#he's only the one that's drug EVERY CAT TO THIS HOUSE

[krayt-dragongirl-tail]

I'd actually really like to be able to set up my mic and do voiceovers of random posts on here but NO someone has to have the TV up to 45 all fucking day to be over the heater noise and also have a reason to shout at the cat at the top of their fucking lungs

[burningembers91]

Crime of Passion - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up Piece to: Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse

Synopsis: A change in circumstances puts you in danger, changing your relationship with your Grey Suited Man

Warnings: 18+ only!, this is NOT a healthy relationship, Reader is attacked, depiction of death (no main characters), rough sex

He hadn’t been able to see you today. Work had called, they had a few loose ends that needed tying up, some potential problems that needed silencing. He’d always been able to keep his work life and personal interests separate, but you… you seemed to be seeping over into every facet of his life. He was clinging to control by the skin of his teeth, desperate to bring into you line and yet so curious about just how far you could push each other. What had started as a desire to control, had slowly turned into a game of mutual torture, both of desperate to bring the other to their knees.

His schedule had been interrupted, but it had the advantage of giving him the edge. You’d be wondering why he wasn’t on the park bench today, why he wasn’t watching you as you marked your students’ papers. You’d walk home, wondering why he wasn’t behind you. You’d peek out of your curtains tonight to see his usual seat outside the restaurant vacant. You’d wonder if he’d lost interest, you’d start to doubt yourself. He couldn’t help but smile as he cleaned the blood from his favourite knife, dumping his employer’s little problem into the underground incinerator as he pondered his next move.

You were indeed wondering where your grey suited man had gone. This was the first time in months that he hadn’t been watching you. You’d learn to sense his presence, could always feel his eyes on you, no matter how large the crowd. But today, there was nothing; he was nowhere to be seen. You wondered what you’d done to drive him away. Had you teased him too much? Had he grown tired of not being given what he wanted? You held back tears as you graded your student’s work, being unnecessarily harsh in your marking today. You didn’t want to take it out on the kids, but you usually channelled any frustrations into teasing your mysterious stalker, and today you couldn’t do that.

You stayed at the coffee house until closing, which was unheard for you. You just wanted to wait a little longer, to see if he’d been held up. but he never showed. Finally, feeling downtrodden and a little heartbroken, you made the journey home. he had an unfair advantage over you. Mr Grey Suit knew everything about you, but you knew nothing about him. he’d be able to find you, but you were at his mercy, forced to wait until he came to you. you bumped shoulders with passersby, anger boiling in your veins as you wondered why you were no longer good enough. You didn’t seem to be good enough for anyone, not your ex, not your boss, not even your fucking parents. You were a nobody, once again. Thrown away by the one person who injected some dangerous excitement into the mundanity of your simple existence.

***

It was getting late. The coffee house was closed by the time he arrived, and you were nowhere in sight. He’d told himself he’d go straight home after work, that he’d let you wonder about his absence until tomorrow. But you were a drug he couldn’t kick, seeping into his veins and sinking your claws into the atoms of his brain. He was desperate to see you, to watch you tease him through your living room window. Maybe tonight he’d venture upstairs, make you scream for him as he finally took what was his. He hurried along through the busy streets, fighting the urge to run. One day without you was driving him insane, like an addict desperate for his next fix. He’d have you tonight, one way or the other, the consequences be damned.

***

You were approaching your apartment, your footsteps slow. You didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to spend the night alone. Even though you were the only person in your apartment, your grey suited man was always nearby. But not tonight. For the first time in months, you were truly alone. That’s when you felt it; a presence behind you. But not the presence of your mysterious man; he usually set your whole body on fire. Whoever this was, they made your skin crawl. You could hear their breath behind you, hard and laboured. You could smell the sweat and stale alcohol seeping through their pores. Whoever this was, they meant you harm.

***

He’d started to jog now, his patience wearing thin. He needed to see you, needed to breathe your scent, needed to see the gleam in those perfect eyes of yours. As he rounded the corner to your apartment, the hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. Something was wrong; he could smell the fear in the air. He heard a scuffle from the alleyway, a muffled scream, and rounded the corner faster than lightning. You were one the floor, a man on top of you. You scratched and clawed at his face, kicking out with your legs but he was too strong; you were helpless. He was usually so calm and collected, but he wasn’t himself when he was with you.

The knife was in his hand before he had time to think, his long strides closing the gap between him and your attacker. With one swift motion, he stuck his arm out, grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck. the sound of your attacker’s skull hitting the concrete reverberated off the brick walls of the buildings, followed swiftly by the sound of metal slicing through flesh. He stabbed the man, again and again, the blood landing on his face, hands and suit. He heard your attacker’s life leave his body, the last blood-filled gurgles as he clung to his pathetic existence. He didn’t stop his assault until you pulled him away. “He’s dead,” you pleaded, your eyes wild with shock. Your dress was torn, exposing your bra and midriff. Your chest rose and fell heavily, the shock of what you’d just witnessed taking its toll on your delicate nervous system. “Are you hurt?” he asked, gripping your face in between his blood-soaked hands. He was the only one who got to touch you like that, who got to see you at your most vulnerable. The animal lying on the floor didn’t deserve you; no one did, expect him.

“You saved me,” you stammered, your hands atop his, your eyes blazing into his very soul. His face was caked in blood, but to you he’d never looked more handsome. This wasn’t how he’d imagined things going, but he needed you right this very moment. One more second without you and he feared it may kill him.

Your lips crashed together in a frenzy, the iron taste of your attacker’s blood mingling with your mixed salvia. Your tongues fought for control, your hands tearing at each other’s clothes. You backed towards your apartment door, careful to stick to the shadows. There was so much blood, so much carnage sprayed on your grey suited man, and you couldn’t risk him being taken from you. You don’t remember making it to your apartment door. There was only you, and him and everything else in the world ceased to exist. He tore at your clothes, ripping your already broken dress from your body. You cried out at the fabric was pulled from your body, watched as he used the bloodstained knife to slice through the underwire of your bra. “You’re mine,” he growled, trailing the tip of the knife down your ribs and across your stomach. Your breathing was jagged as he sliced through the thin fabric of your underwear, leaving you fully exposed before him.

“Lie down,” he instructed, removing his suit jacket and folding it neatly across your chair. You did as you were told, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest you wondered if it might burst straight through your skin. “Spread your legs,” he instructed, smiling when he noticed how wet you were already. You were wet for him, and only him. Your pathetic little whimpers as you waited for him to mount you were heavenly, your feeble attempts at begging making him rock hard. He took his time removing his clothes, making sure his eyes never left yours. He heard you moan as you took in his form, his hard cock standing to attention. He was having trouble restraining himself, was finding it difficult to maintain control. Perhaps, just this once, he could let his guard down.

You both cried out as he entered you, your nails scratching the skin of his back with such ferocity that blood welled to the surface. You both fought for control, your animalistic moans seeping through the thin walls of your apartment. Teeth grazed lips, nails welted the skin, the both of you so desperate and hungry for the mix of pain and pleasure. You shook against him, a mix of adrenaline and desire, you skin so delicate against his. He fucked you into your mattress, slamming into you again and again until he heard the bed slats give way. No matter, he’d simply buy you a new bed, the best money could buy.

When you came, tears streaked your pretty face. It was better than anything his imagination could conjure up. Your lips were puffy, your skin red from the force in which he’d fucked you. he couldn’t hold on much longer, couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of claiming you with his very essence. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he finished inside you, pulling him close so you could take every last drop of him.

You lay in silence afterwards, your lips exploring each other, your fingers trailing down his chiselled form. Your grey suited man was everything you thought he’d be and more. you just hoped you’d be able to keep hold of him.

“I have business to attend to,” he finally said, his fingers chasing the delicate contours of your throat. The body in the alleyway would need to be moved as soon as possible. He hadn’t been careful when exacting his revenge, and mistakes led to dire consequences. “Wait,” you pleaded, as he began to dress. “I don’t even know your name.” He smiled at you, his cock hardening again as he saw the desperation in your eyes. “Patience,” he told you, scolding you as a teacher would a child.

He would see you again, very soon. You’d made it impossible to stay away. one night with you was better than a thousand nights with a thousand women. You were dependent on each other now, two people so hooked on one another that nothing could keep you apart. He had enjoyed playing with your mind, but now it was time for the real fun to begin.

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 ❤︎ | yandere!xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

art by @/syaden8 on twt!!

⟢ cw: a failed escape attempt from them... yandere, dark themes, petnames, mutilation (xiao, scara), violence, drugging (scara) etc. please proceed with caution! thank you.

⟢ "your order's denial is causing me trial !"

"Ah."

XIAO's lips moved, and it was that single noise that escaped.

For your room lay barren, empty, cold, the harsh winter breeze drafting through the shattered window, the bars covering it having been forcibly bent aside. "It..." For a moment, his body swayed, his own legs unable to support his weight. Then, his balance stabilized, his once by a fraction wider eyes having narrowed. "It seems my songbird has escaped."

Unacceptable. The word repeated in his head, like a mantra, a prayer, resounding within his ears, despite the silence, despite the cold that bit at his skin as he trudged through the snow, his spear at his side. A tiny, devilish voice that tugged on his ears and whispered out tales of his sin.

"Found you."

"N-No- please-" His gaze sharpened in annoyance. Desperate, your voice hoarse and cracking by the syllable, hurling yourself forward one more step, just one more, your bloody, bare feet scraped and bruised. This wasn't right, how come you seemed so distressed?

No, you of course sounded better as his songbird, in a pristine little cage, singing for him, and only him, happy tunes of joy and pleasure.

"...And as a songbird can live with its wings clipped, surely you'll understand if I...?"

The shackles locked tight around your wrists, and your useless, wretched legs, bones shattered by a single blow.

It's an unfortunate predicament, but it's the only way. ❤︎

"Oh, so the chase is on?"

CHILDE shouldn't be laughing, but oh, he was.

It's a twisted sound, with the corners of his mouth distorted upwards in a haphazard smile, his eyes blown as a dark flush of red descended upon his cheeks. "So you've decided to play this little game of cat and mouse. Very well, if that's what you want, darling!"

You aren't making this difficult enough. His keen gaze spots all the traces you've left behind, broken branches, ruffled leaves, a torn piece of the clothing he had gifted you... it's all imbued with your essence, honey sweet on his lips.

Why would you even want to leave him?

It's that thought that makes him pause upon finding you, your trembling form sprawled across the bloodied snow as he stands over you, his own shadow casting you in darkness.

That's right, why would you? He's been nothing but loving. He's catered to your every need, has he not? He's bought this house for you, all the clothes you wear, the food you eat, the bed you sleep in... what right did you have to defy his affections, now that he had made them ever so clear?

If anything, it was insulting.

Oh, but did he truly feel insulted? After all, an offended person wouldn't have taken you like that, wouldn't have knocked you unconscious and wouldn't have carried the delicate you in his arms back to home.

Maybe a better description would be "longing." Longing for your praise, longing for your thanks, longing for the smiles you'd send his way... how come your eyes have faded, since then? It's strange, he's never seen you look so... determined before, not since today.

Ah, but what did it matter?

This puny escape attempt of yours... his tongue tasted bitter.

It wouldn't happen again. He'd make sure of it, so please, don't mind the chains, would you? ❤︎

"They... dare?"

SCARAMOUCHE's expression contorts to one of rage, his brows sharply angled downwards and his violet eyes wide, quivering.

Haha... what a fool he was. He should've been more attentive, how had he not noticed your strange movements? The way you gave him a forced smile everytime he returned home, the way you'd greet him at the door with the dinner you made, and he had finally thought you had accepted his confession all those weeks ago, he finally thought you had gotten used to and started liking your life here, finally thought-

And then he thought nothing at all as his body swayed and fell to the ground. The audacity, to go and dig through his things, to go, find, and use the very drug he had used to bring you home.

By the time he awoke, the house was but a cold expanse, barren of your warmth, and he clenched his fists so tightly, his nails kissed red crescents into his skin that weeped with every flex of his fingers.

"To pull such a parlor trick against me like this... ah, doll. Don't think you'll get away with this leniently."

When he found you, not "if", he'll make sure to reprimand you properly. If breaking your spirit wasn't enough, then he'd have to break your mind too. He's already decided that he'll reshape the pure thing with his own, dirtied hands, into something that will burn only for him.

Surely, a couple missing limbs, here and there, wouldn't obstruct that light, would it now? ❤︎

(a/n) as i said on my sideblog, something about writing for toxic mentally distressed emotionally broken and heavily reliant yandere characters who turn to violence to show their love is. just so. oddly... comforting?? was going to make this longer and then some shitty shit shit went down so. yay. tears.

if you enjoyed please consider following me or leaving a note on this post!! they are very appreciated, and i am very close to hitting a follower goal that i want to reach before the new years ! thank you.

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Silliness IV

Jerk Ford's behaviour was way worse while he was in the multiverse because while he was in his own dimension, Stan was there to keep him from going too far, and to mediate his interactions with other people when it came to important business.

Once he fell through the portal? Completely unrestrained.

Here's a small list of some of things he's done across the multiverse:

Un-sunk the mythical City of Atlantis to get back at a 'sh*tty tourist company'

Lifetime ban from all Space Waffle House locations across time and space for inciting a riot because a waitress kept calling him 'honey'.

Had someone legally assigned to permanent Cosmic Jury Duty.

Sowing the seeds of an extremely invasive and fast-growing varient of cucumber all over a large city in the Cat Dimension.

Not giving his two weeks notice at Space Hooters.

Infecting a galaxy-encompassing digital records archive with a virus that changed every third noun with the word 'dick'.

Invading a weed farm on a parallel Earth and replacing the 'mother plant' that all of the other weed plants were cloned from with a strain of marijuanna thats identical in every way, except it produces no THC.

Impersonated one of the Bounty Hunter versions of Ford so he could fake his own death, collect the bounty for himself from the Ford Hate Club, crash the party they threw to celebrate, and then slip away right as the real Bounty Hunter Ford showed up to report that he'd failed to capture Jerk Ford.

---

Remember how in a reverse portal what-if Jerk Ford told Fiddleford he would blow up the planet if he didn't help him rebuild the portal? And Fiddleford called his bluff?

Imagine you're Bill Cipher, and an oddly calm Stanford Pines tells you that in three days, he's going to blow up the Nightmare Realm with you in it.

So you laugh, because he's bluffing.

Two days later, it turns out he wasn't bluffing about blowing up the Nightmare Realm with you in it.

He was bluffing about giving you a third day, because he's a jerk like that.

---

Boss Music? This guy isn't much of a fighter, he isn't a boss fight. It isn't hard to finish a fight with him because he's impossible to beat in a hand-to-hand fight - he isn't very strong compared to most versions of Ford Pines- it's hard to finish a fight with him because he's slippery. He's just going to escape and run if he doesn't think he can win.

If I were to give him a theme song or something, it'd probably be Dangerous by Jorge Rivera-Herrans. Mostly because of the "I have to get home" sentiment.

You have to ignore the fact that he didn't actually get himself home, just like canon Ford his brother had to fix the portal to bring him back.

Bro was at least trying to get back home.

Here's a Jerk Ford Playlist by @tearosepedall

---

Actually, the reverse portal scenario doesn't go quite the way you think it does.

Jerk Ford has to pretend to be Stanley. A school teacher. A resident of society that Gravity Falls actually loves. When he's been an active menace to society his whole life.

Stanley gets shoved into an unforgiving multiverse full of monsters, demons, aliens, and versions of his brother who project their resentment and anger towards their actual twin onto him instead as a proxy.

And they both ask themselves: "What would my brother do in this situation?"

Anyways, this is what happens with Stanley:

And this is what happens with Jerk Ford:

---

Fun fact: Jerk Ford is the reason there's no gnome queen.

While he was studying the gnomes during his researcher years in Gravity Falls, he discovered that the Gnomes only had one female, who was their queen by default.

Anyways he talks to her about how her greatest ambition in life shouldn't be having a hundred husbands and being barefoot and pregnant forever. No, her greatest ambition in life should be being one of the greatest hat models the world has ever known.

Anyways now she lives in New York, she may or may not also be a drug lord in the pixie dust cartel.

Soos, Mabel, and Dipper tried asking the mail box questions once.

It sent them a really long, angry, rambling letter starting with "What the f*ck did you just f*cking say about me, you little b*tch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals,"

Later on Dipper asked Ford about it, and he reveals that he traumatized the entity on the other side of the mailbox by sending it the question "is your refrigerator running?" every day for almost six years straight.

[blackmissfrizzle]

Dracarys

Pairings: Dragon Shifter!Terry Richmond x black!reader

Summary: The reader just wants to be a dragon rider for a bit and Terry is not up for it.

Warnings: None really. This might be the most PG thing I've written. Its fluff and right now the reader and Terry are not in a relationship, just friends.

A/N: This is part of a series of one-shots, rather than a linear series. Some fics will be multiple parts and some will not. This one might have a part 2.

Check out my old ass work here -> My Masterlist

“No, absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I respect myself.”

“I respect you too.”

“Not if you’re asking me to do that.”

“Don’t you love me? Your bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

“Bestest is not a word.”

Terry Richmond was absolutely infuriating. First, he wouldn’t let you ride him and scream dracarys and now he’s correcting your grammar. This is what you get for being friends with an old ass dragon shifter. Where was the YN dragons at?

“Shut the fuck up, Terry.” You stomped behind him, not catching the little smirk that graced his face.

“Oooh, such unladylike language. You know what your mama would do if she caught you cussing like that.”

“Good thing, my mama ain’t here!” How did you, the kinda silly, bend a couple of rules kind of girl end with the strait-laced, strict boy best friend? Probably had to do with him being a couple of centuries old. He must’ve been really lonely. Now he was never getting rid of you.

It took a slow jog for you to catch up to him and smack him behind his head. Terry whipped his head towards you and instead of those stormy green eyes you were met by black slits. “That stopped scaring me months ago. Try something new.” You waved him off, unaffected by his reptilian eyes.

Terry grunted and kept walking. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because it would be cool, and I can be like Danerys or Rhaynera. But the black version of them.”

The only change in his face was a slightly raised eyebrow. If you didn’t know Terry well, you wouldn’t be able to decipher his expression. Right now, this was, ‘I’m gonna correct her ass’ face. “Isn’t there a couple of black Targaryrens in the show?”

You jumped up and down in his face. “I knew you liked watching House of the Dragon! Yeah, they’re from Corlys’ line.”

“The old dread head that never listens to  his snow bunny?”

“THE QUEEN THAT NEVER WAS! RIP to a real one. Nigga, you really do be paying attention.” You were tickled pink. Every Sunday night when you drugged Terry to watch HOTD, the man always acted like he had something better to do.

A minute quirk of his mouth let you know he was amused and not really annoyed with you. “It’s one of the more accurate depictions of dragons, Personality wise at least.” The reactions and commentary of Seasmoke toying with that knight was the best. Terry did have to agree that dragons and cats has similar temperament to a degree,

“I thought of you more like Smaug, greedy and grumpy.”

The low rumble let you know to get your knees to your chest or duck. More than on one occasion, Terry blew fire in your direction. He literally lit a fire under your ass. “Okay, maybe not Smaug. Maybe more like Toothless.” You couldn’t help yourself and egged him on.

“A cartoon dragon?!” He roared.

A huge grin appeared as you ducked under the stream of fire. Haha! A reaction, finally!

“Now, I’m never letting you ride me.” He crossed his arms, making his muscles just *pop*.  God, dragon God, whatever higher power really took their time with this man. What a shame he wasn’t interested. The man or dragon was searching for his mate and that was not you.

“Your loss, big boy.” You patted his chest. “I could’ve rocked your world!” You whined your hips to the music in your head.

A charge of heart and maybe head (lower head), made Terry give in. “Fine,” He sighed, shifting into his dragon. The North Carolian mountains provided the perfect cover. He could cruise the sky without being detected. Also, if needed he possessed the ability to become invisible. A gift from helping a witch long ago.

Giggles and a huge smile consumed you. “I knew you couldn’t tell me no. Now don’t be going fast or trying to throw me off. I know how you like to play too much.” You kissed a scale on his neck.

Of course, he couldn’t tell you no. You were his mate after all and he would do anything to make you happy, even if he felt like a fool.

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Weedequitte

Asks are open my little giggle biscuits!

Scout

He hands that joint back WET

Slobber dripping off the sides, the tips cold when you go to take a puff, and you can see the corner of his mouth glisten

If Scout ever got high he would have munchies and get scared. He would have to go outside and walk around, maybe even hug a tree for comfort

Coughing and gagging in the most annoying way possible. Like that one cat picture with its protruding tongue and watery eyes void of complex thought

Scout couldn’t handle a bong. Just couldn’t. Stick to a cold can of bang! He might try to make a bong outta a bang can, but he won’t figure it out

Soldier

Do not give him weed.

Do not give him anything.

Dont give him any drug hes insane nuts bonkers and, yes, even bananas

He took acid once by mistake. Ended up in Europe a year after the war ended

Soldier is borderline on a good day but king will spiral into a drug induced psychosis. There will be bugs, skin, and a whole lot of paperwork for Medic

Wouldn’t even smoke he’s a total fucking narc too

Says devils lettuce

Demoman

Uses every weed euphemism known to man

Mary J is his fav. Kush, grass, gas, doubie, all of them

Approaches Sniper while the poor bastard making his trek between camper and civilization. Demo does an insinuating chuckle and says, ‘let’s make love to that wee lass Mary J’

Sniper starts running

He prefers drinking but this guy smoked some grass back in the day. Doesn’t fuck around and can pass a blunt without falling out

In half baked, Demo is the guy who gets munchies and accidentally kills the horse

Will smoke with Sniper and always provides what he can or hits a curtesy role, but he doesn’t pursue weed much and if snipes didn’t share, probably wouldn’t smoke

It does help the pain from his missing eye!

Pyro

One time, he got wild.

Pyro burned down an entire pot grow and was absolutely spazzing off that za rolling his way down the mountain

They were on the astral plane the entire hike down. Pyro crashed through the trees, crawled, laughed hysterically, cried, and vomited. Pyro drank water from a creek thinking it was the fountain of immortality

Pyro befrinded a squirrle named Banabo Jo. He knew Jo and knew his people were wise and brave. Banabo Jo recognized Pyro’s mystical capabilities and ability to see beyond, thus creating a mutual respect and brotherhood.

Banabo Jo guided Pyro from the mountain top and into the Heart of the Valley. He watched over as Pyro awaited rescue and gave the sacred squirrel farewell through the van window

(hypersensitive to drug induced psychosis)

Heavy

Rolls a blunt on Medic’s back and smokes it while they fuck

Smokes weed but only pipes. Very rarely will roll with paper, typically in the aforementioned situation

He can do some of the smoke tricks like puffing out O’s. He cannot french inhale and tbh has a chronic stuffy nose 😏

Medic

Wholeheartedly believe in and support the usage of medical marijuana

Smoked a little weed in university, but his classmates were too scared of him to invite him to the smoke sesh

He kinda gives off narc vibes!! Completely chill though, unless he could gain from blackmailing you

Asks if Sniper wants to puff and Sniper is shocked! Medic uses pompous words like oder tho and not the German oder

Arches his back so Heavy can sprinkle some flower on him for the roll-hole ritual

Engineer

Scene in Top Gun, “we’re in the spirit world asshole!” HIM OKAY HIM

Builds intricate and sick as fuck bong structures, dab rigs, and some real crazy stoner shit.

He love getting blazed and tinker with something, but that did cost him the tip of his pinkie finger

He’s a lightweight and really just skims a hit or two and bounces

Totally hotboxes that fucking workshop

Spy

He’s a classy kind of smoker

No weed inside, at least not his house. Very discreet about it and even if he was just in the world’s foggiest hotbox, he would never snell like week

No weed smell ever it’s incredible

Mainly sticks to cigarettes but he will smoke with Sniper.

Smoking, whether it be weed or cigarettes, is a form of foreplay for them fr

He never has cotton mouth either

Sniper!!

Save the best for last bc he is a canon pothead

Sniper just tries to be a chill guy. Go to work, fire a gun, smoke some weed. Would he like more? Sure. But is he okay where he’s at? Good enough

The first to discover his gardening habit was Spy. The whole breaking and entering thing really gives away secrets

Sniper has SO MUCH TEA. Various team members come to him and smoke, which is cool with him. He prefers when they replenish his stash, though. Or at least give him something in return

When they smoke they also complain. Inhibitions are dropped and suddenly Sniper knows that Demo is pissed at Medic for not letting him drink rubbing alcohol, every though Demo knew it would kill him, because he and Pyro were trying to light a burp on fire

He only enjoys smoking with Spy and Ms. Pauling. Pauling is fun and they talk mad shit together, maybe do something stupid on a minor scale

Spy and Sniper venture into the bush if yk what im saying. Weed is just kinda a plus but Spy can get too zesty sometimes

[postcrashcurly]

A short list of Jimmy headcanons I've been tinkering with for a bit. CW: OCD and Hoarding Behavior, Trichophagia, Body Image, and a lot of other triggers tbh it's far too long to list just prepare for anything.

One. On earth, Jimmy has a hoarding problem that stems from not having a lot as a kid. His dad was physically abusive and his mom was emotionally absent, so he wasn't allowed any privacy, personal belongings, or comfort objects. So as an adult he keeps EVERYTHING. Every single birthday card, every receipt, boxes, old clothes, certain food wrapping items and empty cans. It's chaos but it's somewhat organized, and piles move around here and there. It's not necessarily *gross* in the traditional sense. There is no rats or roaches or anything like that- its just overwhelming to the outside observer. It has the potential to be much worse depending.

He compulsively reorganizes his belongings but he'll be sent into a blind rage if he feels he's lost something. Piles move back and forth from the living room and bed room. Certain objects of interest are always within eye-shot, specifically things like gifts or photos. He has a particular affinity towards gift-cards and enjoys the elaborate designs (even though he pretends he doesn't).

Jimmy gets incredibly defensive when anyone offers to help him clean up or move things around and worries greatly that someone may steal from him. The only person who's ever seen the inside of his place is Curly, and he's also the only person Jimmy has ever left unattended in his home. Every so often Curly is able to nudge him to pack things in different areas so it isn't such a fire hazard (because of the hoarding, Jimmy has a massive fear of house fires and losing his things), and so he can have better access to rooms.

The only "clean" areas are the kitchen and bathroom, and they are remarkably clean. This is something Curly doesn't understand but doesn't really bother to question because he knows Jimmy needs to have things a certain way.

Two. As a child Jimmy developed really poor coping mechanisms to deal with his home life. He used to eat his own hair, and because of this his parents always had his hair cut as short as possible. This is why he keeps it long as an adult, and even though he doesn't eat/swallow it anymore he likes to suck and bite on the ends sometimes when he's self-soothing.

Three. Jimmy struggles with his body image and isn't quite sure what he looks like. If you asked him to draw a picture of himself, it wouldn't resemble him well. He feels that he looks much smaller, weaker, and uglier than he really is, for which he overcompensates. This also means he is a lot rougher when making physical contact with people.

It is also why a lot of his clothes are ill fitting.

Four. Jimmy loved cats when he was younger. When he was a kid he used sneak around his parents to feed them dinner leftovers. He was particularly close with a little tabby that cried at his bedroom window every night and he'd always sneak out to pet her. His father grew sick of the strays hanging around the property and put out poisoned food, which unfortunately took out his tabby. To this day, he blames himself for making the cats comfortable enough to take food from his house.

Five. Jimmy has experimented with many drugs and had mostly positive experiences with them. He's particularly fond of Kratom.

Six. Jimmy doesn't try to understand people, he only learns what they expect of him and changes his approach depending on the person. Everyone is so vastly different that he struggles to keep up appearances with most people, so he often latches onto one person (Curly) and puts most of his energy into that.

Seven. Jimmy is the type to give up a hobby if he isn't good at it right off the bat.

Eight. Jimmy can't swim, he doesn't want to swim, and you cannot make him swim. It stems from having a fear of water, specifically fully submerging his head/face.

Nine. Jimmy has food sensory issues. Sometimes he even needs to spit out things he likes because his body refuses to swallow it. To avoid this in public spaces, he takes very small bites and eats very slowly. He orders comfort meals and if he wants to try something new, he'll just pick of the plate of who he's with.

Ten. Jimmy is a Red Bull guy, specifically the Coconut Berry one. This is very oddly specific but it just feels right to me.

Y'all should send me asks with some of your Jimmy headcanons (if you want) because I love to hear other peoples opinions and perceptions of his character, especially if you don't agree with mine I'd love to hear why!

[peaxhygirl]

𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾 𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝙰𝚂 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 - 𝚅𝙸𝙲𝙴 (4)

: ̗̀➛𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝙲

: ̗̀➛𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: [WARNING] There is smut present in this chapter.

: ̗̀➛𝙰𝙽: This is also long, maybe longer than part 3-- I may have over indulged. Hope it doesn't suck!!

Raven laid in her bed doing a mental recap of the night. How had they gone from fighting like cats and dogs, to not speaking, to her being on the verge of begging him to fuck her on the spot just to relieve that dull throb he'd stirred up.

Every thought she had of the night made her feel like she was right there on that dance floor all over again. She could still feel the scruff of his beard tickling her cheek, and it reignited the goosebumps on her skin. She'd been constantly going back and forth about what would drive him to do such a thing. Constantly trying to explain away his actions so she could get some peace of mind and go to bed.

She was coming up with nothing. "You know what, I'm just gonna go ask him." She spoke to herself before rising from her bed. She took one step forward before puasing to look at herself in the mirror. "Girl, no the fuck you not."

The soft knock on the door of his bedroom caused Armando to sigh in annoyance. "If it's Dorn, it's too late to talk about techy shit. If it's Marcus, I don't want to hear about something you weren't even going to tell me, man." His words were met with a brief silence before the door began to creek open.

He didn't move from his position, laid on his back with both hands behind his head. He was relaxed, which was a very rare occasion, so he wasn't going to break that. He simply turned his head to not see either of the men, but to his surprise Raven slowly stepped in.

Even in the shadows and moonlight that seeped through the window, her face was still gorgeous. He eyed her briefly. Noting that she only wore a large t-shirt that read "Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House." Whatever the fuck that meant. "Come in, blackbird." He rasped.

His eyes were trained on her, this wasn't the same woman. She was more timid than usual, softly closing the door and coming to sit on the edge of the bed near him. "Why do you keep calling me blackbird?" Her face softly contorting in confusing. "Because your name is Raven, genius." He smirked.

Raven stared at him for a moment, how was he so casual with everything that'd happened tonight. She had a million questions, and she couldn't think of a single one to start with. "I--I'm sorry for calling you a drug dealer. That wasn't a nice thing to say to someone who's trying to turn their life around." Not only was her demeanor different but so was her voice, it was soft, almost as if she was scared to break the silence of the night.

A warming balm spread across the male's heart. In his life he hadn't gotten many apologies, even when he was clearly wronged. So, hearing this from the same women who threatened to pull her gun out on him just a few days ago was surprising yet appreciated.

Raven on the other hand couldn't deny that this was a beautiful man. That Lowery DNA was something special. She studied each of his features thoroughly in the darkness of the room. Those thick and defined eyebrows accented by dark curly lashes always caught her attention. She hadn't realized how hard she was staring until Armando cleared his throat, ripping her from her trance. "I appreciate that, but tell me, little one. Did you just come here to apologize?"

With that simple question her throat grew dry and her face hot. Why did she come here? What was this going to accomplish? She'd spent ten minutes arguing with herself about this and not once had this crossed her mind. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, what the fuck was she supposed to say?

Armando sat up from his position, his bare muscular chest visible to her doe eyes. "Nah, I know that look. You're looking a little needy right now, baby." His hand gently gripped her chin while he observed her face.

She was practically spewing pheromones all over this room. "Just say the word and I can fix that for you. Cause God knows I've been fantasizing about these lips since we left that club." He spoke to her in the sultriest tone she'd ever herd. His rough thumb pad pressing into her lip and pulling it away from her teeth. His body was now on autopilot as he moved closer to her. Closing the gap between them. Thier lips inches apart, close enough to just gently brush together as his spoke. "Can I take care of you?"

The woman had no audible response, only leaning forward to fully close the space between their lips.

The kiss between these two was much like their dynamics. Feverish, rough, passionate, and yearning for more. Armando wasted no time stripping Raven of her clothes, delighted to see that she wore noting under her shirt.

The dress she wore that night had done no justice compared to the masterpiece of her bare body. "Just relax, baby." His voice was muffled while he kissed along her inner thigh. His eyes darted from her anxious face to the beautiful pink junction between her legs. Just looking at her he could see her juices coating glistening folds.

He licked over his lips before offering her the same release. His tongue traveling up her center. The soft moan that filled the space when he'd brushed against her swollen bud was music to him, it was a sound he'd commit to memory for the rest of his life.

And Raven, poor Raven had lost all of her bravado. Hell, Armando was sucking it out of her- literally. He licked and sucked along her pussy, teasing her when he'd rotate his tongue just around her clit but not fully attaching his mouth to it, not giving her the suction she'd kill for. "Eres la cosa más dulce que he probado en mi vida, nena." "Armando." She was breathless, doing her best to get out her words as her chest heaved. "P-please."

"Please what?" He questioned with a sinisterly teasing tone. "You want more?" His words were followed behind him plunging two of his thick fingers into her. Immediately, her warm walls squeezed him as his pumped his hand. "Oh god." She cried, moving her hips to meet his motions. Finally, Raven took the moment to gaze down at the male who was already staring at her in hunger. "That's right baby, be a good girl and ride my fucking fingers." A shiver ran down her spine at his words, he was going to drive her insane. "Armando, make me cum." Finally gaining some of her wits back, Raven reached down, locking her fingers into his dark hair pulling him back into her center.

Her assertion of her own dominance in this moment caused Armando's rock-hard length to ache even more as happily obliged. Diving back between her legs. This time, his lips finally wrapped her throbbing bud, sucking roughly and swirling his tongue. His fingers continued their assault on her sopping hole. Curving upwards slightly to gently press into the spongy space of her g-spot. She wouldn't last long with this combination and they both knew it.

Her hips writhing against him, pushing herself farther on to his face. "F-fuck Armando. I'm about to c-" She hadn't even been able to finish her statement before her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. He felt her contracting around his fingers, her clit throbbing against his tongue as he continued to lap her at juices until this wave of ecstasy subsided. It'd honestly knocked the sound out of her.

Seconds felt like hours to Raven. The pleasure that shot through her body was something no other man had made her feel. She basically had to pry Armando's mouth from her sensitive core feeling breathless, but he only smirked in pride at the whimpering bundle of nerves he'd just turned her into.

Raven sat up on her elbows, still breathing heavily as she glanced down at his exposed erection. She couldn't help but be mesmerized as he stroked himself. He was beautiful, long, thick, and veiny. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes to meet a lustful stare before turning over to all fours. She positioned herself in an arch that left her head flush to the mattress and her pussy and ass propped in the air exposed to him. "Well." She smiled innocently. "Show me what 'cha got."

That was all he needed to hear from her. He wasted no time positioning himself behind the ass that was as beautiful as he thought it would be. He stared down between the two. Watching as he drug the thick pink tip of his length through those slick folds he'd certainly be tasting again. He took a moment to apply the slightest pressure to her entrance before sinking into her.

She fit around him like a glove, squeezing and engulfing him in warmth and wetness. For Raven, he stretched her walls so deliciously she almost started to drool.

Both of them moaning in unison.

Slower strokes started their passionate session, Armando knew he wasn't small by any means and wanted her to comfortably adjust before things truly got started.

The wet sticky sounds of him slowly working into her were pornographic. With growing speed, he felt her grow better. His hands gripped her hips, thumbs digging into her soft skin as the slapping sounds of their bodies colliding together grew louder. "Joder." he growled, his head tilting back with slightly parted lips and closed eyes.

Raven couldn't believe how wet she'd grown; her arousal coated the inside of her thighs and even created a wet spot on the bed below them. Her body was rocked by Armando's powerful thrusts, damn her being sore tomorrow. She'd enjoy whatever he had to offer now. She allowed herself to come up a bit, moving her hips back to now meet his thrusts. "Throw that shit back, mami. Let me see what you can do." A challenge mirroring her own was all she needed. Immediately Raven began to throw her weight back into him, her ass bouncing off was a sight he'd be storing in his memory bank for a lonely night. Their mixed calls of pleasure and obesities filled the room along with the occasional smack of the ass he gave her.

Eventually. they ended up in a position where Armando was kneeling behind the woman who was practically seated into his lap as she bounced. Armando's large hand tangled itself in Raven's hair, yanking her head back to look at him. The sight of her flushed cheeks and a slight sheen of sweat present on her skin drove him crazy. And fuck did she fit him snugly like she was made for him. Not releasing her, he began animalistic thrusts that caused her to bellow out. "Shit.' She cursed. "Cállate, pequeña. Despertarás a los demás."

His own voice was laced with the need to release. Something they both felt coming once he began to throb inside of her. "Fuck, are you about to cum? Please cum in me, I wanna feel it. Please. I wanna feel you." Her begging cut the last remaining shred of control he had. His thrusts becoming sloppy, short, and shallow as he worked towards his own orgasm. One hand stayed tangled in her hair while the other squeezed at her double D breast and pinched at her hardened nipples. As soon as Armando felt the tensing of his abdominal muscles, he also felt the release as he shot his warm load into her. Raven experienced her own secondary orgasm, their bodies already in sync. Her fingers had been working at her clit, but they both knew it was him coating her walls that threw her over the edge.

Heavy breathing filled the room, neither one of them daring to pull away from the other. Armando placed a kiss on the woman's head. Her hair already starting to curl back up. It took a moment, but eventually Armando managed to pull himself and Raven from the bed. Cleaning them both because he'd honestly worn her out. Her attempt to return to her own room was met by Armando following behind her, stating that she might as well put that bonnet on and get comfortable, because he'd be sleeping with her for the night.

𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

"Eres la cosa más dulce que he probado en mi vida, nena." - You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted, baby.

"Joder." - Fuck

"Cállate, pequeña. Despertarás a los demás." - Quiet down, little one. You'll wake the others.

[seiya234]

21 grams lighter

that website, amirite? anyway can't fucking believe alex did it again.

----

“Uncle Dipper, the school said you had to sign this?”

“Me specifically?”

Hank frowned. “Well, an adult in our house.”

“You’re the first one we found,” Willow added.

Dipper picked up the paper, skimming it quickly and. Oh.

Oh my god.

“Mabel are you in here?”

As the triplets wandered off, task done, a head covered in googly eyes popped out the kitchen door. “Mmmyes?”

Dipper brandished the papers. “Do you remember MADD?”

“Moms Are Down with Drugs? Yeah. We had to do those worksheets, and go to that rally in the gym, and there was a dog in a jacket.” Mabel paused. “Also, I don’t think they actually knew what it meant when you say you’re down with something.”

“Okay, so MADD… but for selling your soul.”

The googly eyes, with impeccable comedic timing, all fell off of Mabel’s face.

“No.”

“Oh my god, there’s a pamphlet.”

By now, Mabel had joined him at the table. “’Soul Selling: Not Even Once!’ Oh. Oh Dipper, this is bad.”

He was trying to hold in peals of laughter. “I know!”

“I don’t think this is going to discourage anyone.”

“I know.”

“And look, they basically give you the directions to summon five different demons in the name of Not Doing That, this is really, really bad.”

“I̶t̷'̴s̵ ̸f̸a̷n̶t̸a̴s̶t̷i̸c��!̴”

Mabel looked at him, just looked at him for a minute, sadness welling deep in her eyes.

“No. No it’s really not.”

------

Trillions.

A number that is truly incomprehensible, much less in the context of time.

There were souls that rotted in that stomach longer than the oldest rocks of Earth.

--------

[from the M.A.D.D. Brochure, 2285]

“So remember kids, selling your soul doesn’t just effect you. It effects every version of you! It is an indelible mark that will linger for eternity, never changing, never going away. Paths, choices, loved ones, all will wither in the face of the horrible decision that you made! Eternity is forever, don’t make it your fault!”

[penciled in the margins, a note: “so we aren’t going to talk about social inequality or systemic racism then are we?”]

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

(the most eternal, sacred part of a being)

Dipper had been a demon for all of a month, if that, when he was offered his first soul. For a while, he… didn’t really do anything with them.

When he did, it was of course super traumatic for everyone involved but eh, that kind of went with the territory of everything that was happening in his life lately.

Point being, he never was sure why Bill kept everyone trapped inside of him, constantly screaming, constantly playing beach tunes to drown them out. No, better to eat them, get the power, set them free.

Like, obviously, not great to be eating souls in the first place, and yeah, yeah, he could tell, even ten thousand (ten million) (ten billion) years later who he had crunch munched through, but like, they were able to be out there living their lives! Doing stuff. Cycling back through.

Honestly. What had Bill been planning to do with them?

--------

For the first week after it happened, animals ran away from Mabel.

Not just cats and dogs but all animals. Flocks of birds would fly off at her approach, deer would get near the Shack and then run off, and Gompers disappeared into the woods.

After the bear ran screaming from her, Mabel put two and two together, and called Dipper.

“Is this forever?”

Dipper frowned. “What do you mean?”

Mabel waved at her body. “This.”

(it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair she was only 16/18/22/17, she didn’t mean for this to happen, she only wanted to live, he only wanted her to live, this wasn’t f a i r )

“Oh. Uh. Um.”

“Dipper. Just. Tell. Me.”

“Hold on.” He reached into his stomach, and pulled out something…. Ineffable.

It felt like every single cell in Mabel’s body was reaching towards it, she found herself walking towards Dipper’s open hand.

The demon looked at her.

“You can have it back.”

She was crying. When did she start crying? And more worryingly, why did it feel like this was the first real, true thing she had felt in a week?

He pushed the Ineffable thing into her chest, and Mabel sank to the ground, sobbing. She felt whole again.

She didn’t realize that she hadn’t been whole, not truly, not until now.

Alcor smirked. “Consider it… out on lease. I’ll take it back eventually.”

She should have challenged him on that. Should have asked him about that. Should have done a million trillion other things.

But Mabel was human. And scared. And so, so very young.

---------

(you were birds)

A young man with fluffy brown hair, mixing his blood with his sister and his new brother-in-law, making a promise.

(you were trees with roots entangled)

They made a family together, it was a beautiful family, they let him stay, stay when anyone else would have told him to leave.

(wherever we go next, whatever you choose, I will always be right there with you)

They fit, like spoons in a drawer, like yin and yang, salt and pepper, ketchup and mustard, literally a million different pairings you could compare the two of them to. They weren’t perfect but love doesn’t need to be, and shouldn’t be perfect.

(that’s done buddy)

One grave

(congratulations)

Another grave, but eighty years later.

(you chose Alcor instead)

[spdraws]

All of my current Leverage and Leverage Redemption headcanons!!!!!

• Every night, Eliot checks that everyone is asleep in their beds, checks the locks on the doors, and makes sure the security system is working.

• It really freaked Breanna out the first time she saw Eliot severely injured. Hardison's stories made Eliot seem invincible. Eliot had to hug her and assure her that he was alright.

• Sophie hates Converse and Vans. Like she has some extreme beef with them.

• Breanna and Harry play Pokemon Go together often. Breanna is Team Instinct and Harry is Team Mystic and they fight over gyms all the time.

• Harry knows how to braid hair because when he was still married, his wife insisted that he should be able to do his daughter's hair.

• Eliot has an entire cupboard of drugs, mostly painkillers, ambiguously labled. He has received calls from every single girl on the team boiling down to, "Eliot, I'm on my period, and I can't figure out which of your stupid white bottles is ibuprofen." He's become quite used to it, and now keeps a special area of the cupboard for period stuff.

• Parker steals a stuffed toy whenever the con involves a store owned by an evil person. She's amassed quite a big collection, but bunny will always be her favorite.

• Hardison, with contributions from Parker and Eliot, now sends so much money to Nana that Nana was able to save up to buy a new house in a better neighborhood for all her foster kids.

Edit: she instead invests in supporting local community programs because people have enlightened me that nana wouod never move

• Harvey and Brenna text terribly made memes to each other all the time.

• Breanna's contacts are as follows:

Eliot: Wallmart Batman

Sophie: 👑SLAY QUEEN👑

Hardison: 👨🏿‍💻

Parker: 🐈‍⬛️Cat Burglar🐈‍⬛️

Harry: STUPID LITTLE LAWYER MAN

• Weekly movie night choices:

Sophie: Downtown Abby

Parker: Finding Nemo

Eliot: The Last Mohican/Rocky

Harry: The Spy Next Door

Breanna: Sonic (for the memes only)

• Eliot's room is the comfort room. Bad dream, feeling kinda sick, a recent con weighing heavily in mind, go to Eliot's room. He's almost never asleep, he knows more than anyone about first aid, and he gives the best hugs. He'll act all annoyed, but he'll always make the whumpee stay until they feel better.

• Everyone assumes Sophie can sew because she's the mom friend, but she has no clue. The team seamstress is actually Harry.

• Eliot keeps an ever-growing list of everyone's favorite foods. He keeps extra ingredients around, so he always has what he needs to whip something up if someone's having a bad day.

• Breanna can be extremely petty when she wants to be. She has been known to hack alexas to say creepy stuff out of nowhere and streetlights to turn each one red just to mess with people.

• Harry really loves dogs.

• Sophie once owned a turtle named Mistress Shellington that now belongs to her daughter.

• Harry's favorite color is yellow.

• Breanna forcing everyone to see the Barbie may not be the worst thing to ever happen to him, but Eliot ranks it pretty high on his list of life tragedies.

• Sophie has noticed that Eliot, when it comes to Parker and Breanna, will always grab them (hand, elbow, shoulder) when crossing the street. Nobody gives him any grief for it because they know he just wants to keep them safe.

• Breanna, from upstairs: ELIOT WHAT'S AN 8-TRACK TAPE?

Eliot: *deep sigh* I'm so old.

Harry: *chokes on drink*

• There are so many dents in the walls, and Sophie loves each one. Scrapes from Parker's grappling equipment, divots from Eliot's throwing knives, dents from Breanna's drones. It makes the HQ feel like home.

• Harry is an honorary girly. Girls' night is more like girls plus Harry night.

• Hardison has a note on his phone of things Breanna has said that make him feel old.

• Eliot has resigned himself to the fact that he will be Parker's and Breanna's personal jungle gym until his dying day. Parker pokes his bruises and climbs all over him, and uses his shoulder as a pillow. Breanna is almost the same. She punches and pokes him, just like Parker, and she often lays her head in his lap when watching tv.

Sophie has a picture on her desk of Breanna, asleep in Eliot's lap, and Parker, asleep against Eliot's shoulder. Eliot has one arm around Parker, the other caressing Breanna, tucking her fly away hair behind her ear. A calm smile is on his face. It's one of Sophie's favorite pictures.

• Eliot follows the sidewalk rule at all times.

• Eliot always sits facing the door. If the team is somewhere in public and one of the others takes the seat with the clearest view of the entrances and exits, he will make them switch seats with him so he can see the doors. It's a military habit.

• Parker hides chocolate in the vents so that nobody else can find it.

[hollywoodroses]

We need freaky ass duff, like disgustingly freaky, not like shit kink, but yk what I mean, make it pounding into when he’s sweaty and using a lots of toys and idk just freaky shit THANK YOU!!!!! YOUR WRITING IS FUCKING AMAZING

OMFG, Thank you so much! I’m glad people like my dirty mind and writing style. 😘

peep show (a requested duff mckagan story)

While visiting the red-light district in amsterdam, duff gets dragged into a wild x-rated experience.

warnings: very heavy smut including: exhibitionism, voyeurism, use of toys, pain!kink pet!play, choking!kink, mommy!kink. reader just gets off on duff’s sexy body. language including sexual language. heavy fem!slash, mild drug use and drug hallucination.

a/n: hi anon, I tried to make this one as dirty as possible. I hope you like it, I’m nervous for this one. 🥺

mdni

Summer 1988 - Amsterdam (10pm local time)

It was the middle of Guns N’ Roses appetite for destruction tour in Europe. The band was taking a few days off and checking out the night-life. Duff was currently in a cafe, having lost track of his bandmates. He was offered a pill to take with his coffee, too curious for his own good he took the pill without asking any questions. It only took a few minutes for the medicine to do its magic and suddenly Duff was on an LSD trip. He saw a powerful light which caused him to leave the cafe in order to get rid of the uneasy feeling. Not realizing where he was going, he ended up in the infamous red-light district.

Duff was in shock as he saw half dressed men and women walking very openly in the streets, literally dragging people into the pornographic shows. He came up to an open window which showed every sex act known to human nature. He got up close as he watched two naked women swap spit with each other, a chill going down his spine.

One of the women noticed him and kissed him through the window egging him on to join her. Duff was curious but curiosity killed the cat as he joined her in the fun.

Meanwhile, you were watching Duff from the open door of the sex-house wondering why the small little lost kitten was being a bad boy. You are naked with a clear shall wrapped around your oily body. You walk towards the two women who are playing with your pet. You grab a collar and a leash that was on a table and once you get close enough to Duff, you step outside from an opening on the side of the window.

You lightly put your hand on Duff’s chest which started to feel wet from his sweat after taking the pill. Taking his shirt in your hands, you grab it and rip it open hearing him moan for you. You whisper dirty words in his ear which causes him to lay his head on your shoulder, a perfect way to give your kitten the collar he deserves.

When Duff feels the collar around his neck his eyes go wide in shock. You push him to his knees and proceed to walk him like an obedient pet. Duff walks on his hands and knees, whimpering from pain. He feels his cum drip out of his dick seeming to be turned on by the whole experience. He couldn’t wait to rail you until you are screaming in ecstasy.

You walk him into the building and sit on a chair, encouraging Duff to sit in your lap. He grinds into your pussy and you moan while closing your eyes. You want to feel him close to you but you get sidetracked when he licks your lips, you can’t help but moan at the whole situation. You start to heavily make-out with him, your eyes are in shock as he begins to suck on your tongue. Feeling yourself get hot, you push him down on the floor in front of you. He slowly starts to lick your pussy feeling you dripping for him makes him even more excited.

You can’t help but blush, he keeps licking and sucking your pussy that you shout as you squirt in his face. Some of the liquid ending up in his mouth, you praise him at how well he behaved. You pull Duff into your arms and kiss him, sticking your tongue down his throat. Feeling your nipples go hard, Duff starts to suck on your chest while dry humping you. You watch as sweat starts to drip on his body. You can’t help but lick his sweet water, a moan getting lost in your throat.

Your hand finds a vibrator as you kiss Duff passionately, rubbing it on his dick as the other half rubs your pussy. You can feel Duff straining to speak, you hear him moan “mommy” like a religious mantra as the vibrator slips from your wetness and falls to the ground.

“That’s right baby, keep going. I know you want me.” You reply with lust in your eyes.

You smile as you literally feel like you own him.

Duff sees a toy dick on the table next to you, as you can’t help but rub against his body while feeling like a whore. He smiles wickedly as he takes it in his hands and starts fucking you with it. Loving hearing you moan like a porn star made him even more wild for you. He drops the toy and lets go of you to undress himself, sitting back in your lap. He begins to rail you until your a screaming mess. Duff laughs as he lightly puts his hand around your neck to get a rise out of you. To his surprise, you roll your eyes back and lean your head over the chair, moaning. Your voice gets the attention of the two women from earlier, one of the women smiles as she was the one that got you to join the sex house. She’s so proud of you, she walks up behind your chair where you are leaned back as kisses you while your head is upside down. Covering Duff’s hand around your neck with her own. When she takes your tongue in her mouth you orgasm so hard you see stars.

You kiss Duff with so much passion you feel a pain in your heart that you have to let him go. After Duff gets dress, you kiss him one last time, sneaking a note in his pocket as he leaves the wild world behind.

the end

[raribella]

To Say “I Love You” Right Out Loud | JJ Maybank

summary: JJ revisits his childhood and how he grew up with you through every side of life until he finally understands why this makes you so special

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

genre: fluff, a spark of angst

contains: a combo of “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell and Love Actually (2003), mentions of death and child abuse. John B and JJ are childhood friends in this. I don’t know how to write dialogue. Drug usage (beer, weed).

word count: 6k

author’s note: I was immediately triggered by Joni’s astonishing performance at the Grammy’s and by remembering that the song is in one of my favorite movies. This is my favorite fanfiction I’ve probably ever written and I put so much time and love into this I really hope you like it.

This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.

Rows and flows of angel hair, and ice cream castles in the air; and feather canyons everywhere. I looked at clouds that way. But now they only block the sun, they rain and they snow on everyone; so many things I would have done, but clouds got in my way.

College had finally ended. They had finally done it. Against all odds and contrary to the expectations of others, the pogues were finally free to embark on their own paths. And so, they gathered for one last celebration, a bonfire near the Cat's Ass, surrounded by shotguns, snacks, and reminiscing in the familiar feeling of just being together.

Spreading themselves along the space at the Chateau's yard, most of them ended up divided the comfortable water at the tub and the warmth of the fire, their laughter mingling with the sound of running water as they shared stories of what each of them could remember of their time roaming the Outer Banks as this fearless gang; the sentiment of each flashback was being intensified from the time they spent apart. As they were the pogues, it was not like their time together was abruptly interrupted, but the responsibilities and the minor distance happened during college, and they couldn't run away from it's effects; but the memories of those days seemed tattooed into their hearts and minds as they could recall every moment in lighthearted detail.

In a corner of the Cat's Ass, JJ found himself lost in a sea of memories, surrounded by the comforting embrace of his friends. You sat beside him in the water, the coolness soothing against your skin, while Cleo and Pope nestled comfortably at his other side. Outside, John B, Sarah, and Kie laughed and joked, their voices carrying on the night breeze. As he watched them, a faint, nostalgic smile tugged at the corners of JJ's lips, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared history, thinking back on how far they had come. They had started as a trio—himself and the Routledge twins, bound together by fate and circumstance.

The tree of you lay sprawled out on the sand for what seemed like hours, your eyes tracing the ever-changing shapes that danced across the sky. Castles, pirates, turtles—your imaginations ran wild, weaving tales of adventure and intrigue as you watched the clouds drift lazily overhead. At nine years old, you had joined your brother and JJ just a few moments ago, after spending the afternoon at a friend's house watching a Christmas movie, "Love Actually," with her mother.

As you settled into the sand, JJ couldn't resist a playful jab at the movie, dismissing it as a "dumb chick flick." his mind still floated between that child-like distaste of girls and the appreciation of you tagging along with him and John B back then. You swatted at him, your tiny arms barely reaching his chest, but it only elicited a smirk from the blond pogue. It was nice for you to actually share a moment with a nurturing figure at the absence of your own mom, who had just recently left for Colorado. Besides, you had eaten a whole bag of M&M's that she bought for you to share and you really liked the movie, even if it was funny how sometimes Mia's mom would tell you to close your eyes, your ears, or how sometimes you didnt really catch why she was laughing at some weird scene. You just rolled your eyes and brushed JJ's comment off, suggesting the sky gazing then relishing in the opportunity to spend time with him and your brother.

Your days were often filled with moments like this, carefree and full of laughter, the sound echoing against the backdrop of crashing waves. JJ's mother would eventually come to fetch the three of you, ushering you inside for sweet treats and cozy nights spent squeezed together in JJ's tiny room. Or you'd spend hours playing in the grass, watching as the river met the sea, until Big John's bell rang out, signaling the end of another day. You would get home covered in dirt, JJs hair color nearing yours and your brothers, so you would have a nice shower and come out to your dad telling treasure tales and making you hot chocolate.

One day, as Big John finished building a set of three swings for you, JJ's parents arrived. Standing side by side, the couple had brought beer and peanuts to complement what your dad already had inside for the night. That day, you were playing for hours, your small frame struggling to mount the swing until the duo stepped in to help. John B had made a mess while trying to help you hop on, and  JJ stepped forward to push you, but in excited haste, he pushed too hard, and you tumbled to the ground, scraping your knee. As your first cry pierced the air, the adults rushed to your side, JJ's mother soothing your pain with stinging medicine and comforting words.

In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of JJ, guilt etched on his face as he watched you wince in pain. But your brother nudged him, urging him to shake off his guilt and claiming that this was just a mere blip in the larger scale of the adventure you lived today.

And as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the beach, Luke took charge, setting a bonfire ablaze near the ancient tree in the backyard. The flames flickered casting shadows that stretched out against the sand. You gathered around the fire, marshmallows in hand to be skewered and toasted, laughter filled the air and echoed into the night. The hours slipped away unnoticed, so as the night wore on and the fire burned low, reluctantly, you bid farewell to your blonde friend as he left with his parents.

The life you lived was simple; living in the less fortunate side of the island, you couldnt really enjoy much more than moments like these; the food wasn't fancy, the drinks weren't expensive, your houses weren't pretty and big, so you relied mostly in home made playthings and your own imagination, but you were happy that way; the youthful innocence made all the diferences between you and the kooks be seen with rose coloured glasses, and while in the company of your brother, your best friend, and the team of parents that you saw as guardian angels, it all just seemed warm. It seemed like it would be fine.

One day, though, just as the sky turns cloudy at the end of summer, signaling the onset of storm season, JJ's demeanor shifted, casting a shadow over his usual brightness. At fourteen now, he had been seeming distant and preoccupied at school for weeks, until one day after class, he reached out to you with a heavy heart. Fidgeting nervously, his hands clammy and cold, he confided in you about his mother's illness, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air. Knowing how much his mother meant to you both, he sought solace in sharing his burden with you, trusting you with his vulnerability. "Mumma's sick, I think... been in the hospital for a while now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't visit because I'm not sixteen yet... I- I wanted you to know, but you can't tell John B." And as you hugged him, you promised to keep his secret, the first one you kept just between the two of you.

And as JJ clung to you and John B in the solemn silence of the cemetery, the stark reality of their loss weighed heavily upon you, casting a shadow over your once bright and colorful world.. JJ's mother's absence lingered like a specter in their home, his father grappled with the weight of his grief, seeking solace in alcohol and spiraling into a downward spiral of despair. The once vibrant hues of their family life began to fade, replaced by the darkness of addiction and aggression. JJ watched helplessly as his father's temper flared more frequently, his outbursts leaving scars both physical and emotional. The sanctuary of their home became a battleground, each day a struggle to navigate the minefield of his father's unpredictable moods.

In the aftermath of his mother's passing and the turmoil within his home, JJ withdrew into himself, building walls around his heart that even his closest friends struggled to breach. He became increasingly unreachable, his once vibrant presence dimmed by the weight of his grief and the scars of his father's aggression. Some days, he would disappear altogether, only to reappear with a purple eye hidden beneath dark glasses, a silent testament to the struggles he faced behind closed doors. And when he did show up, his demeanor was somber, his face etched with a perpetual frown as he rejected activities he once enjoyed. Even cloudgazing at the beach became a source of frustration for JJ, as he lamented the impending rain or the end of summer, his words tinged with bitterness and resignation. As you and your brother looked on, helpless in the face of his pain, you could only watch as JJ retreated further into himself, the vibrant colors of his spirit muted by the shadows that engulfed him.

The tension crackled in the air as you confronted JJ, frustration bubbling to the surface like a storm about to break. "Why won't you just watch 'Love Actually' with me, like, once? It'd help distracting you, y'know!?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation. "You can't keep avoiding fun, JJ. You can't lose hope and light just because things are tough."

But JJ's response was sharp, his tone laced with bitterness. "Those things are for kooks, y/n" he retorted, his words heavy with the weight of his pain. "Pogues can't afford to indulge in luxuries like love and hope. We have to focus on surviving you know."

Your heart sank at his words, feeling the distance between you grow with each passing moment. "If you really look for it, JJ," you countered softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've got a sneaky feeling that love is all around. Even for us Pogues." But JJ's expression remained hardened, his walls firmly in place as he turned away, the gap between you widening with each step he took.

John B stepped in a while later, his voice calm but firm as he defended his friend. "He's been through a lot," John B interjected, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of empathy and understanding. "Give him time, he'll come around. I know he will."

But despite John B's reassurances, the weight of your worry and frustration bore down on you like a heavy burden. Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you sought solace in the arms of your father, tears streaming down your cheeks as you poured out your heart. "I didn't mean to be petty," you sobbed, your voice choked with emotion. "But I'm just so worried about how Luke has been treating JJ. I miss him, Dad. I miss the way things used to be." And as your father held you close, comforting whispers soothing your troubled mind, you cried yourself to sleep, longing for the comfort of simpler times and the warmth of JJ's presence by your side.

A few days after the heated exchange, JJ found himself drawn to the familiar solace of the beach. As he laid alone on the sand, the rhythmic sound of the waves echoing in the background, he cast his gaze upward, chuckling at the shifting shapes and colors of the clouds above. Yet, amidst the tranquility of the moment, a pang of longing stirred within him.

Reflecting on recent events, JJ realized that he had begun to see clouds from two distinct perspectives—from the highs and lows of life's tumultuous journey. But amidst the solitude, his mind drifted to an understanding; to how he seemed to have looked at clouds like this from two different perspectives now, from up and down, and still he would recall better colorful and elusive memory of your company. He remembered the joy of pointing out funny shapes at the sky with you and your brother, laughter echoing into the vast expanse. It was a memory painted in hues of warmth that contrasted with the darker shades of recent events. In that fleeting moment of recollection, JJ yearned to return to that moment exactly, to say sorry, at least. And alone at that same beach, he felt like he had a perspective of a future for the first time in a long time. He wanted to see if he truly knew clouds at all, or if there was a new side to it.

JJ was abruptly brought back to reality by Pope's punchline of a memory of his own; he was retelling the story of how he met Cleo at college, and how she wouldn't have passed half her subjects f it wasn't for him. As the group erupted into laughter, he did the same to mask the fact that he had zoned out for a minute, but JJ's gaze instinctively sought yours, his heart yearning for the comfort of your smile. And as his eyes met yours, a warmth spread through him, his thoughts drifting to another memory

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels; the dizzy dancing way that you feel as every fairy tale comes real. I've looked at love that way. But now it's just another show, and you leave 'em laughing when you go. And if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.

At sixteen years old, you had a full understanding of the dizzying, electric sensation that washed over you whenever JJ emerged from the sea, his board in hand. It was a feeling that stirred deep within you, igniting a spark that refused to be extinguished. Yet, despite the intensity of your emotions, uncertainty plagued your heart. You couldn't decipher JJ's true feelings for you; for every significant gesture or word he offered, there was an equal measure of aloofness or distance.

There were moments when JJ's actions spoke volumes, leaving you breathless with hope and anticipation. But just as quickly, he would retreat into himself, leaving you to question whether his affections were genuine or merely fleeting. And then there were the times when he would disappear into the crowd at a kegger, his attention captured by another girl, leaving you to grapple with the ache of unrequited longing.

Fearing the consequences, you kept your emotions hidden from your brother, John B, despite his keen intuition and suspicions about your lingering glances. Instead, you found solace in the companionship of Pope and Kiara, the only other pogue girl. Your friendship with Kiara blossomed rapidly, providing a safe haven where you could confide in her about everything, including the complexities of your feelings for JJ, seeking her guidance and understanding.

In December of that same year, a vivid memory remains etched in your mind—the day JJ was meant to pick you up from work and take you to the Chateau to meet up with the rest of the crew. Kiara had proposed the idea of a secret Santa, with the stipulation that the gifts could only be candy or chocolate—She herself aiming to guarantee that she'd get a bag or two of Sour Patch Kids. As you exited the souvenir shop, clutching your own "Paradise On Earth" cap, you spotted JJ waiting for you by the Twinkie—the van John B claimed would be safer than the bike. With both hands hidden behind his back, you shot him a questioning look. "Hello?" you greeted tilting your head slightly to the side, to which he responded with a playful smile, feigning surprise at seeing you. "Oh, hello ma'am, your carriage is right here!" he exclaimed, extending his arms towards the open door of the van, one hand tightly clutching something that piqued your curiosity. Hopping onto the Twinkie, you couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious object as JJ closed the door and took his place behind the wheel.

During the ride, JJ attempted to coax the name of your secret Santa out of you, but you remained tight-lipped. Upon parking the van at the Chateau, he sat in silence for a few moments, and you studied him intently. "Oh, before I forget," he said non-chalantly, reaching into his pocket and offering you the object he had been concealing—a ceramic lobster adorned with a tiny Christmas hat, clearly crafted by him. "This is for the nativity scene you keep in your room, I just didn't have time to make the other one..." he explained, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he confessed that he hadn't received your name for the candy exchange but couldn't bear to leave you without a gift.

You stood in awe for a moment, marveling at the thoughtful gesture and the evident reference it held. JJ's apprehension melted away as your eyes met his, a radiant smile spreading across his face. "Wait, wait, wait... Are you trying to tell me that there was more than one lobster at the birth of Jesus?" you quoted, teasingly. JJ rolled his eyes playfully, completing the reference with a loud "duh!" his laughter mingling with yours as you stepped out of the car into the moonlit night, making a lighthearted entrance at the Chateau and eliciting a knowing look from Kiara towards John B.

As time passed, you welcomed Sarah into the fold, introduced by John B with starry-eyed affection that spoke volumes of their budding romance. With the dynamic between her and Kiara settled, John B wasted no time in proudly declaring their relationship to the group—a declaration met with hugs, smiles, and lighthearted jokes about not hurting each other.

One day, Sarah suggested a surf trip to a lesser-known beach nestled between Figure 8 and the Cut, its pristine beauty a sight to behold with crystalline waters and powdery white sand. As you surfed the afternoon away, basking in the warmth of the sun, you found yourself sprawled on the sand along with the rest of the group, supporting yourself on your elbows and catching your breath as you watched JJ roll a joint with practiced ease. "I like this shit," JJ declared, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance. "We can be neglected misfits or whatever, but I love leading this life with you guys. I don't even care about what people think of me! "long as I have a board and you guys, 'm gonna be saying I'm rich... Especially if I have this!" He gestured towards the joint, his words met with cheers from the group.

Your smile started weak but grew as the group cheered. In that moment, you felt a sense of family, and your appreciation for JJ weighed heavily on your chest. Despite the challenges, he had found a way to see life in a positive light, even after Big John went missing. As the wind blew sea salt into your eyes, you turned your face toward JJ. "Yeah, yeah… you know, I keep saying it… but if you really look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that—"

"Y/n, if I hear that quote just one more time!" Sarah interrupted, and the others joined in with her lighthearted protest.

With time, JJ's behavior became increasingly perplexing since after sharing moments like this, he would leave you alone, retreating into the company of the other Pogues with a suddenness that felt jarring and awkward. His focus would shift, his attention consumed by their own banter, leaving you to wonder where you fit into the equation.

It was during these moments of isolation that doubts crept in, whispering of insecurities and unspoken fears that lingered just beneath the surface. Wondering if you did something wrong, you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as you watched JJ immerse himself in the dynamics of the group, his laughter mingling with theirs as you stood on the sidelines, a silent observer to a world that felt increasingly distant and unfamiliar.

One morning, as you shuffled through the Chateau's corridors, the aroma of breakfast lingering in the air as John B shuffled through the kitchen, you noticed JJ's door ajar. You peeked inside with the intention of wishing him a good morning, only to be met with a sight that shattered your makeshift reality of him. JJ hovered over another girl in his bed, their closeness echoing a betrayal that left you speechless.

"Hey, whoa! Sorry!" His voice softened as he realized it was you, not your brother, at the door. The shock on your face was palpable as you hastily pushed the door closed, shaking your head to dispel the image burned into your mind. Stumbling down the corridor, you muttered a distant "morning" to Kie and Pope, who were still groggy on the couch, woken by the commotion.

Throughout the day, both JJ and yourself moved in a state of flustered avoidance, exchanging glances laden with sheepish guilt. JJ's eyes mirrored the remorse of a caught wrongdoer, but you couldn't summon anger; instead, you carried the weight of hurt and confusion, grappling with the realization that he wasn't yours to claim.

As the day waned and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Chateau, you found solace on the hammock. With the remnants of the day lingering, you confided in Sarah about the events, the words tumbling out as the weight on your chest grew heavier. The hammock cradled you in its gentle sway as another day ended, leaving you to confront the tangled emotions that now clouded the once-clear skies of your friendship with JJ.

JJ vividly remembered June of the following year, with your birthday fast approaching. Usually, you wouldn't stop talking about how much you loved having your birthday during the summer, and everyone would plan something special to mark the occasion. Kie and Sarah would always get you fancier gifts, like a new top or necklace, while the boys made sure there was a cake to share, probably under the tree lights at another night spent at the Cat's Ass, chuckling at the stupid name JJ had given to the tub.

But this year was different. You and the girls wouldn't stop talking about this idiotic touron, Jeremy, who had apparently flirted with you when you helped him at the store. Now, your attention seemed solely focused on him, much to JJ's annoyance. He rolled his eyes and huffed aloud whenever Jeremy's name was mentioned, with Pope nudging him to keep his cool.

"He's gonna take me to a summer fair," you grimaced, looking into the mirror as Kiara clasped a necklace around your neck. Sarah and JJ hovered on the kitchen counter, Pope sat on the couch, and your brother leaned against the doorframe of your room with a protective frown on his face. John B always believed you and JJ would end up together, and he felt safe with that perspective because he knew and trusted JJ. But that didn't happen with Jeremy.

Across from him, you, Sarah, and Kie giggled with scenarios and provocations, "What if he brings you a giant teddy bear and tries to win you a goldfish?" Kiara teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Sarah snickered. "I can already picture it!"

Meanwhile, JJ fought to keep a frown from appearing on his own face. He was unwilling to let you know how he really felt about the situation, and he avoided giving his jealousy away to his friends. As you exited laughing with the guy in his car—a godforsaken Jeep, for crying out loud—JJ was still unknowingly clenching his jaw, his mouth twisted in a disgusted frown.

Sarah, the only one still outside by now, smiled to herself and snuck up on him before reaching a hand to pat his back. The gesture was meant to silently convey far more than his poisoned mind could grasp at the moment.

He chuckled at that memory; you had to endure a girlfriend of his own during college, and he watched as two or three other guys broke your heart as well—he wanted to go out there and punch them every time, but preferred that only John B externalized that thought. From those memories, he realized he had looked at love from both sides of it with you, from give and take, but years later he wasn't so sure if you'd be keen on the idea of him ever again. JJ turned to you in the tub, whispering, "Where's that lobster I gave you that Christmas?" You were a bit taken aback by his sudden recall but smiled back, mimicking the tone of his voice, "Been keeping it on my bookshelf all year long now."

John B and Sarah were now playfully arguing about the two perspectives from when she joined the group, with Kie tagging along to remind them of how they had to make amends beforehand. It made JJ come back fully into the scene. As he looked around, he realized they were sitting in couples, at least Pope and John B, and he held back a nostalgic smirk at the thought of how his younger self would react to both his old friends now "pussy whipped," stuck in relationships and breaking the "no pogue on pogue macking" rule—he didn't know love at all.

He was different too, at least Kiara said so, coming at him a few days ago before graduation with a whole "you've changed, became more yourself and know how to separate what you went through from what you are, I'm so proud you're opening the surf shop—but please make it eco-friendly" speech. It was nice to look back and realize how his years and moments with the Pogue family kept balancing out all the rest. Now he would open a sick surf shop, Poguelandia flag above it and all, right in the corner from the souvenir one you worked since you were fifteen—he didn't know if you had bigger plans than that after graduating though, but that was an uneasy thought he preferred to ignore.

Tears and fears and feeling proud to say, "I love you" right out loud! Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way. Oh, but now old friends they're acting strange, and they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed. Well something's lost, but something's gained, in living every day.

Kiara was the first one to leave, claiming that this was really good and that she knew that with the pogues there were never really goodbyes, but that she had an early morning tomorrow with a sea-turtle project. Then, as the fire died out and the minutes turned into hours, the two couples left as well. Pope and Cleo claimed that they still had to shower before going to bed, and John B only snuggled with Sarah, pushing her towards the house. As the couple giggled, JJ noticed from his peripheral vision when you jiggled your eyebrows at Sarah, but the blonde only winked at you, pointing at the both of you at the tub before turning back. You sighed, distancing yourself from him now that you had more space in the water, and JJ held back a smile as the tree lights illuminated your pink cheeks. At twenty-two, he felt just like a teenager in that moment.

There were a few quiet minutes then, you were looking intently at him, drawing each of his features with your eyes as if trying to tattoo the image of his wet torso on your brain, but JJ didn't notice; he was lost in thought, provoked by being alone with you again. JJ realized that ever since he could remember, even though your brother was his de facto best friend and even as the group grew larger, you were there. For every phase and every belief that each one etched into him, you were there. As he looked at both sides of life, at win and lose, you were right beside him, either winning and losing as well or just supporting him emphatically through it.

Somehow he could always just recall how his pogue life acquired a rose-colored filter with you in it; he'd recall life's illusions with you at his side. You were there. You were it. And he didn't know his next step at all, but he wanted you in it; ached for it even.

He feigned cold as an excuse to get you both out of the tub, grabbing the one towel thrown onto a chair and wrapping it around you as you exited as well. He threw a familiar, amicable smile in your direction to disguise how he was, again, lost in his own train of thought. A hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the Chateau. As you got to the front porch, the other reached for your pulse gently, trying to stop you from entering. JJ became conscious of how he was dripping onto the wooden porch, but he didn't care, calling you by your nickname in a low voice. He was acting fast, planning something but also acting instinctively, intending to speak just from memory.

"Hey, uhm..." he stopped himself again as your eyes locked onto his, growing a little bit nervous now. Your eyebrows shot up expectantly, and some of your hair was sticking to your wet face. You'd be the death of him.

"With any luck, by next year, I'll be going out with one of these girls..." Your brows pinched, and eyes flashed with recognition as JJ shuffled his phone, some drops falling from his hair onto the screen before he turned it in your direction with a picture of Kendall Jenner and sliding his finger so it would also show one of Giselle Bündchen. You laughed, gulping expectantly.

"But for now, let me say, without hope or agenda, just because we finished college— even though it's at Christmas that you tell the truth." You chuckled again, but felt like you were hyperventilating, unable to believe that this was really happening to you. Much less that JJ Maybank had memorized a scene from the "dumb chick flick" you obsessed with since you were a mere child. You battled with your own feelings as you tried to let him finish.

"To me, you are perfect, and my wasted heart will love you until you look like this..." He shuffled again with the tiny screen, a smirk on his face as he turned it to you. A photo of a very old and wrinkly woman made you chuckle. Under it, it read "former surfer lady turns viral as she advises to the risks of not wearing sunscreen." You couldn't hold the cackle that left you at that, not even worried about the rest of the group sleeping inside the house, which made JJ smile widely as well.

"Oh my God! Oh my God, I love you..." A loud sigh met a sob halfway as you looked up, feeling pounds lighter after saying so naturally something you had been burying for years, feeling absurdly proud of just that. "I love you so much, what the fuck! I've loved you forever." You beamed at him again, relief written all over his face as he said it back proudly. "I'm sorry for the wait; it wasn't on purpose—Swear it." He grabbed both your cheeks as you laughed, smiling from ear to ear as his face etched closer to yours by the second. Your noses were touching already when he whispered in a low tone, "fuck, y/n..." as your mouths glued together longingly.

The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, a rush of warmth spreading through you as if the sun had risen inside your chest. JJ's touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as his hands cradled your face gently, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. Every moment felt like an eternity as you lost yourselves in the kiss, the taste of saltwater, beer and weed mingling with the sweetness of the moment.

For JJ, it was as if everything he had been holding back, every unspoken word and hidden feeling, was finally pouring out into this one embrace. His heart raced in his chest as he kissed you, his mind buzzing with the realization that he had found something truly precious in you. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a culmination of years of friendship and longing finally coming to fruition.

As you pulled away, breathless and flushed, JJ's eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that took your breath away. In that moment, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. You had crossed a threshold together, stepping into a new chapter of your lives filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a future together. And as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that this was just what you wanted; like you were made for just that.

"I don't even want to come inside, I don't wanna-" you said, sighing mid chuckle, "don't wanna do anything right now, God, JJ, I'm like in a haze!" He clung to you, chuckling, his hands going to your arms, your neck, your hair—he wanted to touch all of you. "Always have the hammock..." he suggested, and you rushed your way there as if just walking would make you lose any time with him.

After you spent a while staring at the stars in the sky, listening to the chirping of crickets in between small, sloppy kisses, JJ sleepily muttered "I feel like I'm fucking high right now," you both laughed "like I'm floating—life accomplishment kind of thing." you swatted at his chest, lightheartedly telling him to stop being silly before readjusting in the wet towel that served as a blanket for the two of you.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you drifted off to sleep, the sound of the river running to meet the ocean lulling you into a state of contentment. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the warmth of JJ's embrace and the soft rhythm of his breathing. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of perfection in an imperfect world.

The warm rays of the morning sun gently kissed the faces of the sleeping pogues as they stirred awake, the sounds of birdsong filling the air. Stretching and yawning, they emerged from their makeshift beds scattered across the Chateau, the pull-out couch and matresses on the floor.

As they gathered outside to clean the space free of empty cans and wrapping paper, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, John B's gaze was the first one to fall upon the sight of JJ and you nestled together in the hammock, still fast asleep. He nudged Sarah first, but soon a collective smile spread across their faces as they exchanged knowing glances, a silent understanding passing between them.

"About time," Pope muttered under his breath, eliciting chuckles from the others.

John B grinned, looking at Sarah. "Looks like our boy finally made his move."

Sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "Took them long enough," she teased, but there was genuine warmth in her voice.

Kiara smirked, crossing her arms, she showed a satisfied facade even though she was jumping inside, bubbling with happiness for the both of you; the sparkle of her eyes being hard to hide. "Well, better late than never, I guess."

With a chorus of laughter and gentle ribbing, the pogues left JJ and you to enjoy your moment together, the feeling was that their little family had just grown a little bit stronger. You had woken up the moment the front door banged back against it's frame as it closed the first time, but feeling JJ's chest under your head, you decided to just keep your eyes closed, fighting a grin to show on your face at your friends' commentaries. You were home. And you only wanted to know life now if it was by JJ's side; especially if he'd be scratching your hair like he was doing just now, half a smile on his lips—"Did I take that long?" he questioned, jokingly.

"A lifetime."

If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love, actually, is all around.

[bangchansslut6]

BIMBO!!

PART ONE OUT OF THREE.

Okay so I'm finally writing this fic!! I want to warn you guys that it won't be the best and probably won't make much sense so I'm sorry for that!! Hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

BIMBO - An attractive but stupid woman (To all my big titty bimbos out there😮‍💨

FUTURE WARNINGS ~ SMUT, Readers father is a disgusting person, reader is a bimbo, reader is a female, reader has big breasts and is called blondie multiple times. Use of slut, bunny, idiot, spit, light choking, clit spanking twice, face sitting, multiple rounds. Chan is referred to as Chris and made him a little freak...Reader gets cat called but Chan is there to save the day. Chan is apart of a gang. DRUGS, ALCOHOL. Chris and Izumi are broken up but get back together. Cheating?? They have a baby together called Ayum. Enjoy!!

CONTEXT

Chris was your ex boyfriend. Why was he your ex? Because your family didn't approve of him. Chris was a "gangster" he rode motorcycles, spray painted, people were scared of him. And when you were younger you had made the mistake of dating him. Since your family didn't like him you left him without explaining which left Chris furious and lonely.

Chris had knocked you up at the first few months of your relationship so when you broke up you had shared custody. Together you had a son called Ayum. He took after Chris a lot. There were bearly signs of you in him but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Chris had Ayum on weekends while you had him during the week. Which made it impossible to avoid eachother.

WEDNESDAY EVENING

It was a late Wednesday night. Chris invited some friends to his house for a drink and a smoke. When they were all completely wasted they started watching some porno type movie. The usual.

"Oi Chris! Howsss..Y/n's new boyfriend?" Said Felix one of Chris's friends making everyone else laugh at how wasted he was. But Chris wasn't laughing.

"Like I care what she does. They look ridiculous together. Plus I heard he's an ass. And he probably can't handle the whole of her." Chris mumbled under his breath taking a swing of his drink. He told himself all the time that he hated you. But in reality. He was a liar.

"Someone sounds jealous-" Changbin poked the bear with a teasing tone. "I'm not drop the topic." Chris barked loudly making everyone flinch. Damm it. He most definitely still had feelings for her. But how could he not?! He had to see her every weekend. And she was hot..like really hot.

FRIDAY EVENING

The house smelled of men's shampoo and colone. Chris had just gotten out from the shower and was now walking around the house while drying his hair. The sound of his naked feet padding against the oak floor the only sound in the house.

The loud noise of Chris's doorbell stopped the peaceful silence. "Perfect." He grumbled rolling his eyes and throwing a tank top on while approaching the door.

When he opened it he saw you standing there one hand holding a baby bag another hand holding Ayumi. "Look who it is? My little blondie?" Chris laughed leaning against the door.

3RD PERSON POV

Y/N stood infront of the dark wooden door. She'd just drop off Ayumi and move on with her day. This was absolutely nothing..she told herself. You are a grown woman..control yourself.

As the door opened her eyes instantly drifted to the man's abs..she was just a woman though.

"Firstly don't call me that. And yes I'm here to drop off your daughter. Nothing else." Y/N said handing Chris the tiny Elza backpack and then Ayumi. "You know the drill call if you need anything and she has everything in the bag okay?" She added crossing her arms.

"Got it. Also what's with the attitude this morning eh? Your man got your nerves popping?" Chris smirked leaning against the door frame.

"That's absolutely none of your business. Now I'm leaving. I'll pick her up on Monday morning. Goodbye." Y/N scoffed saying her last goodbyes to her tiny angel before walking off. Her hips swaying behind her as Chris's eyes trailed down and up her body. Goddamit she was still hot. Why him? And why did he have a boner now..?

Oh he was still such

An

ASS

I am literally the worst writer ever!! I'm SO SORRY about making the wait so long and the first part not even having any smut!! 😭😭 I'm so sorry for the disappointment and I'll try to write part 2 faster!! Once again I APOLOGISE!!

[jalicecookie]

A Duck in the Oven

A Gift for the wonderful @ritualofcirice and her work Hazbin Hotel Imagines and Scenarios Chapter 3 : When Lucifer gave you your fiftieth Duck <3

After Lucifer has given you your 50th duck, you surprise him with the 51st duck and a very special surprise hidden in the Oven.

You knew it was something special to be in a relationship with Lucifer. The king of hell with a big heart for you and a very special fascination for rubber ducks not only managed to conquer your own heart, but also to tear down your carefully built walls - bit by bit - along with your fears and insecurities.

Your life in hell had been anything but easy since you were born. Your father got lost in gambling, drugs and illegal business and your mother was overwhelmed with you and raising your siblings. From a young age you had learned to react inconspicuously, to withdraw when things got loud and not to talk back. Your childhood was marked by instability and fear.....after school you started working in a small music store. Music could heal a part of your heart and then one day Lucifer himself stood in front of you.

He asked for an old record by a demonic artist who had died the year before last. You were able to help the King of Hell and since then he came to the little shop at least once a week until he surprised you by asking you out on a date. You were so shocked that you started to stutter and could only say "yes, please". You were very afraid of this date...it's been a long time since you dated anyone and wanted to think about something like a relationship. Working in the shop and your first small apartment of your own gave you the distance from the complex family situation that you needed to heal...even if it was only a small step forward.

But the date turned out to be wonderfully chaotic. Lucifer told you about his daughter Charlie's dreams, about the Hazbin Hotel and about the new bond of trust with his daughter. He seemed to have problems just like you and when Lucifer said goodbye to the date, just outside your apartment door (he had of course accompanied you home like a gentleman!) - he gave you your first rubber duck. A rubber duck in a waiter's uniform. It made you smile when you said: - I'm looking forward to the next date, Lucifer.

This date turned into several, and the number of rubber ducks grew too. Soon, many different ducks were decorating your small apartment and your feelings for the King of Hell grew steadily. The revelation of your feelings took place at a picnic in one of the parks.

You had tried baking and only baked a cherry cake that was almost completely burnt...it was a tragedy, but even for this Lucifer found a few loving words of encouragement. Your heart beat faster with every word of affection. You didn't know that such emotions were still slumbering within you. But with every date, every kiss and every gentle touch, Lucifer managed to break down the protective walls you had built up...and make you happier and more cheerful.

One year after your first date and the 50th rubber duck you received, you had a surprise for your partner. Yes, you had entered into a relationship, you had moved into his house and met his daughter Charlie for the first time at the end of last year.

And you had taken the girl straight to your heart, you could see where Charlie got her optimistic, cheerful nature from, as she was so similar to Lucifer in many ways. You got on well and you tried to support Charlie's dream. It was not an easy undertaking, hell was divided in opinion about rehabilitating souls up to heaven.

"Darling? I'm back home!"

His voice made you smile and you quickly closed the oven door, turned around and walked towards your partner to give him a gentle kiss on the mouth.

"Luci, I missed you! Aaaand a surprise for you," you said with an almost childlike expression in your eyes.

"A surprise for me? Did I forget the anniversary of our first date...or your birthday...or your demon cat's birthday...or...?" Lucifer got nervous because he immediately thought he had forgotten some important date.

But you just gently grabbed his right hand and led him in the direction of the closed oven door.

"You haven't forgotten anything Luci, turn on the light in the oven, I think it's broken," you asked pleadingly and let go of your partner's hand.

Lucifer immediately complied with this request and turned on the light in the oven.

"Hmmm...the light seems to be working normally," Lucifer wondered and turned to you. But you just blinked at him questioningly.

"Is there something in the oven?" you replied innocently and Lucifer turned around again.

"Yes, one...oh, it's a duck! A cat duck with a pink bow on its head and cat ears!"- said Lucifer, surprised but still pleased.

"It's the 51st duck and the first one to you. I wanted to surprise you...but there's another surprise"

Lucifer turned to you in surprise and even with his nod towards the closed oven door, the King of Hell didn't understand what you were getting at.

"What's that in the oven, Luci?" you gave him a little hint.

"There's a duck in the oven"

"And what does a duck in the oven mean?"

"That you share my passion for ducks?"

"Yes, that too, my darling, but it has another meaning"

Lucifer looked back and forth between the oven and you several times, confused.

You took a few steps towards him, grabbed his right hand and gently guided it on the fabric of your jacket, where your stomach is.

"There's a little duckling in the oven, Luci", you said, happiness sparkling in your eyes.

It took a moment for Lucifer to understand this allusion and tears of joy formed in his eyes.

"A baby duck? WOW!" Lucifer said happily and pulled you into a long loving hug.

The duck in the oven was the beginning of a new phase of life and you could hardly wait , until the baby duckling would see the light of day.

"Maybe there's one - you're going to be big sister duck - for Charlie? We really have to stop by that one shop, later okay?"  - you suggested and Lucifer, tears of joy now running down his face, could only nod - before he blew a passionate, loving kiss on your lips.

And it felt just as happy and wonderful as the very first kiss between you.

THE END

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (6)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Hazing, torture and mild gore ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 6: Every Rose Has Its Thorn

“Ada,” it came out as a caution, both warning her to back off and reminding you to tread carefully.

That didn’t faze her; she maintained her usual sociable disposition, though something about it seemed ingenuine, as if she were the lead actress in a stage play. “Is that how you greet your sire?” she teased.

Leon had briefly told you about her; how much she enjoyed political intrigue and mind games, how cruel she could be and the way she traded secrets and declarations of love like currency. You sensed there was more than he was letting on, especially when you’d asked him those famous words, “Did you love her?”

He stiffened, his hollowed-out stare burning a hole in the wall before him, and the only sound you could hear was the clock ticking in the background. “I thought I did,” he finally replied.

And that was the end of the conversation.

“We were just in the middle of something important,” Leon contended. The pregnant pause that ensued hinted that her intrusion was unwelcome.

Undeterred, she slinked down onto the velvety couch beside you, draping her arm across its back near your shoulders. “What’s more important than introducing her to our clan members?” She toyed absentmindedly with your hair between her fingers, grooming you like a house cat, frowning whenever she saw a split end.

“She’s not—”

“Ready?” Ada suggested coyly. “You really need to have more faith in your progeny.”

“My dear.” She framed your face tenderly with her palms, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. “You did so well in front of the Prince.”

Taking one of her hands away, she rummaged through her satin evening clutch, decorated with pearls. “I heard you’re a fan of these…”

Your eyes perked up at unmistakable French Blue paper packaging, with its distinctive winged Gallic helmet logo on the front. How did she know? You might have risked being labeled as a snob, but if there was a brand of cigarettes that made you weak in the knees, this would be it.

“Gauloises, unfiltered.” She smiled knowingly, passing you the packet you often associated with the likes of Camus and Sartre, intellectuals you admired. “Flown in all the way from Paris.”

Another hand grabbed your shoulder. “Don’t,” Leon urged, reminding you of the vow you had taken earlier to listen only to him.

A nagging voice of reason in your head concurred with him, but the hurt you felt from learning the true nature of your Embrace was louder, drowning it out with its howls. You weren’t about to be the better person and let things lie, you were a creature of passion after all. 

Shoving his hand off you, you accepted Ada’s gift graciously, thanking her as you peeled the top of the packet open. Sniffling softly, you dried away the rest of your tears with the back of your hand before offering her a cigarette from the pack. “She’s got manners,” Ada remarked appreciatively.

“Only to you it seems,” Leon grumbled as he folded his arms like a petulant child.

Fishing one out with her slender fingers, she placed it between her lips and you did the same after. It was only when she struck the match to light your cigarette that you involuntarily shrank away from the flame in slight terror, like some sort of survival instinct had kicked in. It reminded you of the time Leon flinched in the cafe when he opened his lighter.

“Rötschreck,” she commented. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

The aromatic taste of strong, dark tobacco hit you and you almost cried for a second time that night. You had only just begun to adjust to your new diet of blood that you thought you’d never be able to savor anything else remotely human again. As you shared a silent smoke with the woman who’d been demonized by your sire, she grazed your hand with her fingertips, speaking up, “Come, it’s time to meet the rest of your family.”

At this, Leon got to his feet, standing between you and Ada. “No,” he protested. “I’m her sire, I will take her.”

Ada looked between you and Leon with an amused expression on her face, until focusing her attention entirely onto you. “Well?”

Rejecting his advances, you glared at him with scorn, while circling around to join Ada by her side. Perhaps it was immature and you would live to regret it, but at that moment, you wanted nothing more than to stick it to him after what he had done to you. A look of incredulity and betrayal was plastered across his face, while on Ada’s it was one of smug triumph.

A sire who can’t control his childe? Ada’s voice gloated in his head as she strutted off with you.

He pushed it back with a hostile snarl, following close behind so as not to lose sight of the two of you.

The clan meeting that Ada had raved about was designated in the bioreactors room within the West Area. Odd choice for social networking event. Then again, there weren’t many options in this monolith of steel and concrete.

“Welcome to the Rose Garden,” she declared proudly, as two men in uniformed suits and Venetian masks swung open the doors, bowing and inviting you inside. 

“Metaphorically, not literally, of course — especially in this mind numbing place,” she whispered the last part of the sentence to you in jest, as a slight towards Wesker. “We usually host them in more… inspired locations, but this was the best we could manage on such short notice.”

The room was decorated with romantic rose tendrils, and an ethereal canopy of soft white fabric draped from the center of the ceiling, cascading down the walls. Cocktail tables were scattered along the sides, lined with antique lace cloth that would have cost a fortune to procure. 

The minute you set foot in the venue, everyone turned towards you and the room fell into a hushed silence. They stood still like mannequins, pausing halfway between chatting and drinking. It was different to the maliciousness you had experienced with the cliquish vampires before by the rampway. Here, they observed you instead with a look of compulsion, curiously appraising your worth like a prized lamb brought to slaughter.

“Go on.” Ada nudged you forward gently. “Say hello to your elders.”

Glancing over at Leon, you noticed the agitation in his eyes. He remained mute, aware of the impending debacle yet powerless to stop it. You didn’t quite know what to expect as you edged forward hesitantly, while the rest of the crowd parted slightly like the Red Sea, eyeing you as if you were being auctioned off to the highest bidder.

The first of them started to sniff you impulsively and when you shied away, the others held you in place, pushing you along. The unsolicited violations of your person continued, growing with intensity as they prodded at your body, pinched your skin, and licked your face. You would have wrestled your way out of their grasp, if not for those wearing long brass fingernails, their tips sharpened like knives, threatening to slice you if you dared to resist. Instead, you stifled a whimper, masking your fear and revulsion to maintain a facade of confidence and composure.

As your superiors, they were allowed to do anything they wanted to you, and you couldn’t complain. You were insignificant; a drop in the ocean. Just another fledgling who had barely survived a few nights in the world of darkness, invisible in the grand scheme of things until you proved yourself.

From afar, Leon watched the degrading display as the other Kindred ripped at pieces of your clothing, claiming the fabric for themselves. They waved them in the air, tucking them into their purses like souvenirs they’d won at a fairground. Through gritted teeth, he admonished the woman beside him, “Did you really need to bring her here to be humiliated?”

She let out a huff of criticism. “Your short-sightedness in such matters is disappointing. I merely wanted to see how she would react, and if she was good enough, as you claim.”

“For what?” he seethed. “To be used in one of your schemes?”

Coughing out a derisive laugh, she traced his jawline with her index finger. “Now, now, I suggest you handle yourself as well as your beloved fledgling is doing.”

“I’ve had enough of this sick show.” Twisting his head away from her caress, he stormed off, heading in your direction as the attention began to draw towards him instead.

Without a word, he removed his blazer, placing it over your shoulders to protect your modesty. A couple of ridiculing giggles and endearing ‘awws’ erupted from the audience. 

At that point, you’d zoned out as a defense mechanism to cope with the embarrassment. After all, it was kind of like acting sometimes, wasn’t it? Their voices sounded distant to you until you slowly came back into your present body. As you peered up at the man who had come to your aid, his unwavering demeanor grounded you, filling you with a sense of gratitude. Why did he have to lie to you about your Embrace? He had promised to earn back your trust, but all he managed was to deliver a slap to the face. And now, here he was, steadfast like a rock by your side. You couldn’t understand him.

He was about to drag you away when a man with shaggy, medium-length hair, stepped forward. Dressed in a burnt caramel leather jacket and a matching embroidered waistcoat, he seemed to have quite a taste for fashion and being in the limelight.

“Ugh, not this guy again,” Leon muttered under his breath.

“Hey, Sancho, come on. Let the señorita stay, the party isn’t over yet!” The man beckoned the both of you over enthusiastically to join his social circle at one of the drink tables.

“Only for a moment, Luis,” Leon negotiated. “We’ve got things to attend to — Prince’s orders.”

Luis raised his arms in mock surrender, but continued to implore you with more exaggerated hand waves. 

“Avoid agreeing to anything with him at all costs,” Leon warned, keeping his voice low as he spoke in your ear. “He’ll indebt you for the rest of your unlife.”

You nodded compliantly, having had your fair share of deals for tonight.

The crowd went back to whatever they were doing as chatter and excitement filled the room again. When you approached, Luis made a grand gesture of taking your hand in his, kissing it as he bowed before you. “What a fine Princess!” he swooned. 

“No wonder this Yanqui here wants to keep you all to himself, eh?” Giving Leon a cheeky wink, he settled into conversation by introducing you to the other Kindred around him.

It was then where you understood how it was like to be privy to all the gossip surrounding you. Luis invited you to the Balls and Carnivale the Toreador were organizing this year, which you held off on giving a definite answer to for now. Some popular topics that came up included: a Kindred artist’s recent foray into photographing bodies in various forms of bloated decay, with rumors that she kept her subjects in her basement under suitable conditions; and another Kindred who had made substantial progress in molding himself to resemble a stained-glass panel that had captivated him. It was only a matter of time before Leon was subjected to similar scrutiny.

“Did you know your sire doesn’t keep any ghouls or retainers?” one of Luis’ friends mentioned. “I have no idea how on earth he gets things done!”

“Who watches over him when he sleeps?” another gasped audaciously. “I could never!”

You spotted Leon pursing his lips in guarded response, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with his hands behind his back. They were insulting him for not having human servants and bodyguards, some imbued with more power than others, but all blood bound to ensure their loyalty. He had informed you about blood bonds in passing, and from what little you knew, it wasn’t pleasant. For once, you admired him for standing up for what he believed in and not taking advantage of others in this regard — even though he had ironically done so with you, a fact that still pained you.

“Perhaps he’s capable enough on his own,” you countered. 

All eyes were on you. Luis cocked his head, revealing an intrigued smile on his lips.

“I find it impressive,” you added, feeling the ghostly trail of Leon’s pinkie finger against your own in appreciation.

“How about you, señorita? Will you follow in your sire’s footsteps, or will you ghoul?”

Before the discussion could go on further, you heard the Sheriff's distinct voice at the entrance, summoning you and Leon to accompany her for a briefing. Saved by the bell, you sighed in relief as you made your way out of the garden, which was teeming with hidden thorns.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As you wandered back towards the server room in the East Area, Leon had kindly given you a heads up about the Kindred who often holed herself up there. Belonging to the Nosferatu clan meant that she would bear certain deformities. Even so, when she swiveled around in her armchair, you couldn’t contain the tiny gasp that escaped your lips. 

Most of the woman’s head was covered in bald patches, leaving only a few straggly strands which fell in a matted mess. Her face was filled with ulcerating sores which leaked pus down her otherwise pristine, crisp white shirt. When she grinned, you see her two front teeth, elongated and jagged compared to the rest. Peering at you through her spectacles, her spindly fingers, shaped like claws, drummed rhythmically on the computer desk.

Hm, so the tech ban didn’t actually apply to the Prince’s entourage, you thought.

“Afraid?” Jill snickered, glancing at you briefly before resting her back against one of the many blinking tower servers in the room.

The other woman cackled, seemingly enjoying an established rapport with Jill. “Name’s Hunnigan, lick.” You learnt that was a rather derogatory slang for Kindred. Guess she didn’t like your reaction to her looks much.

“Typical Toreador,” she tutted. “Vanity won’t get you anywhere.”

Leon stepped in before the conversation could take a turn for the worse. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Shall we get down to business?”

“Copy that,” Hunnigan relented, though not without flashing you a cursory glance. With a tap of a button, a dozen different mugshots of people you didn’t recognize, along with their identification particulars were projected onto the screens in front of her.

“The assailants,” she presented. “All fake IDs unsurprisingly, but I’ve still included the intel along with what Jill extracted from them into your briefing files.”

At this, Jill snorted, her mood souring as she bellowed, “Got fuck all from these guys. Kept repeating the same tired shit over and over again.”

“Like what?” Leon pressed.

“See for yourself.” Jill signaled towards the screens as Hunnigan brought up a video of what looked like an interrogation taking place.

There were angry snarls and barking followed by tortured screams from the man’s mouth. You saw Jill's shadow captured on the side of the reel, along with her trusty companion, the Doberman, blood and froth dribbling from its mouth. The man was chained to the ground and sobbing violently. Pockets of flesh on his chest had been mauled by the animal.

“Answer me! Who the fuck sent you?”

“Nobody,” the man blubbered mindlessly. “Nobody said they were nobody…”

Hunnigan raised an eyebrow at the screen, muttering, “He’s gone mad.”

You heard a jarring crunching sound and wished you hadn’t looked at the recording again. Jill’s boot was planted on the man’s wrist, which had been twisted and broken in a weird angle. You winced and felt Leon interlace his fingers through yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand soothingly. Somehow, you couldn’t bear to pull away, finding solace in his touch. It was disconcerting how much you wanted to feel more of him — the man who had a hand in making your unlife a living hell. Maybe there’s a truth to people bonding after experiencing trauma.

Another harrowing scream and a series of rapid fire questions followed.

“What were your orders?” Jill snapped.

The man’s breathing was ragged, interspersed with whimpers of pain. “Em-embrace them a-all…” he repeated continuously like a fervent prayer.

She interrupted him sharply, her words slicing through the air like a blade. “Where were you before this?”

He looked up in confusion, his eyes glazed and blank, as if he were stumped and at a loss for words. “I-I don’t… remember.”

There was a heavy sigh as her final question resounded across the four walls of the room. “Identify yourself.”

“I don’t—”

With a flick of her hand, the Doberman pounced forward, lacerating the man’s throat with its teeth, tearing it out as he gurgled on his own blood and the light gradually faded from his eyes. The recording stopped.

A wave of nausea enveloped you as you tried not to hurl whatever you had drunk that night. Leon hand tightened in yours as he gazed at you sympathetically before pulling away to address the two women. “Seems to me like they were tampered with. Someone wiped their memories and Dominated them into servitude.”

“Maybe even a bit of Dementation,” Hunnigan added insightfully, folding her hands into a contemplative, triangular pose under her chin.

Dementation, the power to shatter minds and inflict them with madness. A very smart observation from the Nosferatu, Leon reflected. But that could mean a Malkavian was involved, or someone who’d picked up the skill. “How many of the captives are left?”

“Three,” Jill replied plainly.

From a dozen to three. “Seriously?” he chastised. “Was it necessary to off all of them?”

Raising a finger to silence him, she insisted, “Three is more than enough.”

“As long as you keep it that way,” he argued, placing his arms akimbo and shaking his head in annoyance. “We need to recover their memories somehow.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Leon,” Hunnigan simpered. “We have a memory expert right under our noses. One of the scientists working here for Wesker.”

Resting her hands behind her head, she leaned back lazily, exchanging wry glances with Jill. “Thing is, she’s a little hard to pin down. You might have to go through her Regent, though that’s another slippery one.”

“A Tremere?” he blurted out caustically. That just made his job ten times harder.

“What’s wrong with the Tremere?” you posed innocently.

“Everything,” came the unison reply, as three pairs of eyes darted in your direction.

“Oh, you have a lot to learn, lick,” Hunnigan leered. You guessed that nickname wasn’t going away anytime soon, though you were beginning to understand when to pick your battles and when not. “But that’s your sire’s job.”

“Fuckin’ usurpers, witches in disguise,” Jill spat, her insults laced with venom. “Don’t trust ’em.”

“At least they make themselves somewhat useful,” Hunnigan countered, pushing her glasses up along the bridge of her nose.

“Anyway, I digress,” she said, rapping her fingers on the desk again out of habit. “Another tip for you, because I’m nice: the Bakers.”

“God, no,” he groaned, rubbing the temples at the sides of his head. He’d never met them personally either, but had heard the literal horror stories.

“They’re your port of call for Dementation and the Cobweb, also known as the Malkavian psychic network,” she instructed, clicking away furiously at her computer to add in further details to the files she intended to handover to him.

“More like, madness network,” Jill interjected, sharing a cynical laugh with Hunnigan before giving her a high five. You didn’t see the humor in it at all, but they appeared to gel with their inside jokes like long-time pals.

“Just in case, I’ll send out some feelers and keep my ear to the ground.” An evident buzzing sound followed as a small swarm of flies emerged from underneath Hunnigan’s blouse into the space. 

You looked on in shock, your mouth hanging open.

“I must admit, I’m a bit of a show off.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you brazenly before turning towards Leon. “And you know how to reach me.”

“How could I ever forget your rats, Hunnigan?” He forced out a tight-lipped smile.

“So, both of you can control animals?” you proposed, still coming to terms with what you had just seen displayed in front of you.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jill grunted, pushing herself away from the tower as she paced around the room in agitation, seemingly growing impatient with your ignorance.

Hunnigan, however, appreciated your interest in the topic and proceeded to explain, “Slight difference there — mine are mostly for communication and info gathering. Jill likes her dogs; they’re better for attacking.” 

Gangrels like Jill tended to be closer to the Beast than most Kindred were, and also considered themselves as survivalists and fighters. That, coupled with her job as the Sheriff, explained why her approach to Animalism was on the more aggressive side, as compared to Hunnigan’s.

“Right, got it,” you nodded tersely, grateful for the clarification but unsure of what to make of her. “Thanks.”

She nodded back before handing over a thumb drive to Leon. “Guard this with your life.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he promised, swiping the device and tucking it into one of his pockets as he gave her a mock salute.

What a goofball. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you tried to suppress a snicker as he winked at you. Your heart skipped a beat, figuratively speaking, and you lowered your gaze. Needless to say, another bout of conflicting feelings bubbled to the surface. How could someone you detested moments ago also arouse such warmth and affection within you? Why did you have to meet him in this unfortunate way? If the world he lived in didn’t exist and he was just a normal patron, maybe the two of you could’ve stood a chance. But then again, nothing was normal these days. You kicked yourself for even considering it. The man had actually turned out to be a monster after all, though at the same time, he wasn’t.

Jill watched the entire exchange, unimpressed. “Jeez, get a room already. The next thing you know you’re both biting each other and turning this place into the bloody Nile.”

“Not on my watch,” Hunnigan threatened, the flies around her buzzing indignantly.

Leon appeared to take their complaints in his stride, flipping his bangs to the side and breaking out into a charming, boyish smile. “Anything else you ladies need from us or shall we take our leave?”

“Yeah, you still think the Sabbat did it?” Jill inquired before jabbing her thumb in your direction. “Trying to turn her into a shovelhead?”

“What’s a—”

Leon glared at Jill as he interrupted you. “It’s one of the ways the Sabbat, a sect of vampire supremacists, prefer to Embrace their kind. After a Mass Embrace, they’d bash you on the head with a shovel and throw you into a pit to bury you alive.”

“See who manages to crawl out,” she added, running her tongue over the sharp edges of her teeth with a sadistic glint in her eye. “Survival of the fittest.”

“And to answer your question, Jill,” he continued, “the Sabbat’s probably involved one way or another, but something tells me there are more players in this.”

“Good guess, pretty boy,” she purred. “I’ll be expecting regular updates on this case.”

“Noted,” he replied bluntly, turning on his heel and briskly guiding you out of the room.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On your trip back to his apartment, Leon suddenly breached the uncomfortable silence that hung heavily between you. “Stay with me for now, so I can watch over you.”

You eyed him skeptically. Did he really think he could pull this trick on you? “Yeah, fat chance. I’m fine where I am.”

“You know when Luis talked about ghouling? Well, you won’t have to do that, as long as I’m there,” he tried to persuade you.

“I could be just as capable,” you contended, though the fear of entering uncharted territory played on the back of your mind.

“Could be,” he stressed, as you pinched your lips together into a disgruntled frown. 

“There are many who know how much you mean to me.” His honeyed voice filled your ears and again, your stomach fluttered at his confession. 

You imagined his lips searing kisses onto your skin and hated yourself for it. He broke you and made you who you were. Fucking bastard. You wanted to lash out and hit him again and again, until you didn’t have to see his handsome face under a layer of blood and bruises, but you couldn’t. When push came to shove, you were weak.

“They’ll use it against us,” he claimed. “Let’s not even talk about the Sabbat, who won’t give a shit about killing you on sight.”

Leon 1, you 0. The bell had sounded and he was the winner for this round. Your mouth twisted in displeasure at the unfair results. There was a long pause until, eventually, you spoke up, “I’ll stay, but the cafe is my turf. You’re not going to order me about there.”

He gave you a sidelong smile. “I guess we can come to an agreement.” Noticing your restlessness, he quirked an eyebrow and appended his statement with, “Anything else?”

“There is,” you began tentatively, the urge to rile him up was getting the better of you. “But first, a smoke?” With lightning speed, your packet of Gauloises was already pressed flat against his chest. Good ol’ Celerity — you could get used to this.

He glanced at the offensive Cornflower blue packet and scrunched his face in resentment. Placing his hand over your ‘offering’, he pushed it down coolly and snorted, “Cute, but I’ve got my own,” while tapping at the pack in his trouser pocket.

“Suit yourself.” You shrugged, lighting your cigarette with the box of matches Ada had left you. The flinching wasn’t as bad this time, like she’d said.

Exhaling thick plumes of smoke like a femme fatale in an old noir film, you declared, “I want separate beds, non-negotiable.”

A sardonic smirk crept onto his lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 8 - Born with a weak heart

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Just smut! a smidge of reader insecurity

I'm back! Onto the smut. I'm sure this new arrangement won't come back to bite anyone in the ass...

(gif doesn't represent how reader looks)

The make-out session continued, at some point Bucky even managed to unhook your bra without you noticing until your straps began falling down your shoulders.

You gave him a little teasing smack on the chest as you continued to kiss him. “Bad boy,” you whispered as you struck him lightly.

“You know full well saying stuff like that is only going to encourage me,” he grinned devilishly as he pulled you into him and deepened the kiss.

“Friends don’t do this…” you protested futilely as he began to kiss the column of your neck.

“I dunno…this feels pretty friendly to me,” he chuckled as you could practically feel his wicked smile against your skin.

Every red flag was waving, every warning deep in your gut was screaming at you, but you were unable to stop. He was like a drug, and you couldn’t resist coming back for another hit. You told yourself it would be fine…after all, this was the perfect solution, right? No attachments…no drama…just a little fun while you were in town. That’s all.

Right?

As your inner monologue spiralled and you tried to (unconvincingly) assure yourself you had everything in hand, Bucky surprised you by picking you and raising you above him. You squawked at the sudden change of pace as he manoeuvred himself out of the passenger seat and into the driver’s, placing you down in the passenger seat where he’d been. He grabbed the keys and nonchalantly tossed them from one hand to the other, then started the engine.

“Bucky…what the f-,” you scoffed in disbelief.

“Taking you to my place,” he replied cutting you off as he began reversing out of the lot, his hand pressed against your headrest as he looked over his shoulder.

“Excuse me??” you replied shrilly.

“What? We can go to your place if you like…just figured it might be weird as it’s your grandma’s and all”.

“Very presumptuous to assume I want to go back to either,” you jibed.

He shrugged as he pulled out onto the road. “Do you not…?”

“…I mean I do. Yeah. But I don’t like you assuming,” you admitted stubbornly. “…And I didn’t give you permission to drive Sally”.

“I’m a very careful driver. And Sally is fine with it, aren’t you girl?” he cooed as he patted the dash.

You looked over at him from and could see he was grinning. Like the cat who got the damn cream.

“Fine,” you sighed, admitting defeat. “But your place better be nice. I have standards, you know”.

“Of course, Sugar. Don’t you worry, you’ll get the full VIP treatment. Guest of honour”.

*

Twenty minutes later you found yourself on Bucky’s bed, your shirt buttons undone and your jeans half off.

It had all happened so fast.

He had driven you back to his place (in your car) and practically ripped you through the front door. Turns out he had an apartment above the auto shop the MC owned. It was…surprisingly nice. You had expected half empty beer bottles and motorcycle grease…but it was…neat. Monochromatic furnishings and stripped back wooden floors. Nicely framed bike prints adorned the walls. As long as you didn’t think about how many girls had likely crossed that same threshold…it was pleasant.

“Don’t look so surprised, Sug,” he had ribbed as you took in the space. “I’m not some frat boy. I take care of my things”.

“Is that so?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow as his hand found your lower back.

“Oh yes,” he purred as he pulled you into him. “I’m very much a man, not a boy”.

“Big boy, huh?” you giggled as that dangerous mouth of his moved to your ear.

“You’ll find out…”

And then your earlobe was between his teeth, and suddenly you were both on his bed and both his and your jeans had been unzipped. And you knew it would all come back to bite you hard in the ass - but you were unable to swim against the current, so you just let yourself drift with the stream.

He yanked at your top, pulling it over your head and discarding it onto the floor. Your bra quickly followed suit and he took a second to admire your now revealed breasts, looking at them with a degree of awe as you felt your face flush at the intensity of his attention. You instinctively went to cover them with your hands, not used to being looked at like that, but he frowned and ripped your fingers away as if you’d greatly insulted him. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and gently the caressed the other with his hand, and you laid back and mewed as his tongue danced along the bud of your nipple.

“Beautiful,” he muttered as he kissed you on the mouth once more.

As the two of you kissed you tugged on his t-shirt, signalling that you wanted it off. He enthusiastically obliged and you helped him pull it over his head. You nearly gasped at the sight of his bare chest, taut and wide and impossibly sculpted. An MC tattoo adorned one of his pecs. He watched your face carefully as you soon found the scar tissue where flesh met metal, a stark reminder of his trauma and his past. You thought you saw a moment of anxiety in his otherwise ravenous eyes. Unflinchingly, you ran your fingers over the still-angry red welts where they jarringly swam into metal. You tenderly kissed the scars and across the cool steel and turned your face back to his.

“So are you”.

That glimpse of apprehension in his eyes or whatever it was suddenly disappeared forever. He smiled, and suddenly he was the same cocky Bucky he always was. He pulled you back down to the mattress and you revelled in the sensation of his warm skin against yours as your breasts pressed against his chest. He shimmied your jeans off and peppered your thighs with butterfly kisses as you wriggled and pushed against the sheets.

“You still good?” he asked inquisitively as his fingers wrapped around the sides of your underwear. You looked up at him and nodded eagerly with your consent, causing him to grin and pull the fabric down past your ankles – carelessly throwing into the pile of everything else he’d removed from you.

You didn’t have much time to react before he buried his face between your legs and unleashed his tongue. You squeaked and writhed at the sensation, instinctively pulling back, but he merely tightened his hold on your thighs and pulled you closer against him. You were unable to contain the embarrassing squeal you let out when he found your clit, circling his fingertip in your essence and exploring every part of you. He slowly added a finger inside of you and sent you dizzy. As he lapped at you greedily, you threw yourself back against the pillows and closed your eyes. Your hands fisted the sheets as you bit your lip, everything going a bit fuzzy as your muscles started to slacken and sag one by one. You realised you were making whimpering noises, but they seemed far away – as if in a different room.

You felt yourself near closer and closer to the precipice as he began to vary the pressure and speed, humming triumphantly as he took you apart. Bastard. He was enjoying this. If you had the strength to look up, you knew you’d see him thrilled to reduce you to a gibbering wreck.

He added a second finger and that seemed to erase any final coherence you held. Your climax hit you fast and you cried out as your head rocked against the pillows, pitifully gyrating against his hand as you bathed in the warmth of the sensation. He quickly moved his face away from between your legs as he continued to work you over with his fingers, unable to resist enjoying your orgasm along with you as he aligned his hips with yours and pressed himself into you – his jeans still halfway down his thighs. Through your haze you felt the outline of him through his boxers, sending an urgent siren into the lizard part of your brain, you needed this man badly. He was all you needed. He kissed you sloppily, the sheer lewdness of your climax still dusted across his lips causing another aftershock as everything stilled and slowed.

Panting vigorously, you sat up, but he gently pulled you back down.

“Easy, tiger,” he grinned as he pulled you against him, “no sudden movements”.

You rolled your eyes but were quietly grateful for the reprieve. “Oh hush,” you chided, “let’s dial the ego down a little…”

He smirked and kissed your cheek, holding you in his arms and pulling you flush against him as you laid together. The two of you were still, serene, and for a moment you weren’t just two ‘friends’ unable to deny your physical chemistry. No, this felt intimate. Close. You traced a finger down the side of his face, carefully exploring his features, his freckles, his scars. Memorising it all as if you’d need it for later. He watched you intently and did the same to you, the stark frigidity of his metal digit a contrast to your flushed skin. Nothing was spoken, but nothing needed to be.

You found yourself lost in those cerulean eyes of his. It was almost…soothing. You weren’t thinking about Granny, or the house, or your grief. You weren’t agonising about where you stood with Bucky or what you ‘were’ together. You weren’t preparing your next quip or jibe for him. You were just existing quietly. It had been so long since the buzzing noise in your head was quiet. You’d almost forgotten what it felt like to feel peace.

It seemed to happen both quickly and slowly at the same time. He moved on top of you as he continued to smother you with kisses, no inch of your body untouched. Suddenly he was between your thighs, his jeans discarded. You moved to place your hand inside his boxers, but he caught it and gruffly whispered, “another time,” as he moved your hand back down, “I can’t wait any longer” he told you with urgency. He parted your thighs and then he was between them as he rustled his underwear off, he gave you another deep kiss as he gradually pushed himself inside. You gasped at the feel of him, his size and his fullness a shock (despite your suspicions…) He held you tightly but moved gently, muttering whispers of praise and admiration for you as he sheathed himself entirely inside you. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. You look like an angel like this.

His nose met yours and he scrutinised your face carefully to ensure you were on board. Then he began to thrust…slowly at first but building his strokes up to a faster tempo as you bucked your hips in time with his. You gasped and sighed and moaned as he moved, and he greedily devoured each sound you made as he shared his own with you in return. It became more frantic, hands tangled in hair, fingernails scraped down backs, saliva glistening on skin. You shifted and turned him, moving so that you were in his lap while he was still seated inside. He smirked at your initiative and his hands gripped your waist. One hot, one cold. You began to bounce, building and building as you huffed and mewled. He aided the rhythm by moving your waist in time to your tempo, but let you set the pace and conduct. It all felt so good. So right. You were on fire but in the best possible way. You didn’t care how your body might look, if you might be sweating or what kind of noises or facial expressions you might be making. Nothing mattered except how it felt and being in this moment with him.

You came hard, digging your fingers almost brutally into his shoulders as you closed your eyes and let out a low moan. He joined you, his forehead against your chin as he groaned against your neck. His hips stuttered as you felt the warmth of his release fill you, vulgar but so desperately needed.

You both stayed as you were for a moment, regaining your bearings and letting your heavy breaths plateau. He tilted your head with his finger and gave you a kiss so tender and chaste you could almost forget you were dripping with his spend. He looked up at you and smiled.

“I’m glad I hired you…”