#i had to do his thighs extra tick :3

[pato-roldnart]

That one scene in legally blonde but snowbaz :3

I hope this is not too much for t umblr 💦

Commission for @thewholelemon, thank you! I'm always happy to draw some snowbaz 💕

[lvnleah]

Month three

word count: 3.6k

find the masterlist here!

July 20th 2024 | 3 months old.

You and Leah stood in the kitchen, doing a final check of everything you might need for your first holiday away together. Finley was already snug in his car seat, cooing softly and sucking on his fist. Leah was ticking off items from the mental list you’d both made: diapers, wipes, extra clothes, toys, bottles, and formula. You double-checked that all the lights were off and that the windows were securely shut.

Going away for the weekend looked a lot different for you and Leah now that you had Finley. Before getting pregnant, you often found yourself packing a suitcase and going away for the weekend randomly when Leah had the weekend off but now that you had Finley things had to be planned more carefully.

Leah had just finished a camp with the Lionesses and when she got home you both booked a cottage beside the seaside for the weekend. You needed a break and some time to get away to your favourite place, the beach. The last time you were away at the beach was when you were heavily pregnant and grumpy but things were different now.

You and Leah had spent last night packing when you both realised that one suitcase wasn’t going to be enough for you both anymore. The large suitcase which was once enough for the both of you was now accompanied by a smaller one just for Finley’s things.

“Who knew a three-month-old needed so much bloody stuff just to go away for two nights!” Leah laughed as she placed the suitcases outside the front door.

You chuckled at Leah’s comment, as you placed a blanket over Finley who seemed entirely unbothered by the chaos around him.

“I know, right? And we used to just throw a few things in a bag and go,” you replied, making sure Finley’s straps were right.

Leah wrapped her arms around your waist from behind and rested her chin on your shoulder. “It’ll be worth it though, having a few days away just the three of us,” she said softly. You could feel her smile against your skin.

You nodded, turning your head to give her a quick kiss. “Absolutely. I can’t wait to see Finley’s reaction to the beach.”

Leah grinned as you stepped out of the way to check your handbag. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to love it, just like his mamas.” She gave your hips one more squeeze as you slipped away. “Aren’t you Finn?” Leah cooed, placing a kiss on Finley’s forehead.

He squealed in response, his little arms waving around in the air as he kicked his legs about. Leah laughed and tickled his stomach.

"Looks like he's excited already," she remarked.

With everything finally packed and ready, you grabbed the car keys from the counter and turned off the last light in the kitchen.

Leah picked up the suitcases. "I’ve got the bags! You’ve got the most important cargo," she said, nodding towards Finley. “Let’s hit the road, pretty girl!”

You both headed out to the car, carefully arranging the luggage in the trunk while making sure Finley's car seat was securely fastened in the back. With everything in place, you took one last look around, ensuring the house was locked up and secure. Leah slid into the driver’s seat while you settled into the passenger seat. By the time you had begun the two-hour drive, Finley was already dozing off to sleep.

The drive to the cottage flew by, Leah rested her hand on your thigh as she traced small circles with the pad of her thumb. Halfway through the drive, Finley woke up so you stopped to grab some lunch as well as feed him a bottle.

As you pulled into the service station, Leah found a spot in the shade and parked the car. You gently unbuckled Finley from his car seat, taking care not to disturb his post-sleep grumpy mood too much.

Leah went to order some food and find a table while you grabbed Finley's diaper bag and headed over to the baby-changing station inside. Once he was changed and freshened up, you joined Leah at the table. She had already ordered sandwiches and drinks for the two of you. Finley, now fully awake, cooed happily in your arms, as he faced Leah.

“You’re a happy little man,” Leah cooed with a smile as she reached out to take Finley from you. She settled him on her lap, and he looked up at her with a big toothless grin. “You like being out and about? Oh, you’re so gorgeous!” She cooed.

You smiled as you unwrapped your sandwich. “I think he’s a people person,” you replied, taking a bite.

Leah gently bounced Finley on her lap as she sipped her drink. “I’m so excited to take him to the beach. I can’t wait to see his reaction to the sand and the water,” she smiled as Finley happily chewed his fists.

You nodded in agreement. “Me too. I’m sure he’s going to love it. And it’ll be so nice to have a break from everything and just enjoy being a family.”

Finley gurgled happily, his tiny hands reaching up to grab Leah’s hair. She laughed and gently disentangled his fingers, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to have so much fun, aren’t you, Bubba? Just wait till you see the ocean.”

After finishing your lunches, you and Leah sat for a while, soaking in the moment. Finley’s excitement seemed to grow.

Leah bounced her leg a little, making little noises which got Finley excited and giggling, “You enjoying that little man?”

He let out a high-pitched sequel, something he’d started to do the past few days, “You got your Mumma’s loud voice?” You cooed, reaching over to tickle his stomach.

Finley’s laughter filled the air once again, and Leah gently bounced him on her lap, making him giggle even more. “Alright, little man, let’s get you back in your seat so we can finish this trip to the beach.”

Leah strapped Finley back into his car seat, and with everything packed up, you both climbed back into the car. The last stretch of the drive felt shorter, energised by Finley’s cheerful mood and the excitement of reaching the beach.

As you pulled into the cottage’s driveway, you couldn’t believe the views. It looked better in real life than in the picture. It was a tiny cottage a stone's throw away from the beach, the front had a massive patio and a seating area that overlooked the road down to the sea.

You both got out of the car and began unloading the bags. With Finley’s car seat in hand, you walked up to the cottage and opened the door to a cosy living room. Finley’s eyes widened as he took in the new environment, and Leah’s grin grew even wider as she entered with the suitcases.

“This is going to be amazing,” Leah said, setting the bags down and hugging you tightly from behind. “I think it’s going to be a good weekend.”

You turned your head and kissed her softly, “Absolutely, I can’t wait.”

Leah unstrapped Finley while you took the role of unpacking, knowing that if Leah did it you’d be living out of a suitcase in the corner of the room for two days. Once you had arranged all of your clothes, Finley’s stuff and his travel it was already 5 PM.

As the evening set in, you and Leah decided to take a walk on the beach with Finley after giving him his evening feed. Leah set up the pram before you gently transferred him into the pram's bassinet.

Leah walked beside you, her hand intertwined with yours as you pushed the pram, she kicked off her shoes and felt the sand beneath her feet. “It’s so beautiful here,” she smiled.

“Perfect for a first family trip,” you replied, “Someone’s sleepy.” You nodded down to Finley in the pram whose little eyelids fluttered as he dreamed.

As you reached the shore, Leah suggested having fish and chips and you both agreed it was the perfect choice for the evening. You found a cosy little fish and chip shop not too far from the seafront.

Leah placed the order while you found a seat outside on the patio area, enjoying the cool sea breeze. You rocked the pram back and forth, making sure Finley stayed asleep.

Leah returned with two steaming plates of fish and chips. “Here we go,” she said, setting the plates down on the table. “This looks amazing!”

The salty aroma of the fresh fish and crispy chips wafted around you, mingling with the scent of the sea air. You both took your first bites, savouring the taste of the flaky fish and perfectly fried chips.

"This is just what we needed," you said between bites, looking out over the waves gently lapping against the shore.

Leah nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's so peaceful here. I can't wait to bring him back when he's a bit older, so he can run around and play in the sand."

You smiled at the thought of all of the memories you had yet to make. As you continued to eat, the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the water. Finley stirred slightly in his pram, letting out a small sigh before settling back into his slumber.

After finishing your meal, you decided to take a stroll along the beach as the sun slowly set. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing, and the cool sand beneath your feet was a welcome relief from the day's heat.

Leah wrapped her arm around your waist as you walked, the pram rolling smoothly along the sandy path. "This was a great idea, coming here," she said, placing a kiss on your temple. "It's exactly what we needed, pretty girl."

"I'm glad we did," you replied, leaning your head against her shoulder. "It's nice to get away and just focus on us and Finley."

Eventually, you made your way back to the cottage, where you settled in for the night. You put Finley to bed and once he was settled, you and Leah curled up on the couch together, watching a movie and enjoying each other's company.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves growing sleepy. You shared a few more quiet moments before deciding to head to bed, both of you eager for a good night's sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of seagulls and the gentle lapping of the waves. Finley was awake bright and early, his blue eyes taking in the new surroundings with curiosity. You fed him in bed before you and Leah took turns holding him as you prepared breakfast, enjoying the slow pace of the morning.

You ate your breakfast outside whilst Finley had his first nap of the day. Leah suggested heading down to the beach which you loved the sound of so after breakfast you headed inside to get a beach bag packed.

"Do you have his sun hat and sunscreen?" you asked, glancing over to see Leah carefully transferring Finley to his pram bassinet.

She looked up and nodded, a warm smile spreading across her face. "All set and packed in the bag!”

You double-checked the beach bag and added a few last-minute essentials like water bottles, snacks, and a blanket for you to lay Finley down on. With everything ready, you headed out the door, excited to start the day at the beach.

The walk to the beach was peaceful, the sun already warm on your skin. The sound of the waves grew louder as you approached, and you could see the ocean stretching out before you, the water glistening in the morning light.

As you reached the sandy shore, Leah found a spot that was perfect for the three of you. She set up a beach umbrella and spread out a large blanket, creating a cosy little space for you to relax and enjoy the day. Finley was wide awake now, his eyes wide with wonder as he looked around at the vast expanse of sand and sea.

Leah lifted Finley out of his pram and placed a kiss on his head as she held him so he was facing forward. "What do you think, Bubba? This is the beach!" she cooed, her voice filled with excitement.

Finley responded with a happy gurgle, his tiny hands happily moving around. Leah sat down with him on her lap, close enough to the sand. You watched as he grabbed a handful of sand, his fingers curling around the grains.

His classic Leah frown, as Katie called it, appeared on his face as he let go of the sand. You giggled as you reached over to tickle his stomach.

“You don’t like the sand, bubs?” you said with a smile, settling down next to Leah and Finley on the blanket. You leaned over to brush a few grains of sand off Finley's chubby-ish legs.

Leah laughed as she laid him down on the blanket. "I think he's going to love it here once he’s used to it," she said, reaching out to tickle Finley's belly. He giggled in response, kicking his legs and arms as he did so.

The morning passed by in a blur of happiness and laughter. You and Leah took turns playing with Finley, building small sandcastles and dipping his toes in the water. Finley was fascinated by the waves, his eyes following the movement of the water as it lapped against the shore.

“Are you sure these sandcastles are for Finley, babe?” You asked Leah as she made a little village of sandcastles.

“Of course they are! I’m just getting in a little practice for when he’s older,” Leah responded with a playful smirk, dusting sand off her hands. “Besides, he seems pretty into them, don’t you, little guy?” She leaned over to where Finley was lying on the blanket.

Finley’s eyes were wide, his mouth a little ‘o’ as he called away. “Just wait until you’re big enough to help your Mumma knock those down!” You cooed.

Leah feigned a look of horror, placing a hand on her chest. “Traitor! I can see the ganging up forming already,” she joked, giving Finley’s tummy a playful poke, which elicited more giggles.

Finley, still entranced by the sand, tried grabbing another handful, this time attempting to bring it to his mouth. You quickly intervened, gently pulling his hand away. It was a skill he’d recently picked up, he’d learned that he could grab things and get them into his mouth.

“Nice try, buddy,” you said, wiping the sand off his fingers. “No eating sand today.”

Leah laughed, reaching into the beach bag to pull out a toy for Finley to play with. “Here you go, bubba. How about this instead?” She handed him a soft, colourful rattle, which immediately caught his attention.

After a while Finley got bored so you decided to try him in the water. Leah stood up and scooped Finley up in her aens before walking towards the water's edge, holding Finley in her arms. She slowly waded into the shallow water, letting the waves gently lap at her feet. You followed behind her and watched as she lowered his tiny feet into the water.

As Leah lowered Finley's tiny feet into the water, the coolness and unfamiliar texture of the sea startled him. Finley's face scrunched up in a mix of confusion and displeasure, a small whimper escaping his lips. Leah, noticing his reaction, lifted him immediately and bounced him in her arms, trying to reassure him.

"It's okay, Bubba, it's just the water," she cooed, placing a kiss on Finley’s head. "It's just like bath time, remember?" Leah whispered.

You stepped closer, drying Finley’s toes. "Oh Bubba, you’re not a fan are you?" you pouted, Finley looked at you with his big blue eyes, his little lips forming a pout.

Leah tried once more, slowly dipping his feet into the water. This time, Finley let out a small cry, his little arms and legs flailing. It was clear that he wasn't enjoying this new experience.

"I don't think he's a fan of the water just yet," you said, reaching out to take him from Leah's arms. You cradled Finley close, rubbing his back gently to calm him down.

Leah took Finley’s hand into hers as you held him close to your chest, “It’s okay Bubba! Just a bit of water.”

You and Leah returned to the blanket and Finley soon fell asleep in his pram. As you relaxed on the blanket, you and Leah chatted about all the things you wanted to do during your stay. You talked about exploring the nearby town, trying out local restaurants, and taking more walks along the beach.

"I'm so glad we decided to come here," Leah said, her arms wrapped around your shoulders. "It's exactly what we needed."

You nodded in agreement. "It's perfect," you replied.

While Finley had his second nap, you and Leah took the chance to sunbathe a little before making your way back to the cottage. You took turns staying with Finley while either of you had a shower.

You bathed Finley in the bath before settling down to sleep in his pram. That evening, you and Leah enjoyed a quiet dinner on the patio, watching the sunset over the ocean. Finley slept peacefully in his pram, exhausted from the day's adventures.

You sat there in comfortable silence, watching the waves roll in and out. Once it was dark you headed back inside and placed Finley in his crib before cuddling up again on the sofa together.

“I’ve missed this,” you whispered, lying cuddled into Leah’s chest. “Just us, no distractions around us. Just me, you and now Finley.”

Leah pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “Me too, pretty girl. He’s the perfect addition to us.”

That night, as you lay in bed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and joy. This trip had been everything you had hoped for and more, a chance to escape the busyness of everyday life and just enjoy being together.

“I can’t be asked to move!” You groaned as the movie came to an end.

Leah chuckled softly, her arms wrapped around you as she lay on the sofa. "I could carry you, you know," she teased, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm.

You laughed, turning to face her with a playful smile. "Oh, is that so? And how do you plan to do that with Finley in his crib and all our stuff everywhere?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Leah grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll manage, trust me." With a playful nudge, she got up from the sofa, reaching down to scoop you into her arms. You let out a soft squeal as she lifted you effortlessly.

"Okay, okay, I believe you," you giggled, wrapping your arms around her neck and placing a kiss on her neck as she carried you towards the bedroom. "But seriously, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Leah just shook her head, her voice filled with affection. "Oh please, you weigh nothing. I've got this." She carefully navigated her way through the cottage, her movements slow and deliberate to avoid waking Finley. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to strain yourself when you're already so relaxed." She teased once again.

You rested your head on her shoulder. "You're the best, you know that?" you whispered, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Leah smiled, gently laying you down on the bed. "I try," she said, hovering over you. "Now, let's get you tucked in." She smiled as she placed a kiss on your lips.

Once you were settled in bed, Leah climbed in beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you close. You nestled into her embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against yours.

"I love you," you murmured, your voice soft and filled with emotion.

Leah kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering there for a moment. "I love you too, pretty girl," she whispered. "More than anything."

The next morning, you woke up to the soft light of the sun filtering through the curtains. Finley was still asleep in his crib, his little chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath. You turned to see Leah already awake, watching you with a gentle smile.

"Good morning, pretty girl," she said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "How did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time," you replied, leaning in to kiss her. "Thank you for last night. It was perfect."

Leah's smile widened, "Anytime, love. I just want to make you happy."

"You do," you assured her, taking her hand in yours to play with. "More than you know."

As you lay there, enjoying the quiet morning together, you both listened to the sound of the waves outside and the soft cooing of Finley as he began to stir in his crib.

Leah rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. "What do you say we make some breakfast and enjoy our last day here?"

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "That sounds perfect."

With that, you and Leah got up and began your day, ready to make the most of your time together in this beautiful place. As you prepared breakfast and laughed together over Finley's antics, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming amount of love. You knew that this was just the beginning of many more adventures to come, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for your little family.

[its-all-papaya]

ask game: oscinha

(if you haven’t seen the vid, lando gave oscar a nickname with Portuguese endearment! 🫶)

i have in fact seen the video. insane behavior all around. same deal: 30 min unedited plz ignore mistakes thx <3

"Osc-een-ya?"

It sounds funny in Oscar's accent. Not like he's practiced it, either - not like Lando had in his head in the minutes between the race finish and the video start. It sounds nice anyway, though, because Oscar's saying it with an amused smile on his face and the back of his hand knocking into Lando's as they walk back towards their rooms.

"Yeah," Lando ducks his chin and shakes out his curls so he doesn't have to meet Oscar's eyes, afraid of what'll be in his own, "I don't know. Wanted to change it up."

"Where d'you even get these things?" Oscar hand moves a bit extra on the next pass and catches Lando's thigh instead of his knuckles. Lando thinks he could get away with the same thing a few steps from now. Long enough to make it seem like an accident.

He doesn't do it often enough for it to be a proper game - the thing with the nicknames. Oscar can't have guessed the rules because there aren't really any. It's just a place for Lando's mind to go when he's trying to keep it away from the roads he's not supposed to let it down. It's like Tetris, or some shit, like the computer games they'd been taught to play after a crash so their brain wouldn't get caught up in the memory of it and make it into something it isn't - something to be afraid of later.

And Lando's race wasn't even bad. That's not one of the rules. There aren't rules.

"Heard it somewhere," Lando says. He's good enough by then to smile over at Oscar.

It doesn't matter, though, because Oscar's smiling at the ground, watching their socked feet slip a little on the tile. If Lando thinks about it, it's sort of all been silly impulse decisions since they'd showered and changed. Finishing Oscar's bottle after media even though his own wasn't empty and Oscar's was probably full of backwash anyway, talking Oscar out of shoes when the press team had come to grab them, just because he felt like it. Oscinha. Like a schoolboy with a crush, acting out for attention. Bit pathetic.

"Osc," he says just as they reach their rooms.

"Oh, we're back on that?" Oscar's hand is on the handle of his door. His smile is soft and tired and gentle.

"'Osc' isn't even like that," Lando waves him off, "that's like your proper nickname."

"So what you're saying is you won't be calling me the other thing again later?"

Lando would call Oscar whatever he wanted later. He could say that, too. Oscar would laugh and blush down at their socks and mumble something about it, and it could be a joke. Lando's sort of tired of laughing stuff off lately, though, so he doesn't.

"I don't know," Lando says, "guess you'll have to wait and see."

"On the edge of my seat," Oscar answers back, dry. His hair is curling a little at the back of his neck and around his ears. He's looked extra... something all weekend. Extra himself, or a little bit different, maybe. But perhaps that's just the break talking, just the shit car and the heat and the fact they'd had to fidget all the way through the video with no trophies to keep their hands occupied.

Oscar rubs one foot on top of the other, lips ticking sideways and back. He stares at Lando until Lando remembers he'd started a conversation that Oscar's probably waiting on him to finish.

And Lando's probably got one more silly impulse decision left in him.

"What're you doing tonight?" he asks.

Oscar's smile warms. They've got a late morning flight to Mexico City. "Nothing. Why?"

Lando thinks of Tetris. Twisting pieces until they slot just together, over and over until it's stuck in your head like a song, crowding out the bad. Even when it's not so bad.

"You want to come to mine?"

from here

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWO

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni, eddie is especially mean in this one (be warned), mentions of blood (in metaphors, not literal)

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 4k+

→ a/n: i just wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you for all the love on the first chapter of this!! i appreciate it beyond words <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

2:00 ─ㅇ───────────────── 24:00

HOUR TWO - 5:00 PM

It’s a miracle. Eddie is surprisingly quiet for the first hour after your small kitchen dispute. 

He resides reading a book on one end of his couch as you sit awkwardly on the other end, fiddling with your hands before finally caving and deciding to scroll mindlessly on your phone. You exhaust every social media app you have downloaded – Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr – before finally turning to Tik Tok. Adjusting your volume doesn’t even cross your mind. 

That’s all it takes to finally set Eddie off. 

It starts small; he shifts around after the first video, a prolonged sigh after the second video, a quick side-eye after the third video. Finally, after the fourth video and no sign of you turning down the volume, he huffs and snaps his book shut. 

“Do you have to watch that shit so loudly?” 

His tone is laden with utter annoyance. You’re caught off guard initially, having blatantly ignored his previous signs of being irritated by the noise, and your head whips up in his direction with wide eyes. The shocked look on your face quickly contorts when you catch his stare, full of hatred and vexation. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you scoff, “Let me just die of boredom I guess.” 

“I didn’t say you had to do that,” he narrows his gaze and matches your attitude with ease, “Just… solve the boredom quietly. Like I did.” 

“You were quiet because you had a book. I don’t have a book.” 

He waves an exasperated hand towards the coffee table where you catch sight of a few magazines, “Please, take your pick.”

You lock your phone reluctantly, tucking it beneath your thigh as you lean forward to glance over your options. There’s one about cars, obvious by the shiny vehicle that sits pretty on the cover, and a few hidden beneath it. You reach out and shift the laminated papers about and catch sight of a Rolling Stone cover. 

That one piques your interest, but stubborn as ever, you won’t admit it. 

“Those are the most boring fucking magazines I’ve ever seen. Who the hell likes to read about cars?” you deadpan, holding the car magazine up with a scowl. 

“Me.” 

“Predictable. What’s next, a Playboy?” 

“You’re hilarious,” he says without a hint of amusement, “Truly a comedian. Can’t you just see the tears streaming out of my eyes from how hard I’m laughing? Incredible.” 

You decide to not entertain him any further. Your hand grabs the Rolling Stone magazine, ignoring his burning gaze before you settle back into the couch. 

If he wanted to be a dick, that was fine. You were used to it by now; you’d spent the last year growing accustomed to his cold shoulders and his bitter moods around you. At this point, you expected nothing less from him. Spending a little extra time together didn’t magically change it – at both your cores, you harbored a disdain like no other. You fundamentally hated Eddie, and Eddie fundamentally hated you. The confined space, forced proximity, ticking doomsday clock, and promise of cash did nothing to put any notches in those feelings. 

“Interesting choice,” he murmurs under his breath, beginning to relax back into the cushions as well. 

“What? Is it a crime for me to like-” you pause, flipping the magazine shut to check the slick cover for what the specific issue was even about, “-The Ramones?” 

So maybe saying you liked The Ramones was an overstatement. But at this point, you’re only picking a fight for the sake of picking a fight. Because you don’t know how else to communicate with Eddie aside from with a sharp tongue and turbulent sense of sarcasm. Because when it came to the two of you, there was no such thing as small talk. 

Everything was always big. Loud. Screaming matches, bold assumptions, critical insults. 

“Pump the bitch breaks,” his eyebrows furrow, as they always do when he glances your way, “I was trying to be civil.” 

“I didn’t think civil was in your vocabulary when it came to me.” 

He exhales deeply, letting his head fall back in contempt for a moment before he lifts it and looks at you, “Is this really how you want it to be?” 

You don’t reply, and he takes it as his cue to continue. 

“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours? Won’t it get exhausting acting like a spoiled brat for that long?”

“I’m not acting like a spoiled brat,” you snap, the magazine now discarded and draped across your knee, open to a random spread, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not an act. Make no mistake, Munson, I am only doing this for the cash.” 

His book lays to gather dust on the coffee table as he leans his elbows onto his knees, twisting his body ever so slightly to face you more fully, “Really? There’s gotta be easier ways to make cash. I’m sure if you asked Stevie boy real nicely, he would have let you put that mouth to use for a quick buc-”

You cut him off, because you know how this sentence ends, and it’s too far. He’s crossed a line. You had expected it, should have seen it coming sooner, but it’s crossing a line all the same. 

“Stop,” you firmly instruct, holding up a finger, “Not that it’s any of your miserable business, but me and Steve are not like that. At all. So you can fuck right off with that comment,” you only pause briefly, and you’re glad when he doesn’t interrupt you, “And, may I remind you, you’re also getting payment out of this. I could say the same thing to you, dickwad.” 

It had been a curious itch beneath your skin – you knew why you needed the extra cash so badly, but you had no idea why Eddie did. Beneath all the hate, all the irritation, the question had come to mind briefly. But it had been pushed down by disinterest in all things regarding the man before you. At the end of the day, you didn’t care what motivated him. You didn’t care about what he did for work, you didn’t care about what magazines he read, and you definitely didn’t care to know if the five hundred was as necessary for him as it was for you. 

This was a means to an end – nothing more, nothing less. 

“Dickwad?” His nose crinkles as he parrots your words back to you, “Jesus, did you ever learn any new insults past middle school?” 

You’re ignoring him once more, picking the magazine up off of your knee and burying your nose in an article about the greatest punk albums of all time rather than letting yourself be dragged into further conversation with him, trying to send the message that this discussion was over. 

The message isn’t received. It flies right over his head. 

“Pardon me for the assumption,” you can see him hold his hands up in mock surrender in your peripherals, “You and Harrington just seem close.” 

You should just keep ignoring him. You should actually read the words inches from your face. You shouldn’t say another word; your gut is screaming at you to not say another word.

But you ignore your gut, just as he’d ignore your disinterest in talking to him. 

“What happened to being quiet? I think I liked it better when you weren’t speaking to me,” you try to say casually, keeping an air of indifference. You should have known better. As your mother always said, once you start feeding a stray, they continue to come back. 

“Sounds like it’s a sore spot. Are you and Harrington that close?” 

“Not in that way,” you grit out behind the pages, “We’re close, but not like that.” 

Your answer doesn’t satisfy him like you’d hoped, “Oh, it is so a sore spot.” 

When you finally drop the magazine to properly look at him again, it only fans the anger. He looks smug as he crosses his ankle atop his knee, leaning back and looking you over as if he can read you like cellophane. 

“It’s not,” you stress, “Seriously. Drop it.” 

In all truthfulness, it wasn’t a sore spot – not when it came to Steve. You’d always been strictly platonic, fitting fairly effortlessly into his and Robin’s friendship. 

“You definitely want to fuck Steve.” 

“You know what I actually want right now?”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“To knock your teeth in.” 

The magazine is tossed back onto the table, nearly sliding off the edge from the force behind your throw. He’s relishing the way you’re continuing to get more upset, the way he’s still inching beneath your skin in a grating motion. To him, this is all just a joke. 

“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” he mocks, smiling with his teeth as if to taunt you. 

“Why did you even agree to this?” you finally turn your body towards his and mirror his position, “Is it fun to you? Is that what it is?” 

The smile widens, “You know what? Yeah. It is fun to piss you off.” 

“Yeah?” you imitate him, putting on a forced smile in an attempt to look as ridiculous as he did right now. You fold your hands and prop your elbows onto your knees, continuing to mock mercilessly as you balance your chin atop them and bat your lashes dramatically, “Please, tell me more. Tell me all about how fun it is.” 

In an instant, you drop the smile and begin to return to your previous position. It was rhetorical – you don’t expect a response, and yet he offers one nonetheless. 

“Well,” he begins, “First of all, the way you go red in the face is fucking hilarious. Seriously, it’s just like the cartoons. Absolutely ridiculous. I think by the end of this, I’ll get to see steam come out of your ears,” you’re already reaching for your phone, tuning him out, as he continues on, “And then it’s the way you’re just so damn easy. I mean, come on. Sometimes, all I have to do is breathe, and it sends you on a tirade. You just make it too simple, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The nickname is prickly and as uncomfortable as ever, lodging into your ears against your better judgment. It creeps across your brain, travels down your spine, numbs your fingertips. You hate the shockwaves it’s capable of sending down your nerves. 

He’s right, at the end of the day. These days, you hardly put up a fight in expressing all your negative emotions towards him. If necessary, you could pinpoint a time where he really did simply breathe and you had proceeded to curse him out for it. Sometimes, just the sight of him can sour your entire mood. He’s an ever-present, persistent, irritating rain-cloud that looms on the edges of your life by circumstance. You can’t get rid of him. You can’t get rid of your hatred for him; you’ve always had a preference for sunny weather. 

“Careful,” you hum, not looking his way as you glance down at the time that glows from your lock screen: 5:46 PM. “It almost sounds like you enjoy my presence, Munson.” 

Indifference. You needed to practice indifference to survive the next twenty three hours. 

“Oh, that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” he says, “You are the worst part of my days. You’re like bad leftovers – everytime I see you, the bile immediately rises in my throat. Whenever Steve mentions you’ll be somewhere, I cancel plans. Whenever you show up without warning, I start counting down the minutes till I can get away from you.” 

The indifference begins to break. You finally look at him, keeping a steady expression. 

“You could go missing, you could vanish off the face of this earth, and I wouldn't blink an eye. As a matter of fact, I’d probably celebrate. Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.” 

It hurts. It might be Eddie, and you might be used to his spiteful words he uses as weapons against you, but it still hurts. The sting resembles a slap as you process each of his words. Each deliberate syllable – the specific referencing to the group as his friends and not your friends, the unblinking glare of his dark eyes, the insinuation that your death could bring him joy – drives deeper into your chest. It’s a human reaction; it doesn’t matter if the boy before you is the enemy, it still bruises to hear anyone say such things about you. The human need to be accepted, to be liked, to at least be tolerated, still twists in your gut. 

And he only presses forth. He doesn’t catch the pain spreading in your limbs because you don’t let the hurt raging in your chest spread across your face. You don’t let him see you bleed. 

“I’d attend your funeral with a party hat and sparklers. Confetti, even. The whole nine yards along with my finest bottle of champagne,” he hammers the final nail into a coffin, one that you’re not sure of whom it belongs to. Maybe it’s yours, sealing you six feet under with your cursed emotions. Maybe it’s his, locking him into the tomb to dwell in his ability to always take things too far. 

You won’t let him see you bleed.

You stand abruptly, making him flinch in the slightest. You keep your face turned from him as you take your phone and storm off into the hallway wordlessly. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” he calls after you. 

But he’s not following you. No footsteps echo your own as you turn into the only other doorway aside from the bathroom. 

He has a clear line of sight of you from the couch, and he can see you disappear into his room. 

The door slams shut behind you with a riveting bang. Your nimble fingertips fumble with twisting the lock into place, chest heaving as you finally let your eyes burn. 

He can’t see you. You finally bleed. 

The tears are feverish as they roll down your cheeks one by one, taking slow steps backward as you squeeze them shut and will them away. There are no accompanying whimpers, or sobs, or hiccups. It’s just you, the salty streams, and the now overwhelming scent of him.

He’s only managed to make you cry, make you bleed this way, once before. The night of Steve’s party, the night you had attempted to make him bleed in retaliation. You’d harbored the need to cut him open desperately that night, to crack open his chest and assure yourself he could bleed the same scarlet as you, that there was still a weathered heart behind his calloused ribs that could beat the same as yours. 

But you never did. At the end of that night, you had been the only one left bloodied and bandaged, aside from Steve’s glass as collateral damage. He remained unscathed.

The door knob shakes suddenly, and your eyes flash back open. Another shake, and you hear him huffing. 

“Seriously? Did you just lock me out of my own room?” His voice comes from the other side of the door. 

The bleeding stops. The wound seals. Even if he can’t see you through the door, just to know that his presence resides on the other side of it is enough to put an end to your trembling breaths. 

“Fuck off,” you call out hoarsely. 

“Let me in. It’s my room.” 

“No.”

He sighs, and a thump sounds that you assume is his forehead falling against the wood in defeat, “Why do you insist on acting like a child?” 

“You’re the one with a collection of action figures!” you fight back with your weakest insult of the night. He twists the doorknob without fruition a few more times, a couple sharp knocks sound as you turn to get a better look at the room you’d run into without observation. 

It’s nothing extravagant, which makes sense. He has an entire apartment to spill his wretched personality across, which means there’s no need to condense it into the decor of his bedroom. He doesn’t have to express himself in a limited space as you do with your dorm. There’s a few posters of various bands hung crookedly on the wall, a dresser with a few of the drawers half open with assortments of clothes peeking out before they overflow onto the carpeted flooring, and a bed left unmade. His jersey sheets are plaid, worn and clearly well-loved. Despite the expected mess trailing about the rest of the floor, the space beside the bed is left cleared, and you decide to settle yourself down onto the patch. 

Your phone buzzes in your tight fist as your back settles up against the side of the bed. 

“Unlock the door,” his voice persists impatiently again. 

“Go to Hell.”

“I’m already there. Stuck with you.” 

Maybe the wound isn’t quite sealed, because the words fall like salt into your chest. 

“Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.” 

There’s more to say, but the chiming of a phone cuts off your thoughts. You glance down to your cell phone – not yours. 

The ringing is more muted, behind the door. With Eddie.

It’s Eddie’s phone. 

You’re about to call out a snarky remark about him getting that, but the ringing cuts off before you have the chance. It’s clear he’s walked away from the door as the echoes of his voice fades, the conversation inaudible to you through the walls. 

Your fingers dig into the carpet beside your thighs as you pull at individual strands that stick out, finally discarding your phone on the opposite side. Eventually, your touch trails closer to the edge of the bed, plucking, plucking, plucking until you collide with laminated paper sticking out from beneath the bed. 

What’s this? 

Just as you’re about to pull what you assume is a magazine from beneath the bed, your phone begins to buzz violently, this time the ringtone being your own. 

The screen lights up with Steve’s contact photo. It can’t be good.

“Hello?” you answer once you pick the phone up after a few moments of pause. 

“You can’t lock him out of his own room.”

“Oh, hey, Steve. I’m great, thanks for asking. Really living the drea-”

“You can’t lock him out of his own room,” Steve repeats with more emphasis, disregarding your sarcastic tone completely. 

You stare across the room at an acoustic guitar resting on a stand. This machine slays dragons, it reads in bold, white lettering. 

“So you were the one who called him,” you mumble. 

Steve sighs over the line, “No. Nance called him, because you haven’t sent the proof to the chat yet. We were trying to give you guys a grace period, but-”

“But you assumed we’d already murdered each other,” you finish his sentence. 

“Can you blame us? What did he even say to make you board yourself up in his room?” 

You scoff softly, “He didn’t tell Nancy?” 

The moment Steve mentioned Nancy was the one calling Eddie, you’d simply assumed he’d filled her in. 

Before you’d weaseled your way into the friend group, there had been clear, strong bonds already set in place: Robin & Steve, Jonathan & Argyle, and Nancy & Eddie. Three sets of best friends who all wove together to form their large friend group with ease.

You were the odd man out. They never treated you as such, except for Eddie, but it was an insecurity that could eat you alive if you ever gave it the time of day. And maybe that was why Eddie’s earlier words had cut so deeply. He was voicing a fear you always tried to bury deep down. 

“No,” Steve says as if it were obvious, “He just started going off about how you had locked him out of his room amongst…. Um, amongst other things.” 

Other things. You could guess what those other things had been; no doubt, he’d spent his time on the phone bitching about you. He’d probably called you every crude name in his rolodex of hatefulness. 

“Right,” you drawl, eyes flickering around the room to seek out another distraction to mindlessly stare at. Suddenly, you remember the magazine you had discovered just as Steve called, “Well, nothing surprising. The usual, really. Just how he hates my guts, he finds me annoying, he wouldn’t care if I died-” 

“-What?” 

You ignore Steve’s gasp of disbelief and carry on, “-All the classic insults you would say to your arch nemesis.” 

Steve says your name softly, still carrying an air of shock, “He didn’t mean that. I- Listen, he’s an asshole sometimes, but I guarantee he would care-”

“Who cares?” you interrupt, “I don’t blame him. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to care if I meet my untimely demise. I kind of figured he was going to murder me anyways, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was… that was joking around, he…” Steve trails off, because you both know he’s full of shit. 

There was no joking around between you and Eddie. A painful truth, considering when you first joined the friend group, you had such high hopes of getting along with him. 

“It’s whatever. Do you still need me to send proof?” you ask, fingers now playing with the crumpled edges of the magazine. Even half-hidden, you could see there were pages that had been dog-eared. 

You almost don’t hear Steve as he tells you that it’s fine, that now they know the two of you are definitely together. It’s already nearly time for the next check in anyways. 

“Alright, in that case…” your tongue peaks out as you begin to tug the magazine out of hiding. The moment the magazine's title comes into sight, you gasp, frozen as the phone nearly slips out of your hand.

Fucking jackpot.

“You good?” Steve asks. 

Playboy. A goddamn Playboy magazine. 

“Never better,” you rush out, eager to hang up so you can utilize this ammunition against Eddie, “Talk later, Steve-O.” 

You don’t give him a chance to echo a goodbye before you hang up, tossing your phone off to the side with a muted thump. Your focus is entirely on the magazine before you, crinkling as you hold it in your hands and bite back laughter. 

Against your better judgment, you open the cover, mouth falling open as you flip through page after page of nude women and cigarette ads. Some pages stick together, and you don’t dare to peel them apart, cringing at the thought of just why they’re sticky. You come to the first page that had been dog-earred, and your jaw clicks as your mouth falls agape. 

Fucking pervert. He’s a goddamn pervert. 

A well-timed knock sounds at the door once more, Eddie’s knuckles sharp in their three strikes, “Can you let me in now?” 

It’s the closest to a please you’re going to get. 

“Sorry, busy!” you call out in response, still staring at the spread.

The nude woman eerily resembles you. Same hair, same skin tone, similar noses. The Universe has dropped the most loving of gifts in your laps in the form of this magazine, something you know you can use to get under Eddie’s skin as severely as he had done to you. 

“Busy?” he protests, knocking on the door again before you hear the shaking of the doorknob again, “What the fuck are you doing in there? I told you, don’t touch my shit.”

You bite your lip, smile curling the corners of your mouth as you finally stand from the floor, knees cracking as you keep the magazine open to the photo. Eddie has gone scarily quiet, and you can’t even make out his breathing. His shadow has stilled completely as it peaks in from under the doorway. 

He’s never living this down. 

You’re still grinning with ill-intent as you shout, “Wow. Who knew I was right about the Playboy?”

Those words are all it takes for the frantic pounding on the door to begin.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @imtryingahh @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @liv0679 @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @eddiemunxson @ohmeg @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @whosbettysstuff

(if your name is crossed out like so, it means i am unable to tag you)

taglist is now closed. &lt;3

[kazmura]

HELLAVATOR ✶ park sunghoon x fem reader 0.9k warnings, kissing rejection fluff angst if you squint ﹕ series masterlist

decelis installed a new elevator! no more running up fifteen floors to get to your class, though whoever installed this elevator must've been a flake - asking out your crush of 7 months, you get rejected and immediately after you find yourself stuck in a broken elevator with him

9/3/23 Journal Entry

I need to do this today. Yes, today. No other day works.

This might seem as a schoolgirl summoning her courage on an ordinary Friday to confess her feelings. However, anyone holding this view would be utterly mistaken. If there were a law against being cowardly as hell, you can bet I'd be the first one locked up.

Every week I resolve that on Friday, I will confess, only to back out at the last minute, reassuring myself with the excuse 'I'll definitely do it next week.' So I anxiously await every Friday, week after week. But this time is different. Waiting any longer is not an option; I must face rejection to move forward.

It's Park Sunghoon who's causing this. I once regarded him as your typical popular guy, constantly surrounded by friends and always looking good no matter what. But now I know he's more. I tutor him every Friday, and that's when I started liking him. Not Park Sunghoon, the popular pretty-faced boy, but Sunghoon—the boy who struggles with basic math, but tries his best just so I can leave early. Sunghoon, who has a habit of accidentally buying an extra strawberry milk and hesitantly hands it to me. Sunghoon, who prefers chocolate milk over strawberry. He’s not as slick as he thinks.

Nonetheless I have to do this today, so whoever’s stalking my journal, pray for me please!

𓂃

The clock ticked closer to the appointed time for their session. As the minutes passed, anticipation and nervousness swirled within her. She gathered her belongings, her heart pounding with fear. This was the day she had been both dreading and longing for.

Meanwhile, in another part of the school, Sunghoon's thoughts were preoccupied with his upcoming tutoring. He picked up his bag, contemplating the strawberry milk he had bought this morning. The action had become a small tradition between them—something he did half on purpose, half out of habit. He wondered if she would notice his deliberate mistake this time, or if their dynamic would continue as it had been.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of classes for the day, her heart skipped a beat. With a deep breath, she headed towards their meeting spot - in front of the newly installed elevator. It’s good they finally installed it, running up flights of stairs was never ideal for any of the students. Sunghoon was already there, waiting. His eyes met hers, and a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips. This was the moment.

Their gazes locked, and she felt butterflies swirling within her. The elevator doors stood slightly open, as if inviting them to step inside and share a moment that could change the course of their relationship.

With a gentle push of her bag against her thigh, she moved forward, approaching Sunghoon. "Hey," she greeted, voice a touch softer than usual.

"Hey," he replied, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Ready for another Friday of challenging math problems?"

She chuckled, a nervous edge to her laughter. "Always up for the challenge." Her eyes flickered towards the elevator doors, the metaphor not lost on either of them.

He caught her glance, and shyness tinted their expressions a delicate shade of pink.

“Okay, I know this is really sudden," she blurted out, her words rushing as if to match the racing beat of her heart. "But I really, really like you, and I have for like, a really long time now. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I just couldn’t, and I don’t know, but maybe we can go out together? Like a date? But that’s only if you really want to, and—“

“Stop!” he exclaimed, his voice surprisingly loud in the confined space of the elevator.

His sudden outburst caught her off guard, and she fell silent, her heart pounding even faster now, if that were possible. Sunghoon's face had turned a shade of red that rivaled hers, and his gaze was fixed on the ground. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, a clear sign of his unease.

"I'm sorry," he began, his words coming out in a rush, "I didn't mean to interrupt you like that. It's just I didn't expect this, and I'm really flattered— I just need a moment to gather my thoughts."

Her heart sank, embarrassment and disappointment washing over her. Had she been too forward? Was he not interested after all? The silence that hung between them in the elevator felt almost suffocating.

"It's fine, really. Let's cancel our tutoring today."

"Wait, but that's not what I meant—"

Arriving at floor 3, the elevator announced.

"I should go," she said, her voice a blend of awkwardness and a desire to escape. She felt an overwhelming urge to run, to hide beneath layers of pillows and blankets, and erase the memory of this moment. To pretend that Park Sunghoon had never even existed.

The elevator didn't open.

As she uttered those words and expected the door to open, it remained stubbornly shut. A brief flicker of confusion crossed her face, her eyebrows furrowing as she pressed the button for the door to open manually.

"Is something wrong?" Sunghoon's voice came from behind her, concern lacing his tone.

She turned to face him, the reality of the situation settling in. "I think the elevator's stuck?"

Sunghoon's eyes widened, and he moved closer to her side, pressing the door open button alongside her. The soft chime of the button echoed through the confined space, but the doors remained firmly closed.

"Seriously?" he muttered, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

She felt a nervous laugh bubble up. "It seems so."

The two of them exchanged a look, a mixture of disbelief and amusement in their eyes. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on them — a confession, followed by what seems to be a rejection, and now they were stuck in together.

Sunghoon sighed, pressing the help button and leaning against the wall, his gaze shifting to her.

She moved to lean against the wall opposite him, her cheeks burning with the full weight of embarrassment that the situation had brought. The intensity of the moment had made her feel exposed, fixing her gaze firmly on the floor to escape it.

“Hey,” he started, his voice soft and soothing, though she didn't immediately respond.

Walking a few steps up to her, Sunghoon gently placed his fingers under her chin, coaxing her to look up at him. The touch of his warm fingers against her skin sent a swarm of butterflies dancing through her body – cursing her heart for betraying her so blatantly.

“I bought your favorite,” he said, his voice carrying playfulness and sincerity. He held up the carton of milk, a small gesture that carried immense weight in the moment. “Will you let me finish talking now?”

Her gaze flickered between his eyes and the strawberry milk he was offering, her heart thudding in her chest. She took the carton from him, her fingers brushing against his for a brief, electrifying moment. "Thank you," she mumbled, feeling a mixture of emotions that she struggled to put into words.

Sunghoon leaned against the wall next to her again, the closeness between them feeling both comforting and nerve-wracking. "I wanted to say something earlier," he began, his eyes fixed on her, "before the elevator interrupted us."

She nodded, her heart pounding so loudly she feared he could hear it.

He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "I like you too, yn. I didn't expect this, but I've liked you for a while now. And I'd really like to go on that date with you."

Suddenly, her body felt light as air, as if all the worries had been carried away by a gentle breeze. Her cheeks were still pink, but this time it wasn't from embarrassment. Her heart fluttered, and a genuine smile bloomed on her face.

Lost in the intoxicating moment, she took a few tentative steps closer to him. Her heart raced as her arms found their way around his neck, pulling him gently closer. With a soft, affectionate smile, she pressed her lips against his, igniting a fire within them both. His laughter was a delightful melody, his broad grin revealing his genuine happiness, as he drew her into his arms. Their lips met once more, not just in a kiss, but in a melding of desires and emotions. The world around them seemed to fade as their mouths moved in a rhythm fueled by the intensity of their feelings. Every touch was an exploration, every sigh a confession. In that passionate kiss, they spoke the unspoken, conveying all the longing, affection, and yearning that had been built between them.

As their kiss deepened, they were oblivious to their surroundings, lost in the world they were creating within that confined space. The elevator doors had silently slid open, revealing the hallway beyond. There Sunghoon's friends stood, amused expressions plastered their faces.

"He's cheating on me!" Jake shouted dramatically, his voice echoing through the corridor.

Sunghoon pulled away from the kiss to roll his eyes, still holding her in his embrace. "You're ridiculous."

Reaching over to close the elevator doors once again, effectively shutting his friends out. Their amused faces were left behind as the doors closed, creating a private sanctuary once more. Sunghoon turned back to her with a sheepish grin.

"Let's continue now, shall we?"

💬 kind of really hate this but I wrote it all already so it'd kill me to redo might take it down later, I had fun with it though so I hope it didn't come out too bad - im entering flop era so please pleasee reblog if you enjoy!

taglist open! @kflixnet @cherryunnie @okwons @flwrshee @beomsbeanie @parksunghoonsgf @mrchweeee @en-chantedtomeetyou

[josephquinnswhore]

Hi there! Let me start off by saying that I absolutely adore your writing :D

I have a request if that is okay:

Could you do one of Pedro x plus!size reader where he comes home and finds reader on the couch/in bed crippled with awful period pains and are feeling really emotional about pain/how they look when like this? He does everything in his power to make them feel better (it breaks his heart seeing his world like this). Make it as emotional and as fluffy as you like!

Thankyou, take care <3

I’ve Got You - pedro pascal x plus size!female reader

Summary: Pedro takes care of you while you’re on your period.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of blood, insecurity, nudity, slightly suggestive behaviour & language.

Note: I’m going to make it that the reader has PCOS, I hope that’s okay. Cause it needs more awareness 🤍 thanks for requesting, I hope you love it. Thank you so much for your kind words anon, sorry for the wait 🥰

On a normal day, by midday you would have showered, cleaned the house, ticking off your chores one at a time as you listen to the music playing off the tv that had connected to your Spotify. You would have made yourself breakfast, normally something fresh and fulfilling and homemade. Lunch you would have made an extra serving for Pedro to enjoy when he got home, he was expected to be home around this time, and gone on a run around the city and stop by the local Starbucks for your routine afternoon coffee and cake with Pedro as you watch a movie. You’d have watered the house plants and read a few chapters of your favourite book that sat beside the bed as Pedro dozed off on your lap as you hold the book open in one hand skilfully and massaged his head with the other hand.

But today was not a normal day. It was a day where even at midday, 12pm. You were stuck in bed, still wearing your pyjamas from the night before, hair starting to form knots as you hadn’t taken out the braids or brushed it out. Your only moment out of the comfort you found in this bed was to go to the toilet, and even that was a struggle. You held both hands on your stomach, cradling it as if it would help alleviate the pain that had you doubled over as you waddle to the bathroom, when you realise you had just started your period, the inconvenience earning a groan from you. That was hours ago, 5 hours ago to be exact. You’d done nothing since, you were simply existing.

Pedro was due home any minute as you gather the strength to check the time, the watch on your wrist turning on the minute. Your cramps haven’t subsided, the worsening pain that formed in your abdomen has now spread to your thighs, back and even shoulders, your whole body aching from the severity of the pain your period brought on. You were diagnosed with a hormonal disorder, PCOS, which contributed to your excruciating period pains and emotionally charged state of depression. Your hormones had you in a vice grip, forcing the tears out of your eyes as the pain turns up a notch, your cramps unwavering in their determination to cause you as much pain as possible, your legs feel a sensation of numbness.

You just want to stand up, maybe just long enough to fetch a heating pad, or some sleeping pills to knock you out of the consciousness so you didn’t have to feel the pain, your stomachs emptiness added to the ache your tummy felt, the extra squish of your stomach ends up between your fingers tight grip, trying to create a new pain to destruct yourself with. Your frustration is growing by the minute, the pain and hormones are driving you insane, all you want is Pedro to come home and hold you. But also not want to see him at all, you never wanted him to see you like this; crippled and unhygienic, lethargic and depressed; the house was still a mess and you felt ashamed that nothing had been done.

The front door shuts and you brace yourself for Pedro to express his disappointment at the state of the house; and you. “Honey?” When he calls out you don’t respond, instead you clench your eyes, the tears that had been welling fell down your cheeks, your sobs you’d been holding in had escaped your wet lips. He didn’t expect to find you like this; but immediately knew what was happening, he knew what to expect with you, knew you were fragile and he had to tread carefully.

His large hand was soft on the side of your face as he caressed your cheeks, his fingers tickling you as he wipes your tears. “Oh honey.” You’re too ashamed to meet his gaze, you can feel his warmth and his soft gaze but you’re too embarrassed to look at him. His fingers carefully wipe the tears under your eyes, your wet eyelashes stick together as he does so. “Look at me honey.” His voice sounds like honey, it’s so sweet and tooth rotting, how could you not look at him when he asks. Your eyes open hesitantly, tears still falling from them and through the blurriness it creates you see a concerned look on your boyfriends face.

“I-I’m I haven’t cleaned or showered I just-“ your voice cracks and stutters from the emotion turmoil you’re going through. “Don’t ever apologise to me for that honey. You’re in pain and I don’t expect you to do anything while you’re suffering.” Your lip wobbles and you breathe out a laugh, sniffling as you realise how silly you feel for thinking he would be mad at you, he has never treated you anything less than perfect.

“Can you stand? We’re going to get you showered, it might help with the cramps.” You bit your lip, “I don’t know, I might need you to help me.” You mumble, “I got you honey, come on, that’s it.” His hands are outstretched towards you and guides you off the bed and into the bathroom, you’re half crouched over and holding your stomach, the movement seems to be helping the pain ever so slightly. He turns the hot water on high, the cold water barely running through the shower head. “Try the water hun and let me know how it feels.” You step to the edge of the shower, your fingers emerging into the steaming water and you hun in delight, “it’s perfect.”

“Let’s get you undressed now hm?” Your eyes held doubt, not wanting him to see the soaked pad you’re wearing. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, just let me take care of you.” You nod, silently agreeing to let him help you, your whole face is red in embarrassment as he undressed you, your pyjamas stripped of you and Pedro admires your body, your tits drop as they sit in place, slightly sagging from the weight of them, your soft stomach hangs over your pubic bone, your love handles poke out over your underwear, the small bow in the middle of them hidden until Pedro takes them off. He kneels down and cradles your stomach, kissing it, wishing he could do more to take the pain away.

His fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear, looking at you as he pulls them down, sensing your discomfort. You lift your feet and he pulls your underwear off your body, “hop in baby.” He urges and you do, a soft moan leaves your body as the steaming hot water hits your body, almost immediately providing a temporary relief, you hear the lord of the bin near the toilet close as he discards of your disposables. To your surprise, he strips of his own clothing and steps into the shower behind you, his hands are almost immediately on your hips, running up and down your curves, fingers digging in as he massages you, your knees almost buckle and he grips your hips, “got you baby, I won’t let you fall.”

The way his fingers felt on your skin was euphoric, all you could think about was how they’d feel in your- what was it with being on your period that made you so horny? You clench your thighs together and sigh in frustration. “I know baby, I know.” He kisses the skin between your neck and shoulder, worsening the urge to take him in the shower.

He’s soaping up a green luifer, the body wash suds smell amazing, the pomegranate and berry scent was incredible, the steam carried the scent throughout the room. He starts with your breasts, washing them and moving down to your stomach, paying extra attention to your abdomen, the soap between his fingers make them glide down your wet skin. It feels incredible, you feel clean and comfortable, the pain was barely noticeable with the hot water and the massage of Pedro’s fingers on your shoulders, he drags the soap down your back and rubs his fingers in circles, his skilled fingers create a sinful sensation that makes you throw your head back, resting on his chest and you hum to yourself in contentment. “How are you feeling honey?”

Your eyes flutter as they struggle to stay open, “feel amazing baby.” Your voice is almost slurred with how good you’re feeling. The laugh the comes out of your boyfriends mouth is a sweet melody to your ears, “we’d better get you something to eat, can’t have this beautiful tummy empty can we sweetheart?” You shake your head no, the grumble of your empty stomach agreeing with his statement.

When you’re dressed and out of the shower you feel a bit better, the ache is full and still lingering. Pedro offers some anti inflammatory tablets to encourage you to try and alleviate the pain.

He makes your favourite meal, cooks it fresh using ingredients from his fridge, your mouth is salivating at the smell as he’s cooking and you can hardly wait, but thankfully he’s quick in cooking you food knowing you’re impatient having not eaten at all today. Hell accompany the food with a bottle of water, he doesn’t want you to get dehydrated.

“You wanna pick the movie?” He asks, watching you as you eat your meal, the steam not deterring you from eating it although it’s hot. “Narcos,” you mumble with a mouth full of half chewed food, Pedro’s not bothered. He does raise an eyebrow at your choice of what to watch. “Seriously?” You huff, swallowing your food. “Yeah seriously, I wanna see my seriously sexy boyfriend when he was younger. Even though he is even sexier with age.” You sent him a wink and he chuckles at you, “okay, okay fine.” He plays what you want, just glad you’re feeling better, you’re feeling clean, refreshed, your pain is being medicated, your plush tummy is being attended to with your favourite food. The chores weren’t done; but to hell with the house. You were more important.

[hangesbrattyapprentice]

Sleuths & Syndicates

Part 3

Mafia Boss! Shigaraki x fem!reader

art by ichiya1115

˚✧₊⁎ find Part 1 & Part 2 here ⁎⁺˳✧༚

~MDNI~

Being Tomura Shigaraki’s captive becomes easier once you stop fighting it. Before, he’d leave you bound and gagged for hours, days, unconcerned with your wellbeing. Only consumed with having your body available for him whenever the urge struck him. He’d fall asleep nuzzling your breasts, his cold legs entangled with your immobile ones. For weeks, the only people you’d see besides him were the cleaning staff who seemed assiduously oblivious to your existence even as you screamed for help. But you saw how soft he’d get when you were pliant, and your will to survive made you use it to your advantage no matter how much you hated yourself for it.

He was observant. Knew just how to get a reaction out of you. Weeks of having you tied up and unable to stop him or squirm away from his prying fingers and tongue had let him learn exactly what made you tick. Things you hadn’t even known about yourself. He made you feel good. So if you forgot everything about the world outside of that room, about who you were, things weren’t so bad. He kept you fed and made you cum and only hurt you if you displeased him – or if he felt like it.

When you’ve both grown more familiar your situation, he gradually gives you more liberty. You’re allowed to move freely within his mansion, although he’s strengthened the guard. You don’t often ask for things but when you do, Tomura makes sure you get them.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Sunny? You just had bubble tea yesterday,” he rolls his eyes. But he doesn’t send one of his men. He gets it himself on his way back home so he can see the stars in your eyes when he hands you the cup. “Whadya say, brat?” And here’s why you have him wrapped around your finger. You know he’d be happy with a sweet “thank you, Don” and a blowjob, but you don’t need him happy. If you are to survive – to escape someday – you need him absolutely enraptured.

So you make sure he reads the sin in your eyes before you ask him if he’d like a taste. And when he takes the bait, quirking an eyebrow, you pop the seal and let the milky liquid pour slowly over your mouth, neck, and breasts, drenching the shirt you’re wearing until the fabric is sheer and stuck to your nipples. It’s almost endearing how his jaw hangs open – or it would be, were he not the devil himself. But you channel your hatred into lust and guide him by the back of his neck to your mouth, letting him lap up the sweet drink. His tongue runs up along the column of your neck before he lowers his head further to suck greedily at your tits through the shirt. The feel of his tongue with the added texture of the wet fabric has you moaning above him, raking your nails against his scalp.

And because he’s feeling extra generous, he turns you around and gives you his solid thigh to ride from behind while he teases your nips, head bent over your shoulder, with slow licks and quick twists between his fingers. Despite yourself, you’re coming undone so quickly, the feel of his hard thigh under pressed trousers somehow giving you what you need. Heel lifted, he pulses his leg up and down in time with the rocking of your hips and you’re so close, already feeling the tiny contractions coming when he suddenly pushes you off of him, making you fall to the floor on all fours.

“No, please!” You wail, hips thrusting uselessly into nothing, chasing your lost orgasm.

“I thought the bubble tea was for you, pet. Not me,” he smirks. His pants are around his ankles when you turn to face him and he’s found the half-empty cup, tilting it over his throbbing erection. “Don’t you want it?”

You give him what he wants – a messy blowjob worthy of a porno, wondering if your little act was all for nothing. He’s seconds away from cumming when you decide to risk your life for some petty revenge. You lift your head, gasping for air, but instead of swallowing him right back down your throat, you stay put, panting on his flushed cock, just out of reach.

“F-fuck! Sunny-nnghh!” Tomura roars, legs quivering. But instead of grabbing your head and violently fucking your face like you expected, he’s whimpering beneath you, begging, and then you’re both gaping at each other in equal surprise. Tentatively, you reach for the restraints that would usually hold your wrists and his ruby eyes follow you, a slew of emotions reflected in them clear as day. He’s a little frightened but also very hopeful.

Straddling his torso, you tie his right hand to the bedpost and then his left, kissing him slow and tender in between. He’s an absolute wreck and you haven’t even started yet. You’ve never done anything like this before, wouldn’t even know what “edging” is but with how responsive Shigaraki is, it comes to you naturally. With kitten licks and slow strokes of your fingertip, you bring him right to the edge of release before backing away and letting him cool off, over and over and over again. And when he moans, you can’t help but moan with him. You’re enjoying this, too. Your pussy aches with need. You want to ride him, and when you ask him if he can hold off his orgasm til you say so, he huffs a drunken laugh.

“Sorry, Sunshine. Don’t think I can hold it if you so much as breathe on my dick right now. What’s wrong?” he adds, seeing the frown on your face. Then he growls. “Fuck, don’t tell me this is turning you on that much, my sick little pet. C’mere.”

When you just look at him confused, he clarifies, “come sit on my face. Use me to get yourself off ’slong as you want, baby.” He’s panting hard, voice raspier than usual, cock twitching helplessly. Something inside you snaps.

You’re bracing yourself with your forearms against the wall, riding Shigaraki’s tongue as he eats you out like his life depends on it. His arms strain against the ropes, corded muscles bulging. You’re cumming for the second time, slick and spit dripping down his face and he’s groaning like he’s in agony but can’t stop lapping you up for even a second, even though you’re whimpering and backing away from the overstimulation.

Suddenly one of the restraints snaps, and in the back your head you’re furious – how often you’d have given anything for one of those ropes to snap when it was you tied up – but you’re somewhat blissed out, mid-orgasm and caught off guard when Shigaraki uses his free arm to topple you so you’re on your back, head hanging off the side of the mattress with his arms now holding both your thighs open for him and his mouth free to continue its assault on your cunt.

His lips close over your swollen clit, suckling on it hard. You scream, hands fisting and tangling in his fluffy, white hair. Two thick fingers stretch you out and pump into you, easily finding your most sensitive spot and you’re cumming all over again, legs shaking uncontrollably and sparks going off in your head. You’re pulled back fully onto the mattress by your throat and his fingers are quickly replaced by his cock and fuck he’s so damn hard you’ve never felt him this thick before. He’s not fucked you so rough since before you became “Sunny” but you love it and you’re so grateful when he spills his seed inside you but still keeps going, fucking it deeper into you. You’re begging him not to stop, and he’s eager to oblige.

It takes a while, but when you’re both worn out, clean and curled up in bed, Tomura is sweet and gentle. He’s got you tucked into his side, head resting on his chest, hand carding through your hair while the tv throws dim, flickering blue light over an otherwise dark room. He kisses the top of your head.

“I love you, Sunny,” he murmurs, and you’re just about far gone enough to almost feel as if this could be a normal relationship. Almost.

“Fuckin’ love you so god damn much. What did I do to deserve you, hm?”  

You curl up further into yourself, and to Shigaraki, it feels like a hug.

[rreskk]

Thank u sm for feeding the Trevor lovers of the fandom! Could you write a shortfic where Trevor cums right as he begins to fuck the fem!reader? Extra bonus if he gets bashful after <3

Bashful Trevor is very adorable... I also included this request (down below) as I had a good idea to merge them both. So thank you both users for requesting these amazing ideas! I hope you enjoy this fanfic because I certainly did.

Summary: A deep analysis of the pure abyss when he's fucking your pussy hard.

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 1278

“Oh, fuck…” In a phase of rapture, you grew numb.

He was savage. The animal claw, his tongue, was brittle against your hard nipple. He sucked until you felt drained. Your eyes could barely stay open, not when he was dismantling the remainder of your sensibilities. Your breasts were at his discourse, a piece of meat, some fat skin to spread his slimes and saliva with little to no respect. His name was stained at the root of your mouth. Every time you pronounced the syllables, the venomous pleasure encouraged more of his ruthlessly physical contact. He found your moans arousing, and while he glared his bite marks and dirty tongue across your chest, his cock had eruptively trespassed into your soaked cunt.

Trevor had already came moments before the true penetration. Your sweated body and swollen lips had made him weak. The tip of his boner had drools of his semen, the fluids being smeared around your sex as he thrusted.

“Trevor, please! Oh, God!”

His body was directly trembling on yours. His elbows dug into the mattress from either side of your naked body, his head buried in between your tits, his hips rocking back and forth; striving, beating you to a pimp.

Heavy grunts muffled from his ugly mouth. Trevor rested his chin against your left breast, his tongue slimly licking the tip of your tormented nipple as he maintained intense eye-contact. Every time you attempted to look away, he thrusted hard – skin rashes from his thighs paining yours.

“Ah, ah!” You heaved in and out, your back arching, forgetting about Trevor lying on you, “Fuck, so good!”

“You pretty little thing.” He admired your flustered state. While speaking, he was breathless. He barely made audible sounds.

The bed struggled to contain his forcible thrusts. It was like he was pinning you against the mattress, restricting your mobility. His chin remained digging into your chest as he watched you intently. The sight of you sweating and arching due to the confusing sensations of his dick grinding hard against your pussy.

“You don’t know what to do with yourself, ain’t that right, sugar?”

You hadn’t of responded. You were too busy experiencing high-lights of your tickling pleasure.

“So needy for my cock…” Trevor continue to pester.

“Trevor – “

“Mmm, I love the way you say my name,” His tongue started to lick your nipple again, “You look real slutty… It’s hot.”

Glancing down, you choked out moans and grasped his hair for support. What was left of the hair on his head, it was enough to tug and make him growl in gratification.

“Harder…” You wished.

“Harder?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

Trevor groaned as he adjusted himself, using his hands so he was hovering over you now. His head was inches away from yours, his chest rubbing the surface of your tits. His thrusts were getting deeper now. He was fully indulging into you, the dick’s oozing cum from his past orgasm scattering its ashes upon your sex. Your legs were left shaking, one curling around his small waist.

“You desperate whore.” He’d giggle and stare down at you squirm.

His touch had traced cold shivers throughout your bones. The effect of his intimate affections had made you small and submissive. There was no tick, it was a growing fuel that made it a sudden reaction. The dirty names he’d call you, the treatment of a beaten doll, his hot cum already painting it’s territory inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” And he rocked faster, the slapping sound from both your hips cramming with every second of silence.

Your breasts huddled together and wobbled at the severe impact. You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking and spazzing with anticipation. Not when he was inspecting your wild hunger for his cock, just like a pretty little slut.

“Open your mouth, sugar,” Trevor whispered and leaned closer, “Open wide.”

Those tender, crackled lips separated, and your gullet opened wide for his impatience. You whimpered, trying not to disobey accidentally, yet he was fucking you too great. There was not a chance to prepare as he kept on accelerating his thrusts.  

“There she is… My favourite cum wrack.”

His nasty thumb forced you to open wider and you watched him ease his head lower, a lonely stand of saliva dripping from his mouth into yours. Your tongue welcomed his salty spit until he spat again. You felt him build up a good bundle before loudly hawking the saliva load into your wrenched throat.

Trevor grinned. He closed your mouth with his two fingers and pressed a passionate kiss amongst your over-heated forehead. He giggled when you struggled to swallow his saliva. You were oddly turned on yet grossed…

“You’re a Devil, baby. Ain’t no girl as pathetic, sexy… Fuckin’ slutty as you. I love my women easy, hm? You love being used.” He troubled.

You wailed shortly after the G spot was outstretched and pricked. The longing moan you made had alerted him of your sensitive area. He smirked, hovering over your body again and pushed in harder and harder, each time devouring your pussy.

“FUCK, TREVOR!”

Beads of sweat trickled down his sideburns and chest hair as he began wavering his hips with rapid pace. You could hear him neglect his wheezes, his face growing red and veiny since he only focused on ruining you from the inside out.

“Oh, OH! I’M GONNA CUM!” Repeatedly, obnoxiously; your self-respect had vanished. In moments of heat, your nails were scrawling his shoulder blades like a tigress. The growing climax was torture to your lower stomach that ached with edging release.

Small whimpers left his throat as he overworked his lanky body into pleasing yours. Trevor had his eyes squeezed closed. He shrieked out your name, cum ejaculating from his penis while he maintained the same pace into fucking your small cunt. The hard-labour through his orgasm had made him sloppy, but passionate.

“Fuck, fuck… [y/n], God!”

“Trevor… Trevor, TREVO – “

He gasped momentarily and collapsed onto your bare stomach as you squirted, the running white cum feeding out of your pussy and onto the bedsheets underneath you. There were streams of tears staining your cheeks with great accomplishment. This was definitely the most erotic orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

It left you speechless and paralyzed.

“Oh, fuck me!” Trevor wheezed and graved his face between your tits again, giving it more love, “Shit… Baby, I love you. God damn, my fuckin’… Ah…” His cock, limb and cold, shook off some more leftover cum before he whined out your name again.

His bed stopped squeaking at your bouncing and the unfamiliar silence filled the room. It was left smelling of hardcore sex and humid sweat.

“I love you…” He repeated quietly. His meek, bashful voice was the product of senseless fucking. Trevor’s eyes barely held it together as he peered over at your wearied smile.

“That was good.” You praised.

He shyly hid into your stomach, his lips pressing timid kisses around your tummy. You could recognise his sheepish mood.

“Trevor… C’mon, you were good.”

“Mhm…”

“Look at me, baby.”

He looked up at you with worn-out eyes.

“I love you.” You’d softly say.

His rugged wrinkles creased as he grinned insidiously. He returned his attention to your stomach and continued pecking the skin every now and then as you both recovered from the intense orgasms. You rested your head against his pillows and stared at the ceiling. You saw stars, twinkling lights. Whatever you saw, it was like a reaction to a drug. You were tripping. The climax had made you merely high out of your mind, a perfect getaway from any source of worries.

[ohforficsakelibrary]

The Margay: Chapter 2

Not So Much 'Squeezing' as 'Crushing'

prev / series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: Santi ropes Frankie into a trial-run mission that doesn't go to plan but comes with a hell of a consolation prize.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC

Word Count: 3K

Rating: Explicit 18+ (language in this part) / Minors DNI

Warnings: Choking (not the fun kind)

A/N: No smut this time kids, but had to lay the framework for these guys. Chapter 3 though. You'll want to stick around for Chapter 3.

“Santiago, this isn’t your phone.”

His blood runs cold.

“Garcia, I’m giving you ten seconds to put the woman you got this phone from on the line because if you did anything other than fuck her tonight, I will be opening a package tomorrow with your head in it.”

Santi is a leaden weight when he starts to move, a tremor through his fingers when he taps her on the shoulder.

“I think you need to take that.”

She’d tell whoever’s on the line to go to hell if Santiago didn’t look like he was about to be sick. Not in the my wife just caught me cheating way.

In the I may have just severely fucked up way.

She braces a hand on Frankie’s shoulder and climbs from the bed, his fingers dragging off of her hips as she moves out of his reach. Fish falls back into the sheets as he swipes a hand down his face and presses a palm against his cock, adjusting where it digs into the open teeth of his zipper.

“Yes?” 

“Well, I hope he bought you dinner first, Audrey.”

“You’re not my dad, Davis you don’t get a say.” She quips before the realization hits her.

“Why did you pick up this phone?” This to Santiago.

“Because my contact’s number showed up and I figured he was returning my call.”

Catfish is extremely hard and extremely fucking lost.

“Davis, I’m putting you on speaker," her brow arches, "I think you owe these boys and I an explanation.”

“BoyssS?” Rings out into the room as she does it, tossing the phone onto the bedspread beside Frankie's thigh.

“What I do off the clock has never been your business, Davis. What the fuck is going on here.” She’s started pulling her shorts back on and Santiago reaches for the nearest shirt, never mind that it’s Frankie’s.

“I guess you’re all acquainted already, but I’ll make the formal introductions. Santiago Garcia this is Audrey Goddard. And am I to understand Francisco Morales is also present?”

“Ye, uh, yes, sir.” Frankie’s up now, clearing the want from his throat as he zips up his jeans. He keeps a palm pressed into the denim because it just won’t go away.

“Audrey, Santiago and Francisco were the primaries on Marquez today. Boys, Audrey was your backup, and she took him out.”

“I didn’t call you in," Santi growls.

“You were fourteen minutes late and he was getting jumpy.”

“Santiago, listen we like you and your partner. Your prep was good, you’re good at the terrain, and frankly, you blend in. You’re a good fit for our work down there and you would have had this if your men hadn’t made you late. That’s why we still paid you.”

Santi is staring straight ahead, jaw ticking where it’s clenched. Audrey’s eyes are on Frankie though, a stone propped in the corner, crossed at the arms and ankles in Santiago’s dark blue shirt.

 It’s just a hair too small in the shoulders.

He’s horny and pissed, but he hides both well.

“I was going to convey all of this to you in the morning, Santiago, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

It’s really not.

“We want you to cut the local police loose,” Davis continues. “They’re too lax with their timelines and too likely to slip up elsewhere. That’s not an acceptable risk if you’re going to continue working for us.”

She notes the quirk in Frankie’s eyebrow.

“In return, we’ll pair you with Audrey on anything she accepts that might need extra hands. She’s worked for us in this region for nearly two decades, has a network of solid contacts, and she can get you whatever you need. She’s one of our best.”

Frankie’s mouth quirks now.

The offer hangs in silence.

“If that’s what you all want, of course. Aud, I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to run this by you first. That was why I called.”

“I need to talk it over with my partner.” Tension has turned Santi to steel, knuckles white against the edge of the chest of drawers.

“Of course. This offer will stay open for 24 hours, at which time you can both walk away free and clear if you choose.”

“I’ll call you then either way.”

“Hey, Aud, you still there?”

“Yeah.”

“I have authorization for you to share your resume with these boys. Past and present, if they’re interested.”

Her turn to quirk an eyebrow.

“Well,” Davis lets out a sigh having set the table, “I’ll leave you three to it. Santiago, I will expect your call at this time tomorrow. Sorry for the ah, interruption.”

“Davis, I’ll call you shortly.” This from Audrey.

“Sounds good Aud. Gentlemen. Enjoy your evening.”

The line goes dead.

Audrey stares at Santi staring back at her.

And then Frankie lights them both up.

“Who did you put us in bed with, Santiago?”

“I thought you wanted steady work, Fish.”

“I’d like to know who the fuck for.”

“I think you two need to talk,” she turns to give them the room.

“Oh you’re not going fucking anywhere, babe.” Frankie snarls from the corner. He still hasn’t moved an inch.

It sends a prickle of defiance up her spine.

Ten years ago she would have told him speak to me like that again and I’ll feed you your own balls.

She’s calmed down a little. But lost none of her edge.

Her voice is low when she speaks again.

“You both have ten minutes to ask me what you want about what just happened and then I’m walking out of this room if I have to put a bullet in both of you to do it.”

Only a little.

“Sit down.” Frankie growls.

“No.”

“Who do you work for.”

He’s in her space now.

“I think that’s a question for your friend.”

“I didn’t ask him, I asked you.”

“The United States government, Fish.” Santi answers anyway, arms crossed against his chest.

Frankie glances to his left and Pope rakes a hand through his curls before continuing.

“Davis runs a branch of the government that technically, on paper, doesn’t exist. It doesn’t have a name. No Congressional funding. They train their own people, require five good years out of them and then they’re free to leave if they make it that long. Most go on to work in the private sector, but some stay.”

“Davis said ‘nearly two decades.’” Fish is still staring at Pope, but his shoulders are squared in Audrey’s direction, arms still crossed in front of his chest.

“I formally left after fifteen, but I still contract. Their resources and intel are unsurpassed and they pay well, but I have the freedom to say ‘no’ now.”

“They pay very fucking well, Fish.”

“Resume, ‘past and present.’” Frankie drills looking back to her now.

“That would take longer than the 8 minutes you have left,” she truly cannot help herself, “but I’ve kept tabs on the drug trade in the Caribbean and parts of Central and South America my entire career. My first job was Honduras in ’99.”

Fish’s periphery allows him to catch the way Pope’s eyebrows kick up as he prompts, “and Guatemala a year later?”

“Yes.”

“That was good work,” Santiago idly rubs his fingers over his jaw.

“It may also be of interest to you that a few years back I spent a decent amount of time lining up Gabriel Martin Lorea.”

There’s no heat or innuendo to her voice, and yet it drops like a bomb.

“And why would we be interested to know that?” Fish finds his feet first.

“Because I was put on a plane down from Costa Rica as damage control after someone botched that all to hell.”

Catfish has her by the neck now, smashed between him and a too-thin hotel wall before Pope can even move to catch him.

He’s not so much squeezing as he is crushing.

The human body’s first instinct is to claw at the thing blocking its airway. To flail and thrash. Divorce itself from the obstruction. Frankie has seen it enough from both angles.

Although he’s seen it from the angle where you watch light leave more often than not.

The human body’s first instinct is not to stare straight back into the eyes of your attacker as you press a knife into the crevice of their upper thigh.

She’s seen it too.

Hard brown bores into green that won’t give and he feels that press get a little sharper.

Her other hand is wrapped high around the back of his head. A sharp tug and she could still crack his nose against her skull.

Which would be a shame.

“Okay, Franciso, hermano, por favor, just, just let her go.” Santi soothes from where he’s jumped to stand near them, arms outstretched. He knows better than to actually touch Frankie when he’s like this. Not unless he fully flips. His control’s on the head of a pin and Pope doesn’t want to be the one to tip him over.

Frankie’s rage could fuck this whole thing up before it has even started.

“Francisco,” Santi whispers again.

Frankie lets her go with a snarl before storming to the other side of the room, putting as much space between them as he physically can. Audrey coughs twice, gasping, head craned up towards the ceiling to help open her airway. 

She holds up a hand when Santi moves to see if he can help although he’s not sure what he’d do.

“I’m fine,” she croaks, hands on her knees, a nasty curved blade still clutched in her fist, “it’s fine.” Audrey straightens against the wall before she whispers, “you’ve got 5 more minutes.”

“Okay,” Santi takes a step back to lean against the chest of drawers, “so you know about Lorea.” Santiago has placed himself somewhere between the two of them. Somewhere he could catch Frankie. Or her.

“I cleaned up Lorea.” She rasps and sucks in a few breaths before continuing. “The house wasn’t burned thoroughly enough the first time for them to buy whatever you were trying to sell.” Her voice has a harsh scrape to it that makes Santi wince as she calmly folds the knife and tucks it back into her pocket. “We finished that part for you. Drew a lot of people out of the woodwork too, so I suppose I should thank you for that.”

“No one ever came after us.” It’s half a thought exhaled on half a breath, but Santi only now realizes why.

"I also know that you lost someone in the aftermath, and for that I am truly sorry.” She swallows hard through the gravel. “I apologize for picking at the wound. My only point is that I’m not new to this world, and you’re not new to me either. But I understand that I’m new to you and that unpredictability is uncomfortable.”

Santi catches movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately steps out, palms to Frankie’s chest.

He doesn’t expect a water bottle to be passed under his arm before Fish returns to darken his corner.

“I’m sorry that our introductions have been less than…elegant. Lorea wasn’t,” he casts a look over his shoulder at the other man staring blankly into the patterns on the bedspread, “he wasn’t our best work.”

“There was enough left when I got there to see you all behind it.” She pauses for a mouthful of water. “There were men in the kitchen, ones that you initially took the time to tie and tape. Someone put bullets in those bodies before setting the house on fire, even in the face of what was functionally an ambush. You did those men a kindness that wasn’t required.” She holds Santiago’s stare. “And the kids were still alive, so...”

“You were principled, if inelegant.” Audrey finishes.

“I think we’ve blown our ten minutes.” Frankie whispers, unable to tell if he says it as a courtesy or because he wants the floor to open up and take him.

“I’ll give you five more.”

“So, you took this guy out today.”

“Completing the job was more important than waiting for you.”

“Where were you.”

“Wildfire watchtower on the national reserve.”

“That’s over a mile and a half from where we were,” Frankie doesn’t look up from the bedspread.

“Two thousand eight hundred and seventy-two meters.”

“So you’re a sniper.” Santi states the obvious.

“That is my specialty.”

“That’s a useful specialty,” he continues.

“Every now and then you still need boots on the ground,” another sip of water before reaching for her phone.

“Good job making it look like El Caucel, too. The men with us were convinced they did it. A good way to throw people off your scent.”

“Yeah, thanks.” She pauses in the hallway to scoop her bag up off the floor and tucks her wallet back into her pocket. 

“You knew who we were when we walked into that bar,” Frankie whispers from the corner. It’s straight acid.

When we propositioned you.

When I did.

“No.” There’s heat in her stare now as she turns. “I never knew who I was backing up. Only generalized mission details. Team of two backed by locals, GPS coordinates of a rendezvous point, 14:00 go time. The only picture I ever had was the mark’s and I don’t stick around after making a shot.”

“But you know who we are.”

“In name only, Francisco.”

He meets her eyes at the sound of his name.

“The Lorea briefing only contained names.” 

He returns to studying the bedspread and she takes it as her cue to leave.

“Boys?” She pauses with her fingers on the door handle.

They both grunt.

“Are we okay?”

Santi looks back at Frankie. Unmoved.

“Yeah. Yeah we’re okay.”

She offers Santi a small smile and she’s gone.

Pope’s chest heaves with a sigh as he turns the deadbolt and scrubs both hands over his face. Frankie hears the other bed groan when Santi collapses face-first into scratchy cotton. He still doesn’t look up.

“Well. I guess there are worse people we could be working with.” He probes, trying to gauge where Frankie’s head is at. He takes the huff from the corner as license to continue. “I mean, you just saw that she’s good. She almost had your balls off.”

“The edge wasn’t facing my balls.” Frankie’s voice is dark. The blade had been nestled centimeters from his femoral artery.

“Well then she almost drained you dry in a different way.”

“I could have killed her, Pope.”

“I wouldn’t have let that happen. She wouldn’t have let that happen. There are a million things she could have done to get you to let go. You were too close, you really think she couldn’t have put her knee in your nuts and had you limping for a week? She held back with you, Frankie.”

“I need you to tell me everything that you knew going into this right now or I walk.”

“You’re free to walk at any time, Fish.” Pope props himself up on his elbows to stare Frankie down. “I want you to know that. I pulled you into this but you don’t owe me a goddamn thing.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that.” Frankie finally meets his stare. “I still wanna hear it.”

Pope flips over on his back, heels of palms screwed into his eyes, and starts from the beginning. Drinks with a buddy who used to work for the organization and wanted to help him out. Put him in contact with Davis. Ran a few small independent things until he recruited Frankie for something bigger.

“Davis told me we’d have backup waiting in the wings if I gave the word. I didn’t ask for more details because I knew we wouldn’t need it.”

“But then your guys were late.”

“My guys are always fuckin late, Fish. They’re locals, they don’t run on Washington D.C. time. I just didn’t expect us to fall that far behind.”

“Then she did the right thing. Stepping in when she did.”

“Yeah, she did. Didn’t need that reminder that El Caucel is still out there, though.”

“You still can’t explain to me what that is,” Frankie’s up now, hands on his hips again, staring down at Santiago.

“Told you I don’t fuckin’ know,” Pope sits up on the bed and rests his elbows on his knees. “All I know is their kills are always the same. High angle shot. High caliber bullet. No one in sight. That’s where the name comes from.”

“Yeah, I can’t figure out what that word means,” Fish scratches at his beard.

“El Caucel, it’s, it’s like a cat. Fuck, what is it called in English…”

“A cat.” Frankie’s brows disappear into his hairline.

“A little fuckin’ jungle cat, lives up in the trees.” He gestures vaguely above his head. “Eats monkeys or some shit. The problem is if we’re doing this, we’re pissing all over their territory. If Davis wants us down here, it’s only a matter of time before we steal a kill.”

He’s torturing the metaphor.

“They operate all over Central and South America. Have for years. If we’re down here, it’s probably a good thing to have that organization’s resources behind us. Because if El Caucel comes after us…” Santi rakes a hand through his hair. “We wouldn’t see it coming. The two of us can’t gather that kind of intel. They’re legends down here. Fuckin’ ghosts, man.”

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot.” Frankie mumbles, picking his cap up from the floor and tossing it on his bed, fingers making urgent work of shirt buttons.

“Yeah, I deserve that. What are you doing, man?”

“Going to apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s generally good practice to apologize for choking a woman without consent.” Santi quips, tracking Fish as he disappears into the bathroom to start the shower because his dick won’t drop it and he can still taste her on his lips. “Especially if we’re stuck working with her.”

A shirtless Frankie peeks around the corner before jamming a thumb behind him towards the door. “Think for a fuckin’ second about what you just told me.”

“A margay. The cat’s called a ‘margay.’”

“Pinche cabron.” Frankie mutters under his breath. “She didn’t mimic El Caucel today.”

It’s stunning that it takes Pope this long sometimes. “She is your fuckin’ margay.”

next

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[separatist-apologist]

Neon In The Nighttime

Summary: It's the end of the word as we know it. A west coast baker and the drummer of a metal band team up in Boston, MA thinking they're one of the last few people left alive after a viral outbreak turns those infected into blood hungry monsters.

Their destination: Los Angeles, California- the last place Lucien's eldest brother was living while gearing up for a presidential run. Lucien is desperate to escape the memories of his past life and what he had to do when his wife, Jes, became infected. Elain wants to try and reclaim the fractured pieces of the life she remembers before everything went to hell.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Read on AO3

Thank you @corcracrow for the moodboard

Elain woke to Lucien stretching his back. 

“You’re getting old,” she teased, listening to the sound of his spine cracking.

“Don’t I know it,” he grumbled, rolling to his back. Lucien sighed, arms folded behind his head as he blinked up at a revolving ceiling fan. “I forgot how nice circulating air is.”

Elain slipped out of bed, pulling the hem of the t-shirt she’d worn down over her thighs. Lucien kept his eyes firm ahead, allowing her to dart to the bathroom. By the time Elain was finished, Lucien was dressed in light wash jeans just a size too small—they hugged his ass and thighs obscenely , made worse by the soft, purple v-neck clinging to his muscular chest. Lucien’s biceps practically bulged from the sleeves, distracting given they were sharing such close quarters.

It was easy to forget just how handsome he was. 

“Tam left some things,” Lucien told her, gesturing to a set of clothes on the bed. “Shorts and a dress, depending on what you’d prefer.”

A sundress. It seemed almost holy to her. Lucien slipped out, mumbling something about giving her privacy and a communal breakfast, but Elain only barely heard him. The fabric was a pretty lilac with pretty yellow and white daisies printed over the fabric. She dressed quickly, buttoning it in the back. Like Lucien’s pants, it was just a little snug against her ribs, but worth it for the skirt that flared out at her hips, halting just above her knees, the cute square neckline and the fluttering sleeves.

Elain twisted the top half of her thick hair off her temples, letting the rest cascade down her back. She felt almost normal. There was a bounce to her step when she met Lucien in the tiny living room, staring into space. He looked up when she came in, and for some reason, Elain couldn’t contain her smile. 

Lucien smiled back, rising to his feet. “Very nice,” he told her in that polite, distant way of his. Elain appreciated that he kept his eyes on her face. It was very pointed, and Elain didn’t hate his attempts to prove that he was her friend and not a creep trying to have sex with her. 

“Hungry?” he asked when she didn’t say anything. She had been admiring him. Embarrassing, she thought to herself as she nodded. Lucien didn’t seem to realize, nor did he notice when they stepped out into an unseasonably warm morning how several heads turned to look at him not with suspicion, but appreciation. Elain supposed after months of seeing the same faces, Lucien’s must be twice as striking.

She had to swallow the bubble of jealousy she felt. He wasn’t hers—he didn’t belong to her or with her. He could do what he liked with whoever he liked. Elain had wondered why Lucien wanted to stay an extra day…maybe he wanted to vent some of his anxiety with someone. 

His arm wrapped around her waist, fingers digging just beneath her ribs as he pulled her closer. Looking up, she saw his jaw set so tight a muscle ticked just beneath his skin. Wisps of auburn hair fluttered over furiously burning russet brown eyes.

“Everything okay?”

“Sure,” he said, forcing the word through gritted teeth. “Just—the way everyone is staring at you—”

“Me?” she squeaked, looking around the courtyard. She supposed some of those faces were turned in her direction but there was nothing there but friendly smiles. 

“Like you’re a piece of meat,” Lucien growled, leading her toward a large, long building made of logs. Lucien pushed open the swinging door and Elain’s legs wobbled at the smell of bacon.

The anger on Lucien’s face evaporated when he scented it, too. The arm around her slid to his side, face slack as he drank it in.

There were far more people than the commune suggested. Seventy at least, though maybe a full hundred bodies mingled through the large, open space. A buffet style meal was set out at the far end of the room, with a line of people scooping hot food onto plates. Behind them, rows of picnic style tables were set up for people to eat and chat. 

With his fingers at the small of her back, Lucien led Elain to the line like a child who’d just realized Santa brought him everything he wanted. Elain couldn’t help the delight she felt. In their time together, she didn’t think she’d ever seen Lucien so happy. Certainly not when he heaped eggs and bacon and sausages on his plate, and not when he realized there were seasoned potatoes, too.

She thought this might be what broke him—what made him dissolve into tears. They chose a table at the far end of the room, anti-social when it might have been nice to talk to new people. While Elain took a sip of coffee, Lucien shoved an entire piece of bacon into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at the first taste.

He groaned so obscenely Elain had to clamp her thighs together, embarrassed he’d elicited that sort of reaction from her. Elain’s mind immediately went back to that small, shared bed and what else might draw such a noise from him. Unaware of the slant of her thoughts, Lucien continued his little groans and whimpers until she couldn’t take it any longer. 

“Lucien,” Elain began, forking her own potatoes carefully, “you still want to leave, right?”

Guilt flooded his expression. Cheeks stuffed with food, he swallowed loudly. “Of course.”

Liar. One hot meal was apparently all it took to derail their plans. Elain could appreciate Lucien’s simple joy, though. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a hot meal or a hot shower or hell, just felt safe.

Maybe it was foolish to leave. Maybe they should stay. It was the allure of the cure that kept Elain from fully talking herself into it. Elain wanted to know for sure that she was safe, and she knew if they stayed here and settled, she’d always wonder. Always worry. She couldn’t kill Lucien—she wouldn’t kill him. 

They could always come back. That was what convinced Elain leaving was still the right thing to do. They could always return if they wanted to and settle down somewhere. Together, even, if that was what he wanted. Though, Elain suspected he’d want to split up, to live on his own.

She’d still get to see him, though. Still get— “Are you going to eat that?”

“Lucien,” she hissed, yanking her plate away from him. “Get a grip.”

He only rose from his chair, returning for more. Lucien demolished enough food to feed them both for a week if they were careful, his groans of pleasure quickly turning to moans of pain. 

“You ate too much,” she said when he pressed a hand against his still flat stomach. 

“It was worth it,” he said, flashing her a rockstar's smile. Elain was momentarily dazzled by it before she remembered this was still Lucien who was still her friend. She’d never seen him so effortlessly happy before.

Elain wasn’t sure she’d ever even seen him smile before that moment. “We’ll leave in the morning,” she told him firmly. Lucien’s grin didn’t dim.

“After breakfast.”

He chuckled when she rolled her eyes, but still whisked the metal plate from in front of her and deposited into a bucket for dishes. It left her alone just long enough for a rather nice looking man to sidle over.

“New?” he asked, blue eyes shining with such obvious interest and hope. Unlike Lucien, this man’s eyes slid down her neck to her exposed collarbone and the breasts peeking from just beneath the fabric. It was been so long since there was anyone to ogle her that Elain had forgotten just how much she disliked it.

“Yes,” she agreed, drawing his attention back to her face. He was older—maybe early forties, his brown hair silver at the temples. A beard graced his face, making him seem more angular.

Handsome too, she supposed. “We just got in last night.”

“I heard,” he said, flashing her a smile. One of his teeth had been viciously chipped and Elain wondered what had happened to cause that. “I was hoping—”

“Hoping what?” Lucien asked, falling beside her close enough their knees touched. He threw a casual arm around Elain’s shoulders, fingers brushing her skin. “I’m Lucien, by the way.”

The stranger's eyes fell on his hand and the ring he still wore before looking back at her. Elain’s own hands were hidden beneath the table, though if she’d pulled them up, he would have seen she didn’t wear one in return.

Lucien was staking a claim right here, right now. Elain wished it didn’t make her stomach as nervous as it did.

“Just that you’ll stay,” the stranger finished lamely. Lucien didn’t smile, his expression one of boredom. This was all a warning—not just to this man, but to anyone who might be interested.

Stay away from her. She’s with me. 

“It was nice meeting you,” he said without ever asking her name, or giving his own. Elain waited until he left to round on Lucien. 

“Do you mind?” she demanded, shoving his arm from her. “You’re freaking everyone out.”

“Good,” he replied, jaw set. “Better they’re freaked out then trying to climb through the window at night.”

“They wouldn’t—”

“You’re right,” Lucien interrupted fiercely. “Because I’ll kill them if they try. Elain, surely you must…you have to know that you’re…” he trailed off, looking at her helplessly.

“That I’m what? Weak? Unable to take care of myself? Because I’ll have you know I took care of myself just fine before you showed up and I would—”

“Beautiful,” he interrupted, his cheeks flaming red. “You’re beautiful, Elain.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

Lucien took a deep breath, clearly trying to figure out how he wanted to word his next sentence. Elain didn’t care what he said so long as thought she was beautiful. It was an absurd thing to care about.

And she did, all the same. 

“I see the way they’ve been looking at you. I know what they’re thinking—what they’d do if they had the chance. I don’t want them thinking you’re unprotected, that’s all.”

Elain dared to put her hand on his knee, squeezing softly. “Thank you, Lucien.”

“Of course,” he replied, looking away from her quickly. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea which was unfortunate.

All Elain had were wrong ideas.

LUCIEN:

He was so utterly fucked. 

Lucien had been the minute Elain had come out in that cute little sundress. He was just barely keeping a lid on his jealousy which had mixed hatefully with his guilt until Lucien was a walking, talking disaster. His only saving grace was that Elain had no idea what was going on. Utterly oblivious to the effect she had on men, Elain bounced her way around the commune, curious about how they ate and how they powered their home.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen her smile as wide or brightly as she did when she saw the sprawling garden of fruit trees and vegetables. She’d reached for his hand, squeezing before following after a woman who explained what they grew and how they sustained things during the winter. 

If it weren’t for the promise of a cure, Lucien thought Elain might ask to stay. He could picture it so easily it made him feel like a traitor. He and Elain, settled in that little cabin. Sharing a bed—sharing a life. 

What would Jes think about you, moving on so quickly? 

Lucien forced himself to imagine looking his wife in the eye and telling her he’d met another woman. That he was falling for someone who wasn’t her. And that every vow he’d made, every promise to love her and only her had been a lie. 

Lucien left Elain in the garden, tracking Tamlin to a patio not far from the mess hall. He lounged in a wooden chair, legs spread in front of him. Lucien joined his old friend, plopping into the chair beside him.

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” he told Tamlin before he could talk himself out of it. “Right after breakfast.”

“I’m disappointed to hear that,” Tamlin admitted with a heavy sigh. “But I figured. She wants to track down that cure, huh?”

“So do I,” Lucien admitted. He was too afraid a day would come when Elain might become sick and he’d have to hold her down and kill her. Just like before. No goodbyes, no burials. Just Lucien and his guilt. 

“Well, you’ve always got a place here if you want it,” Tamlin told him, running a hand through his shoulder length blonde hair. “Can I give you a piece of advice, though?”

Lucien nodded. “Of course.” “You can’t trust any of the Archeron’s,” Tamlin told him, dropping his voice. Lucien looked over at his friend, eyes wide.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Both of her sisters have come through here,” Tamlin murmured, green eyes fierce. “If she’s anything like either of them—”

“She thinks they’re dead,” Lucien interrupted. “You saw them?”

“Months ago,” Tamlin agreed. “And you can’t trust them, Lucien. If you find them, you need to be on your guard.”

“Tell me what happened,” Lucien demanded. Elain could be trusted—he knew that like he knew himself. And whatever had happened between Tamlin and her sisters, well…he intended to reserve judgment until he knew more. 

Tamlin took a long, hard look at Lucien. “Are you in love with her?”

“No!” Lucien replied, though it felt like betrayal to say so. 

“Let her go without you, then. Tell her that her sisters were alive about ten months ago and let her go. Stay here—before she could destroy you.”

Lucien was shaking his head even as Tamlin urged him to stay. “Tell me what happened.”

“Her sister—Feyre. I…” Tamlin set his jaw. “Just be careful, if you’re going to stay with her. Don’t fall in love with her. Think of Jes.”

“Don’t put that cryptic shit on me. Elain has saved my life more than once. Tell me what fucking happened with Feyre or don’t say anything at all.”

“She’s a liar,” Tamlin hissed, his anger getting the best of him. “A fucking traitor, too. Burned this place to the ground when she left which opened us up to attack and theft…people died. She told me—”

Oh. Lucien could see it plain enough on Tamlin’s face. How stupid, that he hadn’t recognized it. She’d told Tamlin she loved him, and whatever had happened had soured so badly, it had left everyone in ruin. Lucien wanted to offer Tamlin sympathy, but that had been how all his relationships ended. Usually it was metaphorical flames, but Lucien wasn’t entirely surprised that someone had finally taken it too far. 

“Just. You can’t trust them.”

“And yet, you let her in,” Lucien reminded his friend. “Are we both welcome back? Or just me?”

Tamlin set his jaw. “You’re always welcome. And if that means she comes, too…I won’t turn her away.”

“Those early days during the pandemic were wild, Tam. You know—”

“I don’t.”

And neither did Lucien. Tamlin wasn’t going to tell him and Lucien wasn’t going to pry. He didn’t want to leave things like this, so Lucien offered a strained smile. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He wouldn’t, though. Whatever had gone down, whatever Tamlin had against Feyre had nothing to do with Elain. And as he made his way back to her, Lucien knew he’d choose her over everything, everyone. He could have stayed, could have given her the keys to the truck and wished her nothing but good luck. He could stay with Tamlin, have the small, slow life he was suddenly aching for. 

Because he wanted it with her. Lucien didn’t know how he’d gotten here, nor did he know how to untangle the way he felt about Elain from the way he felt about this new world in general. Jes was behind him, watching and no matter what, she was never coming back to him. He knew that, logically. Just as he knew Elain was waiting ahead, with that easy smile and a hand held out to keep him from slipping. He’d been drowning before he met her.

Life had been one long, endlessly night but Elain illuminated the dark until Lucien felt like daylight, too. 

Lucien didn’t care if no one else could trust her. Hell, he thought he preferred it that way—it meant she’d stay his, that everyone else would keep their distance. The only thing Lucien couldn’t figure out was how to integrate all of this into his life. How to forge ahead, to rebuild. Even when he found her in that garden, buried up to her wrists in soil with a smudge of dirt on her cheek. He wanted her—he wouldn’t lose her.

And he wasn’t sure he could have her. Didn’t know how to absolve himself of Jes or even tell Elain at all. She stood, smiling a smile Lucien had never seen grace her face. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Lucien shoved away the guilt he felt because he’d once that the same about Jes, too. Once sworn no one could compare.

But Elain…he held his breath as she came to him, dirt caked under her nails. “Are we still leaving in the morning?” “Yes,” he said, reaching for her hand to lead her away from nosy ears. “Maybe before breakfast.”

“No bacon?” she teased, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. Lucien sighed.

“Maybe not. Come here.”

He led her back to their cabin, pulling her inside where he could guarantee no one was listening. “Look,” he said, reaching for her shoulders. Not because he needed her to focus, but because he wanted to touch her. Selfishly, Lucien was desperate for contact and knew if she’d reciprocated any of it, he’d have frozen like a teenage virgin. “Tamlin told me something and I think the sooner we get out of here, the better.”

Elain’s smile faded. “What did he say?”

Lucien hesitated. He could keep it to himself. Could let her continue to believe her sisters were dead—that they hadn’t survived. And Lucien had sworn to himself he’d be honest with her. “Feyre came through here. And your other sister—”

“Nesta?”

Elain pulled out of his grasp, blinking rapidly. “They’re alive?”

“They were,” he murmured. “Feyre lived here for a while…her and Tamlin had a thing.”

“I need to talk to him—”

“No,” Lucien caught her before she could rush out the door, holding her tight in his arms. “Tamlin hates her. He…he warned me not to trust you. He said Feyre burned this place to the ground. We could leave in the morning, or…”

Elain looked up at him, lips trembling. Fuck, he didn’t want to see her cry. “Or?” she whispered.

“Or we leave right fucking now. Fuck that bed and a hot breakfast. Let's just go, keep heading west until we find that cure.”

Elain looked down at him, hands pressed against his chest. “Do you still trust me?”

“With my life,” he agreed. “Do you trust me?”

Her eyes found his. “I do.”

That’s all he needed. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s go,” she agreed, pulling from the embrace to shake out her hands. But Elain didn’t move, her pretty lips pulled in the saddest frown Lucien had ever seen.

“What is it, Elain?”

She blinked away, eyes glassy. “Do you think…do you think they just gave up on me?”

“If they did, they’re stupid,” Lucien insisted fiercely. “But Elain…is it possible they were looking for you, too? Maybe your sisters assumed you’d head west and went that way, too.” Elain pressed her fingers to her lips as if trying to keep a sob from escaping. “We’ll find them,” Lucien promised. “We’ll get that cure, and then we’ll track them down. We have nothing but time now, Elain. What’s stopping us?”

“Do you promise?”

Lucien went to her again. Cupping her cheek, Lucien nodded his head. “I promise.”

[midori-laboratories]

Frozen Ashes: Chapter 7 - Blood in the Water I

Book 3 of The Calendula Chronicles.

Story synopsis: Albert Wesker molded his captive into the perfect, pliable bait for taking out Rockfort Island's paramilitary facility, and cracking open the Ashford family’s secrets. But who’s really in control, once chaos breaks out?

The stakes have never been higher for Marigold, but she may not be fast enough to save everyone.

Book 3 of the Calendula Chronicles series. Written as the other side of The Antarctica Incident.

Chapter summary:

Wesker arrives to see what the problem is, and Marigold sets the wheels in motion.

Check out Paper Tigers: 1981 to get a little extra context for what's going down here.

The gate was locked. The gate was always locked. Had always been. If Marigold focused hard on the moment, it was like nothing had changed since the summer of 1981, the last time she had walked through this door. For her, that had been less than a year ago.

But staring at a locked, highly climbable gate wouldn’t make that true, and the clock was ticking. If she was right, Alfred’s failure to wildly manifest within range would set off a backup plan.

She would be collected. And then she would be driven further into the trap. The soldiers had seen enough to be afraid of doing so themselves- it was the lab techs all over again, poor little muppets - so Wesker would have to take matters into his own hands. A cold coil of anger settled in her stomach, and she held onto it like floating debris in a shipwrecked sea.

Marigold hauled herself up through the gap at the top of the gate. It almost invited a decently fit person to sneak in, which was likely the point. Dropping down, she turned - just in time to see a small light power up above the sign just inside the gate, attached to a smooth steel wall.

Alfred was keeping an eye on her, it seemed. She glanced around and located a camera above the gate, point inward at the finish line. There were a few others bordering the test area and pointing towards the gate itself, but this one she looked into, and nodded.

She stepped toward the sign, stamped with the same rules she’d come up for the Matilda all those years ago:

TESTING SITE:

Test is pass/fail to finish the course. Time to finish is recorded for posterity.

Candidate must complete 6 stations.

Candidates MAY use shortcuts to shave time off of their final score.

Shortcuts pass through color-coded points designated to each station: blue, white, red, yellow, green, pink.

Any new shortcut reached by a candidate may be approved by testing officer and marked on the course.

The sign was rustier than she remembered, but it was the same one- and missing a bolt at one corner. She reached over and pried back the aluminium sign with her hand, bending it to reveal a small cubby hole.

Just large enough for the five injectors inside, tightly wrapped in layers of plastic against the elements. Epipens had only just been licensed around that time, though she imagined that they’d have become more ubiquitous in her absence. Scott Harman had found a nice, dry emergency spot and wrapped five doses in saran wrap to tuck into an emergency hiding spot. “They’ll last for years so long as they stay dry,” he’d laughed.

She unwrapped one and popped the cap off, jamming it into her thigh. The effect was immediate; the medication might be old, but Alexander had specially formulated it for times when she had strained herself on this particular contraption, and required an immediate cooldown.

The situation here wasn’t quite the same, but it lifted the fog in a more consistent way than adrenaline had been doing for her before. She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled to the camera, putting a finger to her lips. She bent the corner of the sign back down, just enough to obscure the little stash. She’d want to return here later.

The crows above had begun to settle around the yard, watching silently. At the starting line, she spotted a new feature- a pressure plate. On the far wall by the finish line, a digital scoreboard had been mounted. It was currently dark.

She looked back to the first camera, signing Alfred, can you read me?

The light above the sign dimmed, then flashed once.

Marigold smiled, and signed, Good. She glanced over by the little wall that had been installed for her sake. Even now, the damage she had done to it all those years ago, the impacts, were still visible.

The idea that had germinated in a shitty little car on the edge of Raccoon City could have real viability after all. And, without the medication suppressing her baser instincts, she’d be running it with at full capacity for the first time.

Marigold turned back to the camera and began signing rapidly, her movements growing steady and confident. The light would flash intermittently, a sign that the instruction, or point of the plan, was understood.

Finally, after a few moments, she turned on her heel towards the low wall and began to drag items from the pile beneath the scoreboard.

----------

The crows were a peculiarity, Wesker thought as he moved with purpose to the last position Marigold’s tracking signal had reported back.

Marigold had been wandering into an infested area rich with security cameras, not particularly mindful of being seen. The picture it would have painted for Alfred would have been perfect, even if the hood never came off. Something was coming for him, and he would be driven in his mania to engage with it. They would have been able to secure the man. He wouldn’t be ready to give up information easily, not immediately, but everyone had their breaking point…a fact that his aunt seemed to have been keenly aware of, and intent on avoiding, in her dealings since her secret had been revealed.

Alfred had not emerged, and the crows were massing toward a walled-in testing ground on the edge of the military training ground. Marigold did not seem to be in any particular distress, but she had gone in that direction herself, and had remained in the area.

That training ground was what the USS had dubbed the Matilda. At the end of the Raccoon City excursion, Marigold had used her knowledge of that particular course to coax the ex-USS escort out of his cover position in order to take out the surveillance cameras so that she might freely remove the pack of hunters which had zeroed in on their position.

The crows had picked up the T-Virus infection from eating carrion, but the swarms were maintaining cohesion much longer than what had been observed in the lab, and in Raccoon City. He filed the thought away like an unexpected, yet minor observation in a laboratory experiment - something to return to, and pull apart later.

The fox had gone to ground, and he’d have to extract her in order to ensure Alfred got the message. A stronger message, this time. Alfred was likely the kind of idiot to play white knight in the right circumstances.

The gate was locked, but any soldier worth their salt would have a laughably easy time scaling it. Wesker didn’t bother to break the lock. A few lights were on. This yard, with the very little upkeep it clearly had, seemed to run on some independent power source from the military facility. A generator? Whatever it was, it was older than the facility itself.

He glanced around to take in the space. Another camera-rich environment. Sparsely lit, though that was more than enough for him to see the twisted landscape of metal arranged in an obstacle course designed to mangle as much as measure performance. The Umbrella board had officially voted to decommission the use of the Matilda three years earlier as an official test; they’d had too many people wash out. Had they continued to allow recruits into the field a little more bloodied, perhaps Raccoon City’s recovery operations might have gone a little smoother. Veterans like HUNK and Zinoviev had cut their teeth on this, after all.

There was a set of rules posted under a light by the gate, and the steel girders were dotted with the six colours of the various stations to clear. These must have been the skip points. If what Bradley had said in the van was true, it was a rare few that managed to cut their time using even one of these, in a quest for glory.

Which meant that most of these skip points had been set by Marigold herself. The little training range behind the manor in Devon hadn’t even begun to tell the full story.

The woman in question was standing over by a low wall installed twenty feet past the Matilda’s finish line. She seemed to be inspecting something on it. Something had impacted the bricks hard over time, and more than once. A few bricks had been locked loose from about three feet from the ground, and Marigold was looking at the crevasse in some fascination. She turned and looked up at the Matilda.

There’s something up there, she said in a distant tone - the patches were still holding firm, but she was beginning to work out the game then. A pity.

Wesker stepped towards her, slowly. “You know this place?” He said out loud. Marigold didn’t answer, only looked to the wall again where two of the crows had settled in. For infected, they were shockingly docile. Marigold drifted a little closer to them, and they hopped closer to inspect the strange human just below. The smaller of the pair actually hopped down onto her arm. “Pretty bird?” It croaked out slowly, looking expectant.

“That’s true,” Marigold solemnly agreed. The far-away quality of her voice, and the ethereal strangeness of the tableau gave the scene the cast of a dark fairytale. Wesker considered, then: “They spotted your niece down on the other side of the island. Do you not-“

My niece is dead. Everyone knows that, she responded sharply, and it took some work for him not to wince. The crow took flight to the top of the wall again, a safe distance. She glanced down at the wall again looking suddenly nervous. Not…there’s something here. She started backing away from the wall as if it had stung her. I need to check. I need a minute. Don’t follow.

She backed past Wesker- he’d stopped his advance just then- and spun on her heel to sprint towards the start point in the track. Her foot came down on a steel plate at the start line and she was sprinting down the track towards the first station, a climbing wall within a nest of barbed wire and welded rebar.

He didn’t get a chance to follow her path visually. As she had sprung off the plate, it had activated several bright lights around the finish line, which he had been facing. This time he flinched back and put an arm over his eyes, taking several seconds to allow his eyes to adjust. When he could see again, he spotted a digital scoreboard on the back wall, keeping time on the current run and listing the most recent, and the top five scores. No names were attached to these. Presumably, word got around when someone managed a particularly impressive time.

The hormones and exposure had been suppressing her higher functions of late, leading to something once of the executives had dubbed ‘Hunter mode.’ If this place triggered some deep instinct, he’d have to ride it out. The top time- the one Bradley had been so put out about- was displayed on the board in glowing red numbers: 2:05. The closest humanly-achieved one (probably HUNK) was 3:14.

Wesker didn’t realize he’d drifted forward until a croak came very near his left ear. “Birrrrd?” The same crow questioned him, hopeful. It made no move to attack, although the lights had caused a strangle fluttering sound all around him, suggesting that he had not been the only one startled in the dark. He’d heard flocks would mimic the speech of humans known to be a source of food sometimes. The speech had a slight rhotic burr to it that Marigold sometimes allowed to slip out of her upper-class Received Pronunciation accent. Had the exposure allowed them to retain old memories?

The timer read forty-six seconds - he’d have another moment to investigate before she returned. It was another variable, another piece of the puzzle when it came to just what Marigold had been doing within the company in those thirteen years of flying under the radar.

Something was sticking out of the small hole in the wall.

Wesker bent to take a look, eyeing the birds above warily. there were four of them now, curious but still calm. Critical mass, a small alarmed voice warned at the back of his mind. He pushed the thought away - he still had a bit over a minute to deal with what came next - and reached to fish out what appeared to be an early modified epinephrine injector, the kind injected into the thigh in the event of an allergic reaction. The label shed a bit more light - it was a derivative of some common serum, but with a twist- the words asteraecae s. rosaceae were printed below, was appended to the end of the title, suggesting a component derived from one or several common flowers.

Or it would if he weren’t aware that Progenitor originated from a plant in the common Asteraceae family. Marigold had mentioned roses earlier, in that half-aware state. There was a puzzle here to unravel.

On either side of Albert Wesker, going from the wall to the finish line, long pieces of construction rebar had been driven into the sand, and scattered to either side of the path. A soft veil settled over his perception, drawing his eye to the puzzle left out for him, and occasionally to the seconds slipping away on the board beside him.

Behind him, additional lights had begun to power on. Had he turned at that moment, his dark-adapted vision would have had difficulty picking any detail of his surroundings beyond those lights for several minutes. Certainly, he’d have difficulty picking the dozens, perhaps hundreds of gleaming eyes watching silently, perched on the metal detritus around the yard.

The swarm had fully arrived, and only awaited a trigger. The timer read 1:34, and ticked quietly on.

----------

High above, Marigold - the gleam of her own eyes easily obscured by those of the crows, began to straighten from a crouch upon a steel girder. She reached a hand out to touch the faded pink paint of the last skip point she’d locked in on this course.

One last run. She’d have to make it count.

It was time to finish this.

[luveline]

” just… two friends, casually holding hands. ” with eddie? <3

weed ment ♡

"Listen to me, Eddie," you plead in a murmur, dropping your head into his shoulder. 

The TV almost obscures his answer, equally hushed. "I'm listening." 

"You're not. You're watching TV." 

"I can do both. I'm a good multitasker." 

You're not, you think pointedly. You're only trying to make your point – if you stay here for dinner tonight you won't have to spend the extra cash, and with the exrra cash you can get pot. 

Eddie had laughed at your suggestion. What's the point in getting high if we can't get burgers, too? 

He kind of has a point. Maybe. You sigh, the woes of your small town life, and rub your face into his naked shoulder, the loose threads of the cut off sleeve tickling your skin. His hand lays face up on his thigh, his watch tick-tick-ticking. You run your fingertips down his arm slowly, bored and hungry. Over fine hairs and a tiny pinprick mole, you flick your nail against the strap of his watch, skip it, press your fingers to his palm. 

He has a long loveline. You trace it carefully before hooking your left arm under his and pulling his hand towards you, analysing his palm in the dim lighting. You draw it close to your face and Eddie grumbles about being pulled around. 

You rub your thumb over a scar. "How'd you get this one?" 

"That? You ever drop a glass and try catch it? It was already broken when I reached for it." 

"Did it hurt?" 

"Sure. Two stitches." 

You wince and rub it again, the scar tissue a small white ridge. Eddie watches you. You're too tired to think as you push your fingers through his though you feel warm when his hand reacts, his fingers pressing down tight in the space between yours, squeezing over your knuckles. His thumb rubs over the back of yours. 

"What are you doing?" he asks curiously, words sticky with fondness.

"Nothing," you say, eyebrows furrowing. 

"Right. Just… two friends…casually holding hands." 

"Best friends," you correct. 

Eddie huffs. "Best friends," he agrees, pulling your joined hands to his stomach. He rubs your forearm with his free hand, skin shushing over skin, the two of you kissed by LCD light and the cool breeze of a summer night. 

[algesalges]

Vers Moi: Part 9

Chamber x fem!reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (18+)

Mwhahahaha I have been gone but I have returned

Warnings: Choking, hitting, consent and protection (NEEDED USE IT), penetration, oral (fem recieving), bad grammar, pls dm me if need any more warnings and pls ENJOY

Intro, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Brim has become more tense, and so has your relationship. Though they were different kinds of tensions, yours being that you have not been able to get any alone time with Vincent, and Brim's being tense because something has risen. He was more grumpy and loaded you with more paperwork. He seems to be trying to get everything out of the way, but you could never figure out what it was that bothered him so much. 

Even after you are done, your work Chamber has left to receive the package for the protocol. What was it? You have no idea. When he was about to leave he kissed you in a hurry outside the jett, said he would return and bring you a souvenir. 

You weren't allowed to know where he was heading, but it related to his own personal work.

It's been about a week since there were no messages or updates. Brim and Cypher were the only ones aware of his doings, but asking them would be very out of the blue. The loneliness started to etch. You felt abandoned, even knowing he was just at work. The no messaging policy from the protocol while on missions ticked you off. The only ones able to communicate with agents are the others assigned to the mission. You were not part of that objective.

He must've gone somewhere far from headquarters, or there must've been a quarl getting the package. Maybe the mission went wrong and he needed to relocate. 

Single person missions aren't difficult. Just asking for maybe some extra safety. 

It became late; all the lights were off except for your little desk lamp. You plopped the last folder on the stack and stretched your back. Another day has passed with no victory. You headed to the dining area to earn yourself your favourite snack. while rummaging through the cupboard. Killjoy came around, heading to the coffee machine.

You tilt your head, knowing that this was not Kj's first or last cup; what is she doing?

"Kj, you're going to regret that."

I know, I know, I know y/n, but I must finish this"!

You walk by Kj, who is eyeing the coffee as it pours out of the machine.

"So, what are you working on?"

She snickered, "Well you, boyfrie-"

You shut Kj's mouth, before coming back to sanity and waving yourself off, "boyfriend whatttttt"

Kj elbowed you, "Chamber works in the lab along with me and Raze. I've seen you two sneaking around."

Your face flushed with embarrassment.

“Don't worry, but anyway, he gave me some blueprints. Call it my next biggest project."

She explained that it is a teleporter, but it allows you to walk through rifts like Yoru.

You were amazed, but how did Chamber even get those blueprints?

You went to bed after finishing your snack and bantering with KJ. The night seemed long; you only wished Vincent would return tomorrow, knowing full well that this might not be the case.You showered and changed into a shirt Chamber had given you a while ago, which still had his scent on it.You wanted to feel him close, like that night before. You just need me all to yourself for a moment. You have never missed someone so much. You wonder if he feels the same way you do. 

Night started to creep in, and your eyes were heavy with sleep, but the discomfort between your thighs bothered you enough to keep awake. You shut your eyes, hoping your body would cool off on its own. The room was dark. You heard rustling outside your room, people walking past having conversations. You wondered if they would mind moving to another door so you could sleep. You roll away from the door, thumping onto your side, covering your ear with a pillow. 

A quick motion of someone grabbing your ankles spewed you awake. You struggled to remove the covers from your face, balancing on both of  your elbows, you noticed a snide, familiar smirk looking down on you. Before even saying hello, his lips smashed into you. He breathed heavily, as if he had emerged from water. His arms were wrapped around your torso, his hands grabbing at any flesh he could crawl into. 

You pulled him away by his hair to earn yourself some air. He let out a hungry growl and tore away from you. 

"I missed you, it was cruel being kept from you" he hisses out.

Before exchanging words, you were pulled over his shoulder to be plopped down in the centre of the bed, placing his lips back onto yours. You moaned as he fondled your right breast. He never let you go.

He removed himself from you, "Are you alright if we continue"?

You nodded engly. He removed his neck tie with his vest and blouse, granting you access to his bare skin. The golden rays shone from the moonlight, accentuating his chiselled body. You always admired how low the rays would go, all the way down to his legs, right onto his love handles. You always blushed at the image. Now seeing it again in person heated your core. 

He took the band of your bottoms, slipping them off you. You removed your shirt to reveal your hardened buds. He latched onto them immediately, sucking them on. He nipped and bit. You tried to pull him off of it, but insistence biting instead drove him to go towards your neck, somewhere you weren't quite fond of leaving marks. Chamber didn't care about the consequences at the moment; he'd buy you all the top brands of concealer if he had to; all he needs is to finally have you.

He licked up to your sweet spot, latching onto it. Your body shifted to the sensation. He slithered a digit into your begging core. You winced at the sudden intrusion. Soon later, he adds another, whilst still paying attention to your neck. You shifted your hips onto his fingers, trying to receive more stimulation. Vincent started to perform a scissor motion to release you. He curled his fingers, hitting that certain spot, making your thighs shake from the intensity of the stimulation. 

Before you could reach your peak, he pulled away, leaving you to whine as you watched him remove his boxers. He pumped his member, while ripping a condom wrapper with his teeth, it slid the latex of his shaft then spread your thighs more apart to grant him more access. He first teased the tip of your entrance, then finally swiftly entered. He hissed as your core clenched around his member. Your pupils were dilated, still high from pleasure, "Mon dieu, I could die from this". He planted a kiss on your lips while giving a hard buck touching the tip of your cervix causing you to roll your head giving out a hefty moan. His thrust continues with consistent hitting that spot, your core, his hips slapping deep against your core. Your nails dig into his back with each buck. A knot is starting to form in your lower tummy. Your legs start to ache from being spread leaving room for Vincent to pummel your poor cunny.

“Are you near mon amour? I can feel clenching around me”.

You were to fucked out to respond, which did not please him. You winced from the harsh sting on your breast, his hand clasped around your windpipe. You look up to him with bambi eyes seeing his predator eyes. “I’ll ask you again ma chere”.

You held onto his arm giving him a nod.

“Good girl”. 

His other hand went to pay attention to your pearl. Your hips bucked as the knot grew tighter, you looked up to him, “go ahead my dear, let me feel you”.

Your body follows in command, you convulse, your thighs shake. Chamber seems satisfied with your obedience. 

Vincent slows his pace, you notice he didn’t seem to finish. Instead he flips you around, grabbing your hips leaving your head still laid onto the mattress. He admires his work before latching onto your bud, sucking harshly. You tried to run your hips from the overstimulation, but his arms are wrapped around your thighs as he continues to lap up your fluids. You whine from the intrusion of his tongue. Believe that he does this for his satisfaction as well, his hips rut unknowligy aching for any stimulation, as your sweet taste indulges his appetite. 

You start to feel that painful knot again, you whine from the overstimulation. The ache hurts so much but you want it so bad. Your hips start to bounce onto his trying to get to that breaking point. You spasm from your reach bouncing onto his tongue.

Chamber lifts from your hips giving a bruising spank before leaning into you, sliding back inside. He folds his fingers into yours, swaying his hips into you. His breath, he groans in your ear each time you clench down. Your cheeks filled with tears, your eyes struggle to keep open.  “V-ince-nt”.

He tucks yours hair stuck from your forehead behind your ear. 

“Yes my dear”? “To-o- much, plea-se”

He couldn’t deny your plea, “I understand baby, I’m almost there”.

So were you, that burning sensation started to bubble in your lower abdomen, You gripped onto the sheets listening to Chamber’s breath intensify. You felt him twitch. The knot became too much to bear, your climax was painful yet full of pleasure. You felt Chamber’s thrusts become sloppier, knowing he was close.

One last harsh thrustand the rubber full of cum. You felt warm, finally back in his presence. Vincent rolled over to face you. You caressed his jaw, giving him a small peck,

“Is this how you say hello”?

[hoodiewithhorns]

━  using your safeword scenarios p.2 ★

characters :  koshi sugawara, atsumu miya, kotaro bokuto 

i decided to make this the p.2 and include suga since like 3 ppl asked for him so yeah !!

p.1   + m.sterlist + requests  

(please read the rules before requesting ty.)

▼ cw :  not proof read, f! reader , size kink + not enough prep , spanking, dumbification, degradation, daddy/master kink, dacryphilia,  hurt + comfort, red! used as safeword, authority kink, angst, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI ▲

Sugawara 

- he was always a softie to you

- praising you at everything you did and calling you a goodgirl too <3

- but when you reunited with your friends from highschool they all talked about how their partners would go rough on them bringing you curiosity on the thought of suga being rough with you

- they teased you for having such a soft boyfriend while they went on and on about how you should try it out too.

〜 ☆

- you wondered what would make him tick so you tried being a bit bratty when you got home

- you’d reply with “make me” and he was clueless he’d just go “uhh..okay? can you please sit down?”

- having enough of it he confronted you about it 

he hovered over you on top of the couch, staring into your eyes with worry. “y/n what’s gotten into you today? are you okay honey?” his voice was soft, full of  concern. you sighed avoiding his worrisome gaze at you. you felt bad for making your boyfriend become worry about you. he at first assume you had a bad day with your friends since you never acted so bratty towards him.

you took a deep breath now turning to face him completely, with your face slowly heating up. “its nothing koshi..i just wanted to try something” he titled his head in confusion at your words. “you wanted to try to be a brat to me? why would you wanna do that?” your cheeks now fully red in embarrassment. “n-no i thought maybe you could be a bit more um..rough with me..” he blinked a few times to analyze what you just told him.

i-its fine if you don’t want t-to!” you covered your face with your hands while he sighs in relief glad you weren’t having a bad day. he chuckled, pulling you into his arms to have you seated on his lap. “now what brought this up my love?” he asks kissing your forehead while he roams his hand through your hair. “well.. my friends said they really enjoyed it when their partners were rough with them and i just wanted to try it out so i thought being bratty might you know...make you wanna put me in my place and stuff..” you shyly spoke as you fiddle with your hands, a sign of nervousness he’s picked up from having dating you so long. 

“you sure baby?” his voice now sounding serious. the sad part was you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted this. feeling pressured to do it if you were being honest. you were fine with the way sex with suga was soft, nice and sweet. you did enjoy when he would speed up his thrusts when his high was approaching, but even at that you’d let tears fall at the stretch of him going fast. 

ignoring your uncertainty, you nodded looking him in the eyes. he could tell you were still nervous, but if you were okay about it he couldn’t say no to his princess. he kissed your cheek while getting close to your ear, whispering seductively “well since you were all bratty don’t you think you deserve a bit of punishment?” you looked up at him with clueless eyes, clenching your thighs together at his new tone. 

“um o-okay..koshi-”

“master, let’s go with that alright princess?”

you nodded letting him position you down on his lap, your stomach on his knees and head resting on the couch cushion. “ you know the safeword right darling?” you tried to look up at him, but your movements being limited. 

“yes koshi..”

“koshi?” he questions.

“ah i-i mean master!” you quickly corrected yourself. 

he patted your head smiling at your obedience. “goodgirl..now then” he tugged the waistband of your skirt smirking at your eager wiggle for him to remove them faster still felling uneasy, but full of anticipation  at what suga had in store for you. “now now, be patient you’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment you know?” 

“m’ sorry master..” he slid your skirt down, removing it finally, tossing it to the side of the living room, leaving you with nothing but underwear that was soaked with your juices. he rubbed soothing circles on your asscheek before he placed a mean slap on it. you jumped at the unexpected sting, your eyes starting to water with no tears falling just yet. “such a naughty thing huh?” landing another slap on your ass rubbing it to sooth the pain. the sting feeling good but the words he spoke starting to get you, breaking you down one by one. 

“what happened to my goodgirl huh? she came home so bratty..such a badgirl.” your pupils shrunk at the fact he called you bad. goodgirl was something he’d always call you making you blush and smile but the fact now you were his badgirl set something off in you. 

you wanted to push the feeling off you really did, but the slaps on your ass made you feel hazy and your tears started to fall on the couch. “why so quiet?you sure had a lot to say when you came home. is my badgirl finally gonna take her punishment like she’s supposed too?” slapping your ass once more leaving hand prints on it now that were bound to stay for awhile. 

you didn’t respond, instead you just sobbed in on yourself feeling small and pathetic that the fact he called you a badgirl was enough to make tears stain your cheeks. he froze turning you to face him on his lap. “hey baby you okay?was it too much??” 

“r-red..” finally speaking, he quickly pulled you in his embrace peppering your faces with kisses letting out soft apologies. “why’d you force yourself baby?” he whispers kissing you softly yet full of love.

“i-i’m still your goodgirl... right? i didn’t mean to be bad i promise..i thought i could take it but..” the feeling of guilt starting to take over you.

“but what baby you can say it i won’t get mad, i could never” you rested your head on his shoulder wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“i couldn’t..i like it when you’re soft with me..c-can we do that instead?? please master!”

he smirked at the fact you called him master, it made his cock twitch in his jeans. relief he didn't hurt you, he started kissing down your neck, letting one hand wander up your shirt to play with your hardening nipple. 

“of course. whatever my goodgirl wants. just please never force yourself to do anything ever again till you’re 100% okay with. got it?”

“yes master.”

Atsumu

- this man is kinda like kuroo 

- heavy with his degradation. 

- you didn’t mind ofc!! he’d reassure you he didn't mean what he said with his aftercare

- but tonight, he told you to ride him since you were being extra needy for him.

- he wanted to tease you and not fully give in and help you cum just to mess with you and have you beg.

-and well...he may have mixed in some dumbification.

- lets just say you might have taken some things to heart.

he clicked his tongue disappointed at your attempts to bounce on his cock. it hurt just dropping onto his dick but each time you bounced on it, you could feel the painful drag stretching your walls open making you sob. “come on..that all you got? it’s no fun having a dumb crybaby on my cock.” him calling you dumb catches you off guard, but choosing to ignore it you tried again this time quickening your pace.

he didn’t even let a grunt at the feeling just staring at you with a look of disapproval, already panting in exhaustion. he sighed getting tired of seeing you’re pathetic movements, he pushed you back down to take initiative having his cock still stuffed inside you. you let out a yelp at the unexpected change as he started rutting his hips into you, using your hips as support to hold himself, you moaned gripping his shoulders for support as your eyes rolled back to your head.

“was that so hard? i thought dumb needy sluts would try harder to try and get what they want.” he tutted, ramming into you meaner and harder, his cock grazing the tip of your cervix. you choked out a sob trying to look back at him, starting to not like were this was going.“m’..i was  trying my best daddy..”

“were you though? as always my dumb slut needs her daddy to step in and help her since she can’t do anything right.” the last sentence making your heart stop and everything around you freeze. did he really see you this way? as a dumb needy slut who can’t do anything right? you thought back to all the times you needed his help even beyond sex like when you’d ask him to help you get something that was too high up for you at a store, needed him to walk you home cause you weren’t strong enough to defend yourself. 

all these memories making your head feel dizzy. did he mean it??he never complained he was always happy to help his girlfriend. you started to continuously sob out apologies. your tears being easily mistaken for tears of pleasure, which only turned him on even more. 

“aw.” he faked sympathy for you with a frown, grabbing your chin to look at him. “its okay, daddy will find a use for you. after all the only thing you’re good at is being a dumb cocksleeve for me to pump full.” his eyes were dark when he spoke almost sadistically. the pleasure you were once receiving from him started turning to pain making you scream. 

“no more!! red! red! please atsumu stop!” he pulled out the second you tried pushing him off. 

he took a step-back watching as you slowly breakdown in front of him. he was scared, terrified even at seeing you so hurt you went as far as to use the little strength in you to push him off. 

he got off the bed running to the bathroom to grab a towel to wipe you. he returned sitting at the foot of the bed slowly approaching you with shaky hands. proceeding to wipe your tears away with it, glad you didn’t flinch at him. 

“hey..no more tears it’s okay its okay─i didn’t mean it i swear!” his voice cracked, with his eyes starting to water as well. you flipped yourself over to rest your head on his thigh. “thank god.” he mumbled looking up in relief. he was scared you were mad at him or was mad at him forever. 

the room was silent for a few minutes with only the movements of atsumu playing with your hair telling you over and over again how sorry he was.

“am i really that useless atsu..?” you mumbled, the thought of you calling yourself useless, being drilled into your head by atsumu made his heart sink. he quickly corrects you, pulling you up off his thigh into a tight hug, swinging you back and forth like a toddler. 

“NO! NO! thats untrue! i-i’m so sorry you’re not useless! you a very useful pretty baby that i love more than a-anything so don’t ever say that!” his tears falling down his cheeks hitting your skin. you started to feel your tears come up again too. you didn’t precisely see him cry, but you could tell by his broken tone he was almost as hurt as you. 

you wrapped your arms around him, as he gripped onto you tighter, scared you’d runaway or leave. 

“i’m sorry baby....i promise to never call you those things ever again.” he promised pulling away to look you in the eyes. you smiled making his heart skip a beat. 

“let’s go to sleep okay prettygirl?”

Bokuto

- he can get out of hand

- i wouldn’t say bokuto would be as rough vocally as the previous ones.

- HOWEVER, his cock is something you’ll never get used to

- each time you two did he had to prep you and even then it still hurt.

- you never complained though it was always temporary.

- he came home after a stressful game and only won because of pure luck.

- he was tired and needed to blow off steam immediately

- you being his cute wife was happy to help <3

he sloppily kissed down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt to have a turn at your breasts. you bit your lip to suppress your moans. “come on baby make some noise will ya?” he said removing your shorts completely before sucking at your clit making you wince, your eyes screwed shut at the pleasure. he began to stuff a finger in you feeling you clench around his finger.

“yeah just like that─fuck you’re really wet baby.” he licked his lips at the sight of your wet cunt. removing his finger completely, while running his thumb up and down your folds. he was getting impatient wanting to just ruin you already. he unbuckled his pants removing it quickly not remembering how big he was compared to you. removing his boxers just to let his cock spring free. you opened your eyes to see his tip slowly enter you. 

“w-wait bo! need more p-prep!”

“come on baby your a big girl right? you can take it.” your head fell back into the pillow as tears streamed down your cheeks at the stretch. no matter no many times bokuto fucked you it still hurt. you gripped a chunk of the bed sheets in your fists tightly, holding onto it for your dear life. 

he slowly went in you fully throwing his head back at how your gummy walls clenched around him so tightly. he knew it hurt you but it brought him a lot of pleasure that it did. the fact your tiny little hole would stretch pass its limit just to accumulate his fat cock was almost enough to make him cum right there.

he stilled for a few seconds, only to thrust roughly into you like a man starved of lust. you screamed as his fat cock dragged along your walls at the abnormal pace.  you didn’t know if you could last if you were being honest, it hurt it really did. normally, it would last a few thrusts but this time it lasted way too long for your liking. 

“bo! please s-slow down─ah!” he sped up his paces being too lost in his own pleasure to hear you. “bo!” you screamed still not getting his attention. 

feeling uneasy you let out a yell of the safeword “RED!” he halted his thrusts looking down at your face that was streaming with tears. 

‘oh no oh no i─ baby i’m sorryyyy!” his hair flopping down going into his emo mode. he collapsed on top of you falling on your breasts looking up at you like a wounded puppy. you chuckled and played with his hair while he hugged you tightly. still in you.

“ its okay bo..” you smiled while he got off your breast to cup your face kissing it softly. 

“i’m sorry i didnt realize i was hurting you baby─ do you want me to stop we can stop!-”

“no bo its okay!its okay!” you quickly reassured kissing his cheek falling back on the bed rubbing your remaining tears away.

“just go slow okay? then when i’m fully ‘adjusted’ you can go fast and as rough as you want.”

you whispered making his emo mode fade away and his face light up with glee like he just won a prize.

“r-really? as rough as i want?” he asked making sure, you smiled in response. “yes bo. just start slow okay? i promise.” he nodded placing his hands at your sides to thrust slowly into you. he lowered himself to you and you wrapped your arms and legs around him while he began to kiss you passionately. 

☆〜 

 bokuto’s is really soft he’s a goofball and i love em sm. also never wrote for suga before?? i hope you suga stans liked it tho it was kinda hard to write him since i don’t seem him as the type to degrade his partner he’s just here to please his baby.

i still am taking requests all links are above and down here. remember to drink water. oh and heres the m.sterlist in case you missed it <3♡

[obsessive-ego]

Trust me baby♡

Established musical beetlejuice x reader

Nsft

Reader uses they/them but mentions of a boobs and a vagina

You sleep over at the deetzlands and beej begs you to spend the night in his room

This wasnt the first time you've been asked to babysit lydia and more importantly beetlejuice, yes technically the demon was an adult, but not exactly a responsible one, and yes adam and Barbara could have watched lydia, but beetlejuice? That was a different story, the ghoul did as he pleased and even though he loved the couple, he didnt exactly listen to them.

The first time you were asked to babysit, lydia wasnt too thrilled at the idea of her needing a babysitter, but beetlejuice on the other hand practically pushed charles and deila out the door the moment you came over, for some odd reason the ghoul listened to you, most of the time, and ever since your first successful night of keeping the house in one piece, you've been pegged for the job.

Which brings us today, you weren't as much as a babysitter, more of making sure beetlejuice doesnt destroy the house or kill anyone, the demon has cooled down nowadays compared to the stories you herd when he first met lydia and the gang, but right now his was your sweet cuddle bug. You and beej have recently become an item, after a clumsy mutual confession, the two of you have even become intimate, thos whole dating thing wasnt a secret.

The deetzlands were sure to jump in with questions when beetlejuice announced how you "were no longer on the market" and how he "won the lottery with you", it was embarrassing.

But those thoughts were behind you, even though your job was to keep shit together, it didnt mean you were a wet blanket, you laughed as much as anyone else watching beetlejuice and his clones mess with the pizza guy, lydia insisted on ordering out for the sole reason to mess with someone.

As the evening goes on the 3 of you eventually settle down, lydia eventually calls it quits and heads up to her room for the night, which left the two of you.

"So~" been would purr "how's bout the babysitter takes a seat on my baby maker?♡"  the ghoul leans into you, you only snort out a laugh and give him a gentle shove

"Later"

"I'll hold ya to it babes♡" he growls eyeing you up and down.

Ever since the night the two of you had your first time together beetlejuice has been extra handsy, you didnt mind exactly, just you felt more comfortable doing it at home.

The two of you settle on the couch, beetlejuice laying atop of you, using your chest as a pillow, his arms wrapped around your back, as you ever so gently run your fingers through his messy pink hair. You put on a crappy horror flick on in hopes it would keep you awake, it did not, as time ticked by you found it harder and hard to keep your eyes open,but yet you did.

During your little movie marathon, Charle's and Delia return home, beej refusing to get off you, made the chat of how beej and lydia were in their absence incredibly awkward.

The two eventually end the conversation saying how they should head to bed, and how they'll se you in the morning.

With everyone heading to bed, you finally call it quits yourself.

"I think I'm gonna turn in" you yawn, signaling beetlejuice to get off so you can move, the ghoul grunts in disappointment.

You get up from the couch and stretch, before turning off the tv and heading up the stairs

"Where ya going babes?"

"Guest room?" You answered a tad confused, you always slept there when you were over, hell beetlejuice would join you and share the bed everytime.

"Wouldnt you prefer a change in scenery?" The ghoul pulls you into a side hug "hows bout we sleep in my room?"

"Your room?" It would make sense for beetlejuice to have a room here, but you've never seen it

"Please dont make me beg babes, cuz I'll do it" in a flash he was on his knees, arms wrapped around you legs, face pressed against your thighs "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"

You give beej a nervous soft laugh and pat his head "okay"

And as fast as he went down he was up, smoothing out his coat and dusting himself off, in a more comical manner then practical.

"I still got it, dead or alive, I can charm anyone into coming to bed with me" he flashes you a toothy smile as he extends his arm for you to take.

The two of you head to the basement

"After you~" the ghoul gestures to the door, hints of pink emerging in his hair, you give beej a soft giggle, and take the lead downstairs.

Beetlejuice watches you walk down the stairs into his make shift room, his gaze focusing on your butt, as you disappear into the basement, beetlejuice removes his tie and hangs it on the door knob facing out before joining you down stairs.

You honestly didnt know what to expect when it came to Beetlejuice's room, but this had the right vibe, an striped chair couch hybrid that could be mistaken for modern 'art' in the corner of the room,  a few boxes here and there, probably storage. To be honest the room didnt exactly have good lighting, the only source of light being a single lightbulb that hung in the center of the basement, you werent exactly surprised. In the middle of the room layed an old mattress with a few pillows and quilts haphazardly tossed on top, to be honest you thought beej would sleep in a coffin. You glance around the room making notes of every little thing, being quite curious over how beej lives when hes not with you.

"Welcome to my little love nest babes~"

You turn your focus to the direction of your sweet demon's voice, there he laid on the make shift bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers similar to his suit, he was practically glowing pink, even the hair on his chest glowed with excitement.

"Its very you"

Beetlejuice snaps his fingers and the lights go out, only for a moment, as that sad little lightbulb was replaced with a warm glow around the bed, christmas lights, beetlejuice had strung up old Christmas lights for mood lighting.

"So how bout you bring that cute butt over here babes" beetlejuice purrs motioning you to join him on the bed.

"In a second Bee I forgot my pajamas up-"

Before you could even finish that sentence, the ghoul had once again snapped his fingers and within seconds your clothes were replaced with an over sized shirt and a pair of boxers, it always felt weird when beetlejuice magically changed your clothes, but you were tired and in this moment greatful.

"Come to daddy" he reaches out with grabby hands pulling you onto the mattress, more accurately pulling you into him.

You lay ontop of the ghoul for a moment, the two of you sharing a laugh before you get off of the demon and settle in under the covers next to him.

"Good night Lawrence" you sigh giving the demon a light kiss. Beetlejuice pushes back into you, deepening the kiss, bringing his hand to the back of your head to lightly hold you in place as he pushed his tongue in your mouth, you muffle out a noise of surprise. You eventually melt into him placing you hands light against his chest, for a few moments you allow beetlejuice to poke around your mouth, you pushed against his chest to signal you needed to breath, pulling away, a small string of saliva connected the two of you.

"Bee-" you pant

The ghoul leans back into you, his hand traveling up you shirt

"How bout we make the sheets sing tonight sugar?" He purrs eyeing you up and down.

You give beej a light shove "not tonight..." you were a tad hesitant in you awsner

Beetlejuice decides to push his luck, hand cupping your breast "so warm, would be nice to get warmer tonight~"

"Tomorrow, Lawrence" you swat his hand away "I just don't feel comfortable doing that when theres a chance someone I know will hear" you grumble

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "that's all? Come on babes, no one is gonna hear us, the maitlands are in the attic, chucky and Dee's bedroom is on the 2nd floor, same with Lyd's, plus the kid sleeps like a rock, trust me babes, no one is gonna hear us if we fool around" the ghoul pulls you against his soft chest "believe me, I'm a pretty loud guy when i strangle the snake, no one's ever herd me, so whaddya say? Can we knock hips tonight?"

You pause for a moment to think, it has been awhile since the two of you did anything intimate, and beej assures you no one will hear.

"Okay" you mumble as you give his nipple a light pinch

The ghost suppresses a moan before taking a deep breath "I knew youd be into it babes!"

"Right, so just keep it quiet, just in case-"

You couldnt even get through that sentence as beetlejuice pushes you back into the mattress, quickly crawling on top of you and going in for more kisses, his cold hands eagerly roaming around your body.

"Lawrence" you pant between kisses

"Mmmm" he hum moving from your lips to kiss your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, stopping at the neck of your shirt.

Beetlejuice glances up at you as if asking for permission, you only nod, and with the snap of his fingers the garment was gone, exposing your chest.

Beetlejuice took no time returning the pinch you gave him earlier before diving in and enclosing your breast in his mouth, his tongue swirled over your nipple, ever so often he grazed over it with his teeth knowing full well the sensation made your back arch. Your other breast was tended by his hand, the other nipple pinched and lightly tugged on.

"Lawrence please" you whine raising your hips in Hope's his attention will move south.

The ghoul removes his face from your chest "Oh y/n, you were on the fence about doing this all night, but now you're begging to get railed?" He chuckled

You gently sit up and pull the demon's face close to yours giving it a light kiss

"I love you Lawrence" you sigh

Beetlejuice could just melt, you've gotten so good at turning the tables on him and he LOVED it

Beetlejuice gently slides a hand into your bottoms, you flinch at the cold touch, the ghoul cups your vagina and you whine

"Already wet? Just for alittle touching?" He purrs "such a horny breather~"

You look away embarrassed and mumble "you've been hard since we started kissing"

He pauses for a moment then laughs

"You felt that huh, can you blame me? You're so sexy~" he growls before pushing you back down, the ghoul was already shimmying you pants off, and in one quick motion he wips them off and tosses them aside, the only thing left was your panties, a cute black and white striped pair you bought specifically to tease beej with earlier in your relationship, now? Just a coincidence, though you could sense the ghoul appreciate seeing them.

"Ya know sugar, when we get home I want to see ya wearing the matching bra with these" he snaps the elastic hem of the garment against your waist, before slowly sliding them down your legs, taking pleasure in watching you squirm trying to speed up the process.

The panties were finally off, beetlejuice brings the crotch of the garment to his face, taking in a deep inhale of your scent before pulling his head back and letting out a soft moan.

"BEETLEJUICE!" you shout

"Come on babes, you smell so good♡" he kisses you cheek as he tosses the panties aside, beetlejuice places a finger to your lips "I thought you said we needed to be quiet just in case~"

You push his hand away and quietly grumble "pervert"

"You love it" he kisses you again

You take this opportunity to grab a fist full of his hair and deepen the kiss, pulling the ghoul onto you

"God you're so sexy when you're eager" he growls between kisses.

When beetlejuice begrudging pulls away from your lips, he props himself up above you, positioning his throbbing cock against your pussy

"Ready?" He whispers

"You forgot the lube again bee" you sigh, yes you were soaked, but alittle extra slickness goes a long way.

"Right, right, right" he babbles sitting back up, and with a snap of his fingers, a small clear squeeze bottle appears in his hand. Beetlejuice squirts out a generous amount in his palms and quickly drops it between your legs, you jump at the cold wet sensation of his slimy hand poking around your vigina.

"Cold? Here I thought youd be used to it by now" he snorts, squeezing out another dollop of lube into his palm for his own genitals.

"Alright let's try this again, ya ready sugar?" He purrs, once again lining the head of his eager cock against your opening.

"Yes"

Beetlejuice leans in for a light peck on your lips "alright y/n"

slowly, the tip began to slowly sink into you, the ghoul groaned through his teeth, his eyes clamped shut "so fucking warm" he moaned,

As his cock slowly eased into you, you could swear you herd beej mentally during over how slow he was moving for your sake, you felt the base of his hips bump against yours. Your breath left you in a rush as he settled over you. Holy fuck, you felt so full, it's been awhile since the two of you were intimate, and beej WAS thicker then your toys, something he was quite vocal about.

"Can I move?" Beej snarls, for a demon he was very courteous in the bedroom, waiting for you to adjust to him, despite his crude exterior he was really loving.

"Please" you whine, gently wiggling your hips.

Beetlejuice pulled back. Their cock slipped out again, but before you could ask what they were doing, he rubbed the throbbing length against your entrance, lined back up, and pushed in much harder than when he started. Your mind went black at the sudden movement all that left your mouth was a whiny moan.

The ghoul kept an iron grip on your hips,thrusting their hips rhythmically,

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, you like that? Feels good doesnt it?" Beej babbled with every thrust

With a moan, you reached and pulled your demon down into a hot, deep kiss. His words cut off with a muffled noise against your lips. As the ghoul let out a gasp, you slipped your tongue into his mouth, his tongue was much longer the yours, and cold, his teeth were sharper and weirdly shaped, but oh how you adored exploring his unusual mouth

"Mmmmhh♡" and oh how beetlejuice loved it when you took charge, even in little ways.

Pulling away from the ghoul, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you, beej's sappy grin changed into a smug toothy smile as he changed the position of his hips and finally hit your sweet spot, you threw your head back, gasping aloud, Your toes curled, your back arched, as the demon mercilessly hit your most sensitive part. fingers gripping Beetlejuice's shoulders so hard that you could feel your nails scratching his back.

Hes gonna be bragging about that for awhile

"I love you Lawrence" you babble as you clung to the ghoul

"I love you too y/n, FUCK-" his hands move from your hips to your back, pulling you close as his hips kept the rhythm of his thrusting going. Each thrust of his hips had your back arching, your heart fluttering, 

"Oh God" you cry

Beetlejuice tilted your hips, the tip of their cock brushing against a bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars

"Oh fuck, Lawrence please, I'm so close" you cry, shivering, desperate for your release, normally beej would tease and edge you till your crying and begging for him, but not tonight.

The ghoul pulls you into another kiss before dipping a hand between the two of you, his finger gently rubbing against your clit and his cock thrusted in and out of you was just the extra stimulation you needed.

"Lawrence!" You whine as you cling to the ghoul, legs light twitching, shivering at the waves of pleasure washed over you

Suddenly, beej pushed you away, before you could question him, he lifted his waist, hiked your legs up over his shoulders, and began a vicious pace that stole the breath from your lungs.

"BEE!" You shout

Beetlejuice helped you ride out your waves of ecstasy with the same intensity that he was now fucking you. 

Everything came crashing together. Beej's hips jerked and stuttered, he summoned a third hand to cover his mouth as a very demon like groan escapes him, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he clumsily thrusted inside of you losing momentum, you could feel him finishing up inside, something you still havent gotten used too.

As beetlejuice gives a few last clumsy thrusts, before slowly pulling out, you whine at the sudden loss of fullness, and you could swear you felt the mess he left behind spilling out.

Beetlejuice leans in and lightly pecks your lips

"Was it good for you too?" He purrs as if he didnt know the awnser.

"Of course Bee" you sigh flopping back down into the mattress, completely exhausted,

The ghoul took no time snuggling up to you, the two of your bodies intertwined, though this cozy moment was short lived.

You sit back up and groan,

"I should clean this up" you mumble gesturing to you lower half, going back upstairs after being railed sounded like a huge pain, but you werent going to sleep with this mess between your legs.

"Allow me~"  beek purrs, and with a snap of his fingers the goopy mess between your legs was gone "it's only fair I clean ya up, ya know, after I spilt my baby batter inside your Penis fly trap♡"

"You're awful" you chuckle giving the ghoul a light shove

"You love it♡" he coos pulling you close, the electricity has faded from the ghoul's hair, leaving behind a soft pink that graced him all over.

"I do" you whisper followed by a yawn "we should go to bed..."

The two of you get resituated under the covers, and beetlejuice pulls you close, you rest your head on his chest.

"Goodnight Lawrence, I love you" you whisper giving the ghoul his goodnight kiss

"Night y/n, I love ya too"

...

Bonus

The next morning you make your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, beej waves you off saying he'll be up there in a moment

...

"Morning" you mumble to Delia and charles as you full your cup

"So, you and Beetlejuice had fun last night?" Delia asks

"...yeah?" Confused about the question, her and charles chatted with you before bed last night

Charles clears his throat and nudges Delia

"You and BJ seemed to have been enjoying yourselves, LATE last night" she trys again

"Oh God-" you feel your stomach sink

Before you could say anything else, been enters the kitchen and pulls you into a side hug "morning guys' told ya me and y/n were getting busy♡" beetlejuice cackles

"What?!" You blurt

"Come on babes, I'm not lying-"

"You said no one would hear us!"

"Oh, did I forget about that little vent that leads from the basement to the master bedroom?" He shrugs acting innocent

"BEETLEJUICE! I am so sorry about everything, I mean, I cant even begin to-" you babble of the verge of tears, you were so embarrassed you wanted to die

"Oh dont beat yourself up over it dear, it was awkward, but it does sound like you and BJ have a very healthy sex life-" Delia trys to console you.

"Can we just drop this, and pretend it didnt happen?" you sigh

"You're not ashamed of me are you honey?" Beej nuzzles into you, knowing full well what he did.

"Good morning" the maitlands eneter the kitchen "what's going on?" Barbara asks

"Me and y/n had sex, Chucky and Dee herd it, theres my proof, I'm not a liar" beetlejuice was quick to blurt out

"BEETLEJUICE!" You yell

"What's with all the yelling?" Lydia groans making her way to join the group

"Dont you dare-" you start

"Me and y/n-" beetlejuice trys to get out before Barbara slaps a hand over his mouth.

"Me and y/n had our special naked adult time last night" he threw his voice

"Gross" was all the kid said as she started her breakfast routine

Beetlejuice might have been pleased as punch his little proof plan worked, but you? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.

[adoringmha]

CLEAN UP

pairing: bakugo x fem!reader

summary: bakugo comes home from work to find you doing the dishes and gets needy <3

warnings: oral (fem receiving) but only for a bit while doing the dishes, lowkey innocent reader but not really (that’s just the vibe i got when writing it), waste of water skshsj, a hint of degradation, also c*m-licking...

word count: 1.4k

notes: this came to me while i was doing the dishes tbh that’s it + i feel like this isn’t that good but i wanted to post something for his birthday <3

you were washing the dishes, almost half-way done when you heard the door open and close. you smiled to yourself, already feeling happier that bakugo was home. normally, you’d meet him at the door to greet him, but you were a little busy today cleaning up. 

bakugo walked in and frowned when you weren’t immediately there to jump in his arms and kiss him hello. he grumbled to himself and took his shoes off, setting his bag down in the entryway. he was wearing his sweats and a tank top, already changed out of his hero costume and wanted nothing more than to literally sink into you. 

he walked through your home, a usual scowl on his face, but it was quick to turn into a smirk when he noticed you in the kitchen, your comfy short shorts on and one of your lace bralettes, but most importantly a little pink apron tied at your waist. 

he licked his lips, “there you are teddy bear.” his voice was rough and immediately shot down to your core. 

you turned your head with a smile before turning back to the plate you were washing. “hi bub, how was your day?”

he took a moment to answer, too distracted, his eyes scanning up and down your body, resting generously on the curves of your ass he could see under your shorts. “same old shit,” he mumbled half-heartedly. after a few seconds he spoke again, “you know it’s not very nice of you to tease me like this, princess.”

your brows furrowed in confusion, “tease you? but i’m not doing anything.” 

“yes you are. standing here, looking like that. your perfect ass out. you’re always fuckin’ teasing me.”

you laughed to yourself and rolled your eyes. “so basically i exist and you’re personally offended––”

you could hear the smirk in his voice that was suddenly way closer than before. “i’m personally offended that you aren’t sitting on my face right now.” before you could respond, he slapped your ass hard with the help of his quirk to add an extra sting.

“katsu–!”

he pulled you into his chest by your waist, his fingertips digging into you nicely. “what, baby? it’s true.” he buried his face in your shoulder and you could feel him taking you in, the scent of your body soap, the softness of your skin. he kissed along your shoulder, and up your neck slowly, before trailing his lips up your jaw and licking along the shell of your ear. he bit your earlobe teasingly and you shuddered in his hands, making him chuckle. “what do you say, hm?” he kissed your cheek. “you gonna let me eat that pretty pussy? it is mine after all...”

you swallowed thickly and tried to stand straight, accidentally rubbing your ass into his hardening bulge, making him groan and press his fingers into you harder. “but the...the dishes––” 

he rolled his hips into you and groaned, barely hearing your words. he breathed out against your ear, “i’ll tell you what,” he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and your panties, silently waiting for you to object. when you didn’t, he pulled them off and threw them aside. 

“you keep doing the dishes, and i get my late night snack, okay?” 

you tried to turn around but he wouldn’t let you, his hands holding you still as he got down on his knees. “wait you’re gonna–”

“spread your legs and let me get my fill, teddy bear.” he squeezed both your ass cheeks in his hands, clearly enjoying himself and you could just about picture the smile on his face. “you gonna be my good girl, hm?” 

you nodded, spreading your legs and bending over the sink slightly, biting your lip in anticipation, already feeling the heat spreading through your body. before you could even respond, he spread your cheeks and buried his face in you, his tongue lapping through your folds to taste you eagerly. “mm yes katsu.” 

the plate that was in your hand almost slipped as your eyes ached to flutter shut immediately, bakugo’s touch knocking the sense out of you. the water was running over your hands carelessly and you swore you forgot what you were doing and where you were for a moment until bakugo spoke up again, the brief moment he separated from your lower half giving you time to think clearly.

“make sure you clean em well baby, i want them to be spotless.” he spit on your pussy and you moaned loudly, making him smirk against your lips. “don’t worry, i’ll clean you up real good when i’m done too.”

you nodded and whined pathetically, bucking back into him to get him to continue. he grinned almost sadistically, and dove back in at full force and speed, groaning and moaning into your heat like an animal.

his tongue was exploring all around your cunt expertly, licking, prodding and teasing all the spots to make you tick. his eyes were closed and he was fully immersed into you, hellbent on making you cum on his tongue—he wanted to taste you, and to make you fall apart so fucking bad.

you were rocking back into him, letting him tongue-fuck you, wasting the water running from the faucet, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. the water was turning cold and it was splashing off the plate, onto your chest and arms but the heat of the pleasure from bakugo’s tongue running through your veins overpowered that.

it wasn’t until he opened his eyes and realized that your arms weren’t moving that he pulled away, pulling a long high-pitched whine from your throat.

he smacked your ass hard and your body immediately jerked back into his touch, yearning for more, whatever he’d give you. “wash those fucking dishes, princess. what’d i tell you.”

“but baby—“ he growled your name in warning and you sighed and tried to catch your breath, letting out a small “okay” before you resumed washing the dishes, your hands shaky and uncoordinated, your mind still glitching from his mind-numbing touch.

he grunted, pleased, before licking a torturously long swipe from your clit to your opening that had you gasping for air. “taste like fucking candy, baby bear. fuck-“ you felt him take one hand away from you and heard a quiet spitting noise and you moaned out loud when you realize he’d taken his cock out and started stroking himself to your taste. but you quickly tried to rush through the rest of the dishes, fearing he’d stop. 

he chuckled, “yeah, you like that baby? the sound of me stroking my cock while i’m tongue-fucking you? such a slutty little thing––” he smacked your ass again and started stroking himself faster, just the taste of you and the sound of your moans enough to bring him close to the edge.  

though he could feel himself about to burst, he kept at it, shaking his head vigorously, moaning obscenely into your heat and it took a lot of effort, but you quickly finished washing the few things that were left and shut the water off immediately, bringing a wet hand back to grip his hair, making him groan into you. “fuck yes.” 

he swirled his tongue around your clit, one hand grabbing your ass as you grinded back into him, the other fisting his cock faster and faster. he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves and you let out a guttural moan, your legs trembling as you struggled to keep yourself upright, your hand tugging at his strands harshly, triggering his release. 

he stayed true to his word and lapped up all over your cunt, cleaning you up as he stroked himself slowly, milking himself dry all over his hand, panting against your wet folds. he left a few sloppy kisses on your pussy, trailing them to your ass before he bit it playfully, smiling against it when you yelped.

he stood up and turned you around with one hand, not wasting any time in pulling you flush against him and pressing his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself. “you drive me fucking crazy princess,” he mumbled against your lips, pulling away to smirk at you when you giggled. 

you grabbed his hand and without breaking eye contact, licked his fingers clean, bringing them in your mouth to suck on them sensually, rubbing your thighs together when you noticed him getting worked up again. he pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth, his own hanging open as he watched you. “that’s my good fucking girl. you clean up so well.”