made Arthur's cock his F/N's g-spot each time.

F/N's moans were spilling out like crazy, her tears were spilling out at an equal rate as she gripped onto the pillows tightly.

"Fuck fuck fuck," Arthur cried out, the feeling of her raw cunt was Heavenly to her, "please... oh shit... fuck I need to cum so bad- I'm gonna cum so much in your pussy."

Arthur leaned down, he moved his hands to her face and held it close to him as he sloppily made out with F/N, fucking into her so hard that he could feel her cumming around his cock.

The sensation of her tongue and spit plus her cunt gripping was the final straw for Arthur, he sped up his thrusts as he finally felt himself cum inside of her. The pair moaned out at the feeling, Arthur stopping his thrusts for a second to get down from his high.

He moved out of her cunt slowly, he looked down and felt himself turned on by the scene of his cum dripping out of cunt.

Arthur sighed and moved to lay besides F/N, who had her eyes closed and panting. "So... So good..." F/N whined out, she rolled to her side and held Arthur, who gladly reciprocated the action.

"I love you F/N," Arthur whispered, kissing her forehead before snoozing off to sleep alongside his wife.

[thezombieprostitute]

Hot Under the Collar

Summary: Andy gets a dose of something not asked for.

Warnings: Andy gets drugged, Dub con, Misuse of magic(?), Sex pollen, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: ~2.4k

A/N: Written for @gremlin-girly's 20 Questions. Prompts:

Character 8 - Andy Barber Question 2 - "Do you ever shut the fuck up?" Trope 19 - Sex Pollen / Fuck or die

Working as a paralegal for the District Attorney could really be a mixed bag. There were valleys of boredom because of the routine nature of the cases, and there were chaotic storms when something big happened. You'd learned how to weather the droughts and floods better than most. Now you were the most senior legal assistant in the building. It wasn't great work, but it was comfortable.

Really the biggest difficulty you have is with all of the younger paralegals going all heart eyes for Mr. Barber, the Assistant DA. You don't understand the attraction, but it's probably just because he's not your type. You prefer the dorky guys with glasses.

That is not Mr. Barber; workaholic, all about looking professional, not letting his personal life get in the mix. It's one of the reasons he still wore his wedding ring despite the divorce being years ago. Honestly, it really made him one of the better bosses you've had. No small awkward small talk about nonexistent weekend plans. No unwanted flirting. Just work, sometimes a compliment whenever you brought in homemade sweets to share.

One day Kat, one of the newer paralegals brought in a small batch of cookies just for Mr. Barber. She made a bit of a show about putting them on his desk, even wearing a very low cut dress for the occasion. She started talking about how much work she put into them and basically wouldn't stop gushing until he'd eaten one and complimented her on it.

She walked back to her desk looking like the cat that ate the canary. All you could to was shake your head and keep working.

A couple hours later Mr. Barber, looking somehow both pale and flushed, mentions he's not feeling well and needs to go home.

Kat jumps up, breasts bouncing a little, "I'll take you home, Andy."

"No," he shakes his head and puts out a hand. "Not a good idea." He takes a few breaths. "Don't want to get you sick."

"I don't mind, sir," she chirps, holding her arms so her breasts are pushed out a little more.

"No!" His outburst gets everyone's attention and his face turns a shade of red. "Not feeling well. Going home. Alone."

She slumps into her chair, disappointment written all over her face.

The next day Mr. Barber calls in sick. You're starting to worry about him. He's always taken such good care of his health. Especially since he doesn't have anyone to take care of him.

Kat is grousing at her desk when you ask her notified that Mr. Barber won't be coming in today. There's a flurry of activity because all of his cases need to get reassigned or rescheduled. She's visibly frustrated, even though she got the smallest number of cases to work on.

"This is so stupid," she complains to you. "Hey, you know Andy's address, right?"

"Yes, but I don't think it's a good idea to visit him," you tell her. "Mr. Barber so rarely gets sick this is likely something you're not going to want to catch."

"Oh please, it's nothing!" she pouts.

"Mr. Barber doesn't call in sick for 'nothing,'" you counter. "In all my years working for him, calling in sick is a very rare, very serious occasion."

"But it's just a little love potion!"

There's a bit of quiet after she blurts that out.

"What was that?" you raise an eyebrow as the Canavan, the DA moves closer.

Kat is suddenly flustered, clearly realizing her mistake. "It was just a little love potion in those cookies I made for him yesterday. He just needs to...get some loving and he'll be fine."

"You drugged him?!" the Canavan exclaims.

"No! I mean...technically, yes, but it's harmless! Easy cure! I can fix it, if I can just sleep with him!"

"Kat, you're going to sit and wait for the police to arrive," Canavan orders.

"But it's an easy fix!"

"You drugged someone!" Canavan points to you. "Call Andy and tell him he needs to get the hospital ASAP! And if he doesn't answer go to his apartment."

"Yes, ma'am," you nod, picking up the office phone.

"But he's supposed to sleep with me!" Kat stomps her foot.

It isn't long before you're knocking on his door. "Mr. Barber! Mr. Barber, can you open the door?" You tell him who it is, just in case he doesn't recognize your voice and tell him it's an emergency.

Mr. Barber opens the door and pulls you inside, slamming the door shut behind you. You want to yell but the words die on your tongue as you take in his condition. And his naked form.

He's beyond disheveled. His normally perfect hair and beard are all a mess. His chest is drenched in sweat. His...erection is looking red with precum at the tip.

You're further shocked when he locks the door and pulls you close, sniffing your hair.

"M...Mr. Barber," you stammer. He rubs his beard along your neck as his surprisingly strong arms hold you tight. "Mr. Barber---"

"Andy," he growls.

"Mr. Barber," you spit. "You've been poisoned. We've got to get you to a hospital!"

"Poisoned?"

"Those cookies Kat gave you? She drugged them or something. We have to get you to the emergency room."

"Kat," he sneers. "Don't need her. Don't need her bland cookies. Don't need the ER. Just need you. The one constant in my life. My guiding star."

He hands start to wander and you try smacking him away. When that doesn't work you stop his toes and he immediately lets go with a yell.

You try to get to the door, you can call an ambulance from the hall, but he's quick to block your path. Rather than looking angry or hurt, he gets on his knees, holding his hands on front of him, eyes frantic.

"Please, please, I know I'm not in control of myself. I'm sorry! Please!"

"We need to get you to a hospital," you reiterate.

"No, no, no, please!" he begs, hands pressed together like he's praying. "No one can see me like this. It'll kill my reputation. It'll hurt the entire office!"

"It's a medical emergency, there's no shame in that," you roll your eyes.

"There is when it's a priapism!" he whines. "Do you have any idea how much the jokes will affect my entire career? Especially if this makes the news?! No jury would ever take me seriously again and the public defendants would have an easy target to dismantle all my arguments!"

"I suppose I can see the logic," you sigh. "But you still need medical help."

"Did Kat say what she poisoned me with?"

"She said it was supposed to be a love potion?" you shake your head. "Which probably explains...that," you gesture to his erection. "Probably had stuff that affects... blood flow or libido or something."

"Love potion?"

"That's what she called it," you shrug. "I'm guessing you've tried the usual stuff, like thinking about baseball, taking a cold shower..."

"I've done all that and can't stop jerking myself off," he admits, cheeks red with shame. "The closest I had to relief was when I was holding you. It's why I didn't want to let go."

"Oh no," you groan, putting your head in your hands. "She implied...implied that...sex was the...the cure."

Mr. Barber's eyes widen and he crawls closer to you, "please! Please help me! I promise I'll make it good for you!"

"Is there anyone else to help you? Maybe a girlfriend? A close friend, even?"

"No," he shakes his head, tears forming. "Since Laurie left I just couldn't let myself get close to anyone. You're the one person I'm closest too and that's mainly because you're the most reliable person in my life. The one I can actually count on. Who won't leave me."

You give a resigned sigh. "After this, we're getting you a dating profile."

He winces as if you slapped him but gets on his feet to hug you. "Don't want anyone but you. You're the most amazing, wonderful, beautiful, reliable---"

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?!" you snap. "I'm not exactly having a great time here! Sleeping with my boss is a line I've never wanted to cross! And I wouldn't have to if you'd just go to the hospital! But no, it's not good for your reputation. And fine, I understand that, but it doesn't mean I want this!"

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, tears pouring from his eyes. "I promise, I swear on my career, I'll make it up to you."

"I'm sure you will," you shake your head, eyes rolling. "But for now, go lay down on your bed." He's quick to obey your direction and you take that as a good sign.

You undress as you approach him. He really is handsome and surprisingly well muscled. Maybe you can just forget that he's your boss for however long this takes.

As you get close, he moves to hold you but you stop him. "We're going to do this how I need it done, understood?" He nods. "Scoot down a little because I'm going to sit on that face of yours and you're going to put that mouth to good use. Got it?"

"Yes, yes, please!" he licks his lips, eyes focused on your naked form.

You hover over his face and take a little pleasure from hearing his whines. He's keeping himself still, awaiting your instruction. The thought of this normally stolid man becoming a whimpering mess for you helps you get more into the mood.

"Go to town," you tell him.

A small growl is your only warning before he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you all the way down onto his face. A gasp escapes your lips as his tongue gets to work. You have to use the headboard to steady yourself; you weren't expecting him to be good at this. Maybe it's the beard scratching your inner thighs or the fact that he's eating you out like a man starved or how long it's been since you've had sex, but you're feeling so good already. His groans and moans have you grinding his face, chasing your release.

You're not expecting him to keep going after you've cum, but it just seems to excite him more. You can feel his body twitching and you look over your shoulder to see his cock shooting semen all over his stomach, some reaching his chest.

"Okay, that should be enough, right?" you rasp, trying to lift yourself off of his face.

He answers you with another growl and pulls you back into place.

"Mr. Barber," you whine. "Mr. Barber, please. That has to be enough."

Your world gets flipped and you're suddenly on your back.

"Andy," he growls. "I'm not Mr. Barber here."

"Fine, Andy," you acquiesce, slightly nervous at how feral he's looking with your juices all over his beard. "You just came all over yourself. Isn't that enough?"

"It was the best orgasm I've had since I ate those damn cookies," he admits. "It helped, but it's not enough. Need to be inside you. Please!"

You reach out and grab his hair, pulling his head back so he has to look at you. "You better be damn grateful I'm on the pill."

"And I'll make sure you get some Plan B just in case, too," he promises. "Just please, please, let me cum inside you."

"Fine," you shrug, trying to hide your nerves.

Andy quickly kisses his way up your front, pausing at your breasts for a few moments, alternating licking and biting your nipples. You're rolling your hips as he gets to your mouth and kisses you, deep and passionate. You revel in the taste of yourself on his tongue and open your legs a little wider.

He lines himself up with your entrance and quickly pushes his erection into you. You keen a little at the size, pulling his hair.

When he's fully sheathed, you feel his cock twitching and he looks like he's cumming again already. Whatever it was Kat drugged him with was clearly potent. You figure Andy has to have been in a lot of pain.

Andy pulls out a little and you think he's done, but instead he thrusts himself back into your core with a moan.

"I knew you'd feel so good," he groans as his hips pick up speed. "Sweetest tasting pussy, too. You're so good for me." He pushes himself up just enough so he can watch your breasts bounce with each thrust.

Figuring he's lost in his own drugged up state, only concerned with his own pleasure, you reach your hand down between your bodies and start playing with your clit.

"Was my mouth not good enough for you?" he growls.

"What the hell makes you think that was enough for me?" you bite back. "Doesn't matter. We're here for your pleasure. Let me just make sure I get to have some, too."

"I'm sorry," he concedes. "I'm out of control. I know I am. I don't know what to do."

"You can shut up, keep fucking me, and not comment when I try to get myself off!"

"Yes, ma'am," he groans, continuing to piston into your pussy.

With only the lascivious sounds of your hips meeting, it's easier for you to focus on making yourself feel good. On pretending you're with someone else, one of the IT guys who shares your love of bad jokes. Most importantly, pretending you're not with your boss.

When you finally do cum again, it sets him off. He moans and puts all of his weight on you, kissing and biting along your neck.

The two of you lay there for a minute, Andy catching his breath. He pulls out of you and tears up. "The pain's finally gone," he rasps. I think...I think it's finally out of my system."

"Good," you answer hoarsely. "Then you can get off of me. You are not a small man."

"Shit, sorry!" he quickly rolls off of you.

"I'll stick around for another hour or so, make sure things are actually...settled, but then I'm going home."

"What? You don't have to go."

"You're my boss and this is a lot for me to process," you confess, tears starting to form in your eyes.

"What...what do you need me to do? What can I do to help you?"

"Give me space and keep things professional in the office."

"Okay..." he mumbles, disappointment written all over his face.

An hour later, when it looks like he has kicked whatever the drug from the cookies was, you head home. Andy desperately wants you to stay with him. Wants to comfort you. Take care of you. It's strange, he thinks. Before today he'd only ever thought of you as a friend, a reliable coworker. But now he can't stop thinking about you, and thinking of how he can win your heart.

Maybe there was some magic in those cookies, he thinks.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[sturnslutz]

STEP FORWARD. ~~~ bestfriend!chris

⚠️warnings will contain spoilers!⚠️ warnings: kissing, cursing, slight drinking, AHHHHH LORE DROP

-4 months ago-

the triplets barely even wanted to go to this party, but for the sake of tara and you begging them to go to the party, they decided to go.

“didnt even wanna go to this dumbass party, peach.” chris mutters into your ear as he takes a sip out of whatever in his cup as he stands behind you.

you smirk, looking to him behind you, your faces awkwardly close. “just relax, i’m here. your brothers are here, and everyone’s minding their own business. just try and have fun. y’drinking?”

he nods, making a straight line with his mouth. “just a bit, might as well to help the time pass. matt and nick are too.” you smile softly at him, leaning back against him, resting your head against his shoulder. he wrapped one of his arms around your waist as he leans even more back against the wall.

“i need some apple juice or something, i hate the taste of alcohol.” he says, grimacing at the taste of it. you stand up, grabbing his cup, and pouring it into yours. “me too, i’ll go toss them out and get something else. don’t move.” he smiles at you softly, before you walk away.

you walk past matt and nick, giving them each a smile as you walk into the kitchen tossing out the cups. you grab a couple new ones, and ask tara if there’s any juice. “yeah, there’s some in the fridge, all the way in the back. the ones with vodka are in it are in the front, so avoid those.” you nod, rubbing her shoulder as you walk away, eventually pouring some of the virgin juice into 2 new cups.

you walk back to chris, seeing him in the exact spot as before, but now on his phone. the music is blasting through your ears as you smile to a couple of friends, and ignore some random guys staring you down. “your drink, sir.” you say as you hand chris the cup. he smiles, taking it and sipping it generously. “thanks peach. you see matt and nick over there?” you lean against the wall next to him, nodding as you sip some of the juice. “yeah, nick’s a bit drunk but managing and matt seems fine.” he hums in response, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to a empty couch.

“much more comfortable, huh?” he says as he pulls you in close to him. you chuckle softly, nodding. “yeah, much more.” you have a slight view of him as you toss your legs over his lap, his left hand rubbing them gently. you look at him more than you have before, just examining his features. he sees you looking, before smirking a bit.

“find something interesting, peach?” you shrug, tapping his cheek with one of your fingers. “d’know. just looking. you’re cute, go talk to some girls. they’re more interesting than me right now.” he shrugs, looking around the living room. “i’m good. probably some drunk or high girls who just wanna fuck. would much rather spend time with my best friend than some rando.” he pulls you in closer, switching your position and pulling you more into him, now your faces much closer than before.

“you look really fuckin’ good tonight, kid.” he mutters, running his hand up and down your back. “you too.” you barely get out before he leans in, kissing your lips gently— testing out the waters. you gasp a bit, before leaning back and setting your cup against the ground, before sitting back up and leaning into him, kissing him. he immediately reciprocated it— grabbing your jaw as he sets his cup on the ground also, without breaking the kiss.

he pulls you onto his lap as he grabs your hips, pushing them down against his lap. “been waiting for this.” he says as he pulls away slightly to take a breath. “me too.” you say before running your hand through the back of his head, pulling him back into you.

slight moans and groans come from the both of you, the thought of you being “strictly” best friends long gone from your heads. he pulls away after some time, setting his forehead against yours, taking in deep breaths. “we shouldn’t do this.” “but we are already. just let this moment happen, then we’ll never talk about it again.” he nods fast before kissing you hungrily.

he lets his tongue flow into your mouth, your tongues moving across each other. after some time, you pull away, kissing his jaw and neck and leaving some marks. “jus’ to remember.” you mutter against his neck. he nods, leaning his head back against the couch as his hands continue to roam your body, squeezing and touching in all the right places. “fuck peach, we can’t do this.” he hesitantly pushes you slightly off him— finally allowing him to see you after everything. he smiles at how you look with your hair and lipstick all messed up.

he wipes his thumb under your lip, wiping some of it off. “got something there.” you smirk, rolling your eyes. “yeah, alright thanks dude.” “no problem.” he says, moving his hands down to your thighs. he looks behind you, and his face drops. matt and nick were standing approximately 10 feet away from the both of you, both of their jaws dropped. nick mouths “what the fuck.” before rubbing his face.

matt just sighs, walking towards the both of you, his eyes never leaving chris’s. “you guys better figure this out before it becomes a problem.” he says, tapping your head as you look up at him. the two of them walk away, and you turn your body to see matt just shaking his head. “we can never do this again, chris.” you say, moving yourself off his body, sitting next to him. “i know. but it was a damn good makeout, huh?” you smile, looking up at him before laughing and nodding. “eh, it was alright. rate it a 7 most.” you joke. chris rolls his eyes, pushing your head slightly as he looks away, also smiling.

the thing you and the triplets all knew, was that you and chris would never be the same again.